Blast Wave

Blast Wave

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Stephanie Burke

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Blast Wave By Stephanie Burke Triskelion Publishing www.triskelionpublishing.com

Published by Triskelion Publishing www.triskelionpublishing.com 15508 W. Bell Rd. #101, PMB #502, Surprise, AZ 85374 U.S.A. First e-published by Triskelion Publishing First e-publishing December 2004 ISBN 1-932866-57-4 Copyright © Triskelion Publishing 2004 All rights reserved. Cover art by Triskelion Publishing PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Chapter 1

What a beautiful combination of beauty, stealth and strength.

Secretly he called her the

chameleon, his little chameleon. Others called her Lady Death, but to him she was always his little chameleon. How she accomplished the things she did was simply amazing. Her performance was always top notch, her leadership skills impeccable, and the camaraderie she shared with her men unheard of in a mercenary troop. And he would probably be responsible for her death. “Electra.” As usual, his voice was empty and devoid of emotion. “Mission complete.” “And I assume there were no witnesses?” The statement was more of a question. Electra stared at the lieutenant from beneath a fringe of dark, stick-straight hair. She expected no less than perfection from anyone in her gang, herself included. “Only acceptable losses.” “Midas,” her voice was as crisp and cold as the look that leapt into her eyes. “There is no such thing as an acceptable loss. All human life is worth something, even yours.” Midas said nothing, calmly staring at his leader and accepting the tongue-lashing she delivered in a smooth tone, dripping with anger. “So what do you have to say for yourself? This was supposed to be a simple assignment. And you know that I never ask my people to do anything that I would not and could not successfully do.” Her words were low and clipped. “And I could have done this in my sleep. Make your excuses.” “Mechanical losses.” His reply remained dead and emotionless. That was all he said. Running her fingers through her hair, Electra sighed deeply as the tension drained from her body, still leaving her at alert, but toning down the battle-ready edge. Standby, he thought as he watched her eyes open, their amber depths calming a little. She had dropped to standby. “Report.” Just like that. No apologies for her assumption, no regrets, no emotions. Back to the business at hand. The man known only as Midas began to speak.

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“Loss of one poorly placed surveillance camera, it was found during an unscheduled sweep and was deactivated. However, the built in fail-safe activated and the camera self-detonated. Loss of one listening device. Target personnel acquired new transport after an unplanned traffic incident. Transport was destroyed when civilian vehicle engaged due to faulty wiring, not of our design. Losses dropped the efficiency of the mission by approximately three percent. Information was acquired through the usual means; fail-safes and extra precautions were not necessary. Mission completed with ninety-seven percent efficiency, well acceptable within mission parameters, yet unacceptable by my standards.

Any

disciplinary actions taken are understood and applicable, Commander.” Just like that, he placed his own head on the chopping block. “What punishment do you think is acceptable, Ice Man?” “Any you feel necessary.” “You did your job. If a few of your toys didn’t behave, that is your problem. Don’t look to me to castigate your troubled soul.” “Commander.” Nodding, he turned sharply with military precision and quit the room. “Oh, and Midas?” He paused at his commander’s voice, not turning around, but curious as to what the woman would say. “Ninety-seven percent is better than ninety-six. If you fuck up, I will let you know. Mission was competed in record time, no casualties, and you drew no suspicion to our cause. Don’t flagellate yourself too hard.” He continued out of the room, wishing that she had yelled at him. She was beautiful. God, was she beautiful. And she was one tough military commander, one of the best that he had ever served under. But he just needed her to yell, to scream, to punish him for something. That would make the guilt so much easier to take. Especially for what he was about to do to her. But he never looked back. He walked out of the room, knowing that the information he gave her would cause her to leave her protective nest and give him the time he needed to activate a plan that had been set into motion for years. It was almost time. And he couldn’t hate himself more.

***

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Something was up with him. Electra knew her men and there was definitely something going on with the tall, dark man she had come to know as Midas. Why Midas? Simple. Everything he touched turned to gold, be it communications, intelligence gathering, or…the…dark stuff. Sighing, she threw down what she was fiddling with on the table and ran her hands through her cropped, dark hair. This was so frustrating! He was so frustrating! Midas had always been a mystery to her, but lately, he had become even more mysterious, if such a thing were possible. His work was as efficient and perfect as ever. His attitude, or lack thereof, was the same. But there was something a small bit…off. “What to do about you, Midas,” she sighed as her hands dropped down to rub at tired eyes. She eyed the information that he had delivered to her critically. If what he brought her was accurate, if any of it even hinted at who and what she suspected, then they were all in a lot of trouble. Then there was something called Gold. She glared at the disk on her desk, tapping it lightly with a short, unpolished nail, and wondered if the information was true. How could the President even think about allowing this to happen? What the hell were GSS and ORION up to? If all of this were true, they had to stop them, and by any means necessary. But she had to be sure! The man, after all, was their staunchest supporter, and he knew what…who was out there. The…element that existed out there was never far from her mind. How could it be when she saw the thing they created every time she stared into a mirror. She lowered her eyes as the memories began to flow through her mind. In her agitated state, she let her mental shield slip and now all those memories floated to the surface like water rushing from its imprisonment behind a dam, unstoppable, and tearing down everything in its path. There were seven of them; seven kept in separate little rooms for what seemed like an eternity. Seven little lab rats to toy with, to experiment on, to break at their leisure. She was never sure what happened to the other six. In fact, she nearly forgot their existence as the pain and the need to exist overrode over everything that she was. How could she even pretend to forget the pain? It was so allconsuming, so encompassing, so much of what shaped her into what she was now. The needles flowed from some great darkness, their sharp points highlighted by the glinting, bright yellow light that surrounded her. Then the sharp, piercing jabs as one needle found a vein and let the liquid fire pour through her system. Blood! The taste of blood! She screamed and screamed, but no one came to stop them, no one came to aid her. She screamed and tried to claw at her face, to claw at her eyes, anything to create a

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distraction from the fire that invaded her body, anything to make the pain stop! Her heart thudded in her chest, beating so fast it seemed it would burst free from her body. She could hardly draw a breath to scream, especially when her lungs began to rebel. She felt her eyes swell, felt the awful agony that made her want to wrench them from their sockets. She almost succeeded once, so from then on she was strapped down. How she tugged and pulled at those bindings, how warm and wet the blood felt running from the deep lacerations, and yet it was not enough to take her mind away from the gripping pain. So then, she retreated into herself, trying anything to escape the agony that followed, and yet she still could not escape. She felt them, those damn aliens. No one understood what she said as a child when she tried to explain who had taken her, what they had done to her, but she felt them. She could still feel the nanos crawling through her veins, reminding her of the past, never letting her forget her future, if she had one. Because of the aliens, the outside element, she would forever feel the nanos, swarming through her brain, sliding through her body, waiting for a chance to rebel and tear at her if she let her guard down. They would always be with her, until she got the guts to end this so-called existence. But before that could happen, she had to protect the other six, and the nice, quiet, oh-so-ignorant masses that existed, devoid of any knowledge that there were things greater than themselves out there, wanting to take over. Maybe then, she could get a rest from the crawling mechanisms who dominating her life, the things that she alternately cursed and reveled. Then, in the sweet arms of death, and only then, would she be free. No one would miss her. No one, least of all one arrogant, cold, Adonis of a man named Midas, who made everything he touched turn to gold. Those thoughts pulled her from her dark past and her uncertain future. What to do about Midas? It would have to wait until she verified the information on the disk and dealt with the problem. Was the Senator indeed their target? Or was it someone else, someone more important? Unbelievable! That self-serving man would sooner cut off his own arm than get embroiled in some plot to help someone else. There was no way anything good ever came out of his diseased and twisted mind. It was so stupid, so unbelievable, that it had to be verified at the source. Until then, Midas, or her burgeoning affection for the gruff, emotionless man, would have to wait. But after it was all over, oh yes, maybe it would be time that she and the Golden Man had a conversation on a more…personal level.

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Holding in a small smile with the force of sheer will, Electra lifted the disk and slipped it into the handheld microcomputer complete with card reader that rested on her desk. “Verify,” she whispered as she pressed her thumb onto the monitor and waited. She felt the electric shock as her skin thinned and the energy drain as she merged with the machine. Within minutes, she blinked and rose to her feet. It all looked real and… She would personally verify this information and she alone would do what had to be done. It was nothing more than she would ask of any of her men, to be certain. If she was going to have her somewhat idealistic rug snatched from under her feet, she alone would be the instrument of its destruction. Turning, she strode over to her sea trunk, lifted the lid, and viewed the contents inside. Pushing aside several articles of clothing and shoes, she pulled out the perfect outfit – normal everyday civilian clothes. She had a job to do and undercover was the best way to go. Now, what did courtesans in this day and age wear?

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Chapter 2

Blending in to the office personnel would have been easier, but who pays any attention to a whore? Smiling, she tossed her long, red hair and grinned at the security guard, who just smiled back. Being a slut was easy. No one paid attention to a slut. It was disgustingly easy to whisper the appropriate name, breathe that you have an appointment, drop your large bag of goodies with the box of condoms hanging out onto the x-ray machine then giggle when you stuff them quickly back in after you pass through the checkpoint, and get waved through with a knowing grin. People saw what they expected to see. And this time, there was no exception. “I’m here to see the big guy.” She showed some leg, winked her big green eyes, and was waved through. “Damn, he gets all the good ones,” the hapless guard breathed as he slapped her on the butt. “Oh!” she shrieked, feigning surprise, as she placed one hand over full cherry red lips. She giggled and then turned away, an extra twist to her hips and a bounce to her walk. “You stupid, brainless twit,” she mouthed, giggling and waving over her shoulder at the guard and his grinning partners. They smiled and waved back as she disappeared around the corner. So much for the highly trained, elite, crack security force! It was so funny it was almost sad. “Okay,” she murmured to herself as she closed her eyes hard for a second and ignored the blinding pain that sent shivers through her spine. “Building schematics.” She blinked twice, knocking away the tears that formed in the corners of her eyes. Then, instantly superimposed over her normal view of the hallway, a bright red computer layout showed her where she was and where she needed to go. Still practicing her jaunty bounce, she slid past several men and women, ignoring the disgusted or downright hungry looks on their faces, and ducked into the nearest lavatory. Once there, she smiled sweetly at two gossiping computer programmers and walked into the nearest stall. “So far, so good,” she whispered to herself as she waited for the pair of gossiping women to leave. “Image bank,” she whispered, and instantly a fast blur of images whirled past the right side of her field of vision and replaced the map of the facility, leaving her left field of vision clear.

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“Better stick to the basics,” she whispered again, smiling, and the whirl slowed down considerably, though there was still a blur of faces. She felt almost a questioning pulse flow thorough her body and sighed. She needed more details. “More data? Um, female, five-five to five-seven, dark hair, dark eyes.” The blur slowed even more and the wide haze of faces divided into nine small boxes in three rows of three. “Who is here today and who is not?” Knowing that she needed additional Intel, she looked around until she found what she sought. A simple electrical socket placed a few feet above her head. Grinning, she raised her hand and whispered, “Interface.” She ignored the flash of pain as the skin on her right palm parted, showing no reaction when a small silver wire extended and flowed toward the socket. There was a small jolt through her nervous system and an odd tingle in her brain as the silver filament entered the socket. She closed her eyes and searched for a way into a terminal. Following the electrical currents, the filament soon shot part of her conscience into a nearby terminal where she ‘ghosted’ out of notice while she accessed personnel files. Three of the ‘target personnel’ were not working today, narrowing her search even more. Unconsciously, she divided her consciences and her attention, then merged her search. “Access to computer terminals.” The information she needed was write protected, encrypted, and required her to be at a mainframe. The pictures in her view blurred until there were only two that met her specifications. “Eliza Crampton and Anna Moore. And the winner is…Anna.” She chuckled and quickly manipulated the files to show Anna Moore, age 27, job, Data Entry, with high security clearance, present and active. She quickly downloaded her assigned codes and voice imprints, as well as cornea records, and stored them along with any other pertinent information she felt she would need. There would be no second chance to access this information and she needed to make this look good. That done, she recalled the filament and lowered her hand in preparation for the change. “Let’s do Anna,” she whispered, adjusting her voice to the one on record. “Audio scan.” Instantly the picture of the dark-haired, dark-skinned Anna, in all her glory, slid to the top right of her field of vision and tone and depth bars took center stage. “Testing, one, two, three,” she murmured, and watched as the top lines spiked and dipped until her tones adjusted to perfectly match the control lines at the bottom. The lines merged and changed colors to a bright red to show the precision of the attempt. The lines quickly passed and the next time she murmured, her voice had changed in depth, tone, and inflection.

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“Now for the cosmetics.” The photo of Anna slid to the front again with a detailed analysis of her hair color and skin tones. “Yeah, yeah, get it done,” she murmured, ignoring the information and jumping right to the change. There was no way her information could be faulty, that she knew, so she proceeded as quickly as she could to the next phase. “Match epidermis and follicles manipulation.” This time, she had to brace her hands on the walls of the small stall as a white-hot burn waved over her body. For seconds, she was in sheer agony as her skin seemed to flame, her muscles tried to rend themselves into small pieces, and even the roots of her hair seemed to burn with an internal fire. For an almost infinite second, she wished for death. Then as quickly as the pain spiked, it pulled itself out, flowing away, almost as if it had never existed. It was a disturbing feeling, to go from extreme agony to nothing and it never failed to leave her breathless and off-balance. Shaking off her momentary lethargy, Electra quickly reached into her bag of tricks and pushed the sexual paraphernalia aside. Underneath were the business casual pants and blouse she would wear. They were baggy, suitable for any size frame, as she had no idea who she would be morphing into. Under that was the plain lab jacket that held several pens stuffed into its pockets. There was also a blank ID pass that only needed to be imprinted with the appropriate information and her photo. Easily enough done, she decided, as she donned the clothing and settled them about her slightly larger, broader-hipped frame. “Emboss,” she whispered, getting used to the new voice as she held up her palm yet again. There was a quick flash of tearing pain as a thin optical eye emerged from her wrist and began to burn the information needed onto the plastic card. Anna’s security clearance, her description, her password, her photo; it was all quickly rendered from the memory she had stored in her cerebral cortex, to be later dumped as useless cookies. But for now, she utilized the information to her best advantage. Picking up the large bag, she dumped her cherry-red whore clothing inside and exited the stall, looking around for a suitable place to stash it. There were small cabinets under the sink units, and no one in their right minds would be digging around in there. She tugged, found the cabinet locked, and with a quick twist of her wrist and the liberal use of a small lockpick hidden inside her pocket protector, she opened the cabinet and stashed the clothing inside. They were disposable anyway and if she had to leave them, it would be no big loss either way. There were no identifiable marks on them and no fingerprints. Her little blood bugs saw to that. She turned to the mirror and stared for a moment, taking time to recognize the new her. “Hello Anna,” she whispered as she adjusted the dark brown hair around her shoulders. As usual, it was picture perfect and totally correct. The only thing she kept for herself, the only risk she took, was

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to keep the strange, jeweled necklace on a leather thong, hidden beneath the layers of her clothing. That she would not part with. It was her…connection to the others. Taking extra pains to ensure that it was not exposed, she looked herself over to see if everything was in place, then gave herself a short nod. Then she was off, briskly walking down the halls as she followed the glowing directions superimposed over the right side of her field of vision. She had work to do, and she hoped to get it done quickly and get back to the safety of her people and her…Midas. Maybe it was time for them to have that little talk.

***

“Archer, what are you saying?” Odin Rothwell, better known as Midas to the Merc Company he ran with, almost raised his voice to a human level, which was enough to tell of his shock and dismay. “It is infected.” Archer’s stern voice left no room for compromise or reason. He had effectively sent his Electra into a trap. “Where?” “Pennsylvania,” Midas’ voice seemed to grow even colder, if such a thing were possible. “I am inserting. Will return with the package, undamaged.” He cut off transmission before Archer could say anything else. He knew where she was and what she was doing. Suddenly the busy world of dead-ends and cold leads he’d given her took on a new and terrifying light. She would not go in prepared for defense. This was supposed to be a simple data gathering and face finding mission. She would be weaponless, all but for her amazing ability to blend in wherever she went. And that would not stop them from finding her, as they were going to be on the lookout for anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Damn ORION. And damn the GSS. They had their slithering tentacles in everything. He wanted to stop them, stop the element that existed above, and protect the woman he had come to admire, but again Medusa’s Hand seemed to slither up through the slime beds of hell to wreak havoc in his life. And if ORION and the GSS succeeded, he would have dedicated his life and threatened the life of one of his compatriots, for nothing. That he could not allow. Strolling through the woods that surrounded the compound his group called their own, he typed in a code on his handheld. “Michael,” he spoke calmly into the small black device. “Hold the fort. I’m going shopping.”

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“Get something good, Das,” Michael replied. Midas knew that this man would follow all orders coming in or get the group underground at the first hint of trouble. Michael was a good man. “Always,” he replied and abruptly broke communications. Within seconds, he was in a dark blue, compact car, with more hidden under the hood than a NASA shuttle, blasting his way from the wilds of northern Virginia to the unknowns of Pennsylvania. He knew he had to get to Electra and he didn’t have much time to do it. Guilt roared through him, with the usual sense of betrayal he felt as she took on this mission. But he knew that regrets would have to wait. He packed down his emotions again, sealed them away behind a mental wall, and focused on the job at hand. He would have to tell her what he was; he would have to come clean. And if she hated him, so be it. But he could no longer live with this lie, with this regret, with this guilt. It was eating him alive, sapping his strength, and for a man in his position, that was a very dangerous thing indeed. Eyes on the road, he watched as the white lines seemed to blur while he raced toward I-95, pushing toward an uncertain future, hope a long-dead emotion rotting in his chest.

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Chapter 3

“Hey, Anna.” “Kandi.” She smiled as she passed the tall brunette who winked and blew her a kiss. Thankfully, she was being fed a constant stream of information from what she downloaded earlier, things like who was speaking to her and which offices Anna didn’t have clearance to enter, but it did nothing for the many people who either kissed at her, goosed her, or made some really strange and kinky sexual remarks. It seemed Anna got around. But there were still gaps of personal information that was lost, gaps that she would have to dance around because she had no other way of finding out what happened. Sometimes she could almost bless the individuals that had played God with her body, and other times, she wished she could curse them all out of existence. But for now, their alterations were a bonus she could live with. She navigated the halls with confidence, knowing that this company, Digitec PA, designed and encoded all the information sent to the suspect’s office and that this was where she could get uncorrupted data. Smiling at another coworker, she waltzed up to the door of the processing center, slid her ID through the scanner, and waited the three seconds for the catch on the door to release. Nodding to the others in the office, she walked over, took a seat at her terminal, and began to type in the codes she’d pulled from the computer. “Anna, baby.” A man to her right instantly flashed in her field of vision, identifying him as Richard. “Richard,” she answered with a smile. “Oh, you are just going to ‘Richard’ me after what we shared yesterday?” “Well,” she murmured, her mind racing. What happened yesterday? Plastering a smile on her face, she grinned at him and winked. Maybe it was sexual; everything else around here seemed to be when it had to do with Anna. “You conceited bitch!” he growled as he leaned so far into her face that she could tell he had a breakfast burrito and black coffee not too long ago. She blinked twice and altered her thinking. Looked like Anna didn’t lay everything in the building. Looks like she may have screwed someone over.

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“Thanks.” She let a small smile cross her lips and proceeded to ignore the hell out of the man, her fingers dancing over the keys. “I will get you back for what you did,” he growled, as she rapidly pulled up information on the screen and planted it in a file she created just for that purpose. “Whatever,” she snorted, “Dick.” Growing red in the face, the man rose to his full height and glared for all he was worth. “You bitch!” “You said that,” she said in a singsong voice. “And before you get into my face to say it again, I suggest you brush your teeth. Halitosis is treatable, Dick.” The man’s mouth dropped open and he gaped a few seconds before he stomped away. General laughter filled the room and the other information analysts watched the man leave in a huff before returning to their work. “There are too many people here,” she whispered to herself as she desperately tried to keep the annoyance and frustration out of the set of her shoulders. Thinking that some quick action would be needed, she pressed her finger to the USB port on the front of her CPU and whispered, “Interface.” Instantly there was a flash of pain as the skin of her finger parted from the inside and another stream of filament entered the computer. “Safety functions,” she murmured while putting on the pretense of reading what was on her screen. Almost instantly, the running stream of information about Anna’s coworkers moved to the upper right and the security functions flashed across her vision. “Environmental controls,” she whispered and then zeroed in on the sprinkler systems. With an evil grin, she began to manipulate the codes to release a timed burst of water in the hallways, in the men’s bathrooms, and in the security checkpoints. “Begin in five minutes,” she whispered and went back to placing the desired information into her special file. The plans for the meeting were not that hard to acquire once she made it past the firewalls and accessed the local target’s private computer. “Here he comes, here comes speed racer,” she sang softly to herself as she started downloading his personal data for the last week into the file. “I have personal schedules, travel itinerary, codes for his other computer because he is so anal he keeps a file on them, access codes for his office, bank accounts, and an interesting folder called Gold that is almost like the one that Midas brought to me, the one that said that this man is preparing to make a move on us poor freedom-fighters. Download.”

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Instantly, she felt the surge of electricity as the information traveled through the filament and shot directly toward her brain. She held in her shudder and forced her eyes to stay open as information slammed into her brain at an alarming rate. It almost felt as if her head would fry or implode before it was all downloaded, but in actuality it only took seconds, and the pain disappeared as the rush of success filled her completely. Now it was time to vacate the premises as quickly as possible. Silently, she recalled the filament and winced as it sank back into its home inside her body. Shaking that sting off, she rose to her feet and walked over to the exit. “Leaving so soon?” She turned to face none other than Richard again. “Yes, I thought I would let nature take its course in the bathroom Instead of on the tile flooring.” Dork, she thought, as she brushed past him and moved toward the exit. “I don’t think so.” He almost purred as a triumphant glint filled his eyes. Where was the rain shower, she thought, as she turned to face him again. “You gonna stop me, Dick?” She was tired of playing and her time was running out. “You and what army?” “That one.” He nearly chortled with glee as a security detail fell in line outside the doors. “What the hell did you do?” she growled, taking a step toward Richard, none of the meek acceptance he was probably used to on her face. “Gold!” He chuckled. “You pulled the forbidden file and downloaded it to your terminal. You are busted, bitch. I knew you couldn’t resist being nosey, and when Mr. Keton put a flag on that file, I knew you would be the one to try and open it. Damn hackers, always thinking that they are better than the rest of us.” “Shit.” Anna Moore was a hacker? She had stepped right into the middle of a pissing contest between this jerk of a programmer and a hacker? Double fuck! “Forbidden program?” “You don’t remember?” He chuckled as he almost rubbed his hands together in glee. “The one who has been taking information and probably selling it to the Commies or the Taliban!” Dick was enjoying this way too much. “I don’t think so,” she purred, as she watched the number of men outside the door stop at six and the apparent leader prepare to open the only friggin’ door.

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“You’re busted, Anna. I knew you were gonna go down. What you did yesterday makes this all the more ironic. Poetic justice, if you will.” “Shut up!” she growled, as the others began to notice that something was going on. Finally, the door opened and the man in charge belted out, “Anna Moore? Please come with me.” “Like hell.” With those muttered words, she launched herself at the leader of the troop of guards, teeth gritted in fierce anger as she landed a sharp blow to his chin with the heel of her palm. The palm strike drove him backwards, snapping his head back as a grunt of surprise escaped his throat. No one expected the mild-mannered, easy-going programmer to act thusly. Taking advantage of that shock, Electra dove through the collection of guards, arms flung out to force them backwards, and took off like a shot down the hall. Then just as planned, the water began to fall, distracting the guards who were rapidly regaining their composure and chasing after her. Information retrieved, she thought as she skidded around a corner, sliding on the wet floors, barely avoiding an extremely hard wall, and continuing on her flight. “Escape route!” she gasped, short legs pumping as she tried to avoid hitting the puzzled, angered, and confused programmers and scientists aimlessly wandering through the halls, looking for some kind of answer. A glowing yellow map took over the whole of her vision, a red arrow projecting to her the most applicable escape route and where the lesser routes were hidden. “Front door out of the question,” muttered to herself, then shot off toward her left. The water from the sprinkler system rained down heavy and distracting, just as she planned it, and she used it to begin to say good-bye to Anna Moore. Trying her best to ignore the pain flowing through her body, she ran on, feeling her muscles elongate, feeling the burn of her skin not cooled by water, as it began to alter, to change in pigment and tone. She felt her whole self shift with each step, felt as the change left her an anonymous automaton before her true form reestablished itself again. Shaking her head, she sighed almost with relief as her hair exploded from her head, bright red and distracting. Her skin took on the golden hues of her Asian decent, her eyes slanting, appearing a bright green. It felt so good to be her; there was no pain when taking this form. But she knew that this one would not last, that her natural coloring was too distinctive. So while she relished the momentary sense of self, she knew it had to go, sacrificed for her survival. As she rounded the next corner, the red hair shortened into a sleek black bob and her skin darkened a bit to a nondescript nut-brown, all the better to blend in with the civilians around her. With her wet clothing sticking to her altered form, she raced on toward an access panel that lay about thirty feet ahead of her, her most logical means of escape. She could hit that panel which led to a

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parking area behind the building and then she could take to the woods or find a nice ride to boost. Simple. But as she rounded the final curve, she caught a glimpse of several bodies, all smirking with triumph. “Welcome,” one of them spoke, and then she gasped as she felt a small stab of pain in her chest. She looked down to see the shaft of a small dart protruding from the right side of her chest. Almost immediately, she felt the cold sting of the poison as it entered her body. Automatically, her system began to classify and identify the foreign matter flowing into her body. Vodka. Bleach. A chemical compound identified as Sani-flush…Chloral Hydrate…Chloral Hydrate and sulfuric acid…Calcium Oxide… Black Cobra! They drugged her with Black Cobra! Even as she identified the fast-acting knockout drug, she felt the lethargy take over her body. Because it was injected rather than ingested, the effects were instantaneous. She blinked twice as she began to lose focus, even as the nanocytes that infected her body fought to reverse the effects. Then all she could see were two pairs of dark brown, waterlogged shoes as her head slammed to the ground. “At last,” someone crowed and the water stopped. Then her world lapsed into darkness.

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Chapter 4

Midas was not a happy man. He arrived at Digitec PA and was almost flooded by the wave of soaking wet programmers that filed out, all complaining about freak bugs in the systems and computer viruses that screwed with environmental controls. The huge black man with the long dreadlocks was quite a shock to some, but then these people had just seen everything! Anna! That was the word on everyone lips! Anna, sweet, sexy little Anna had apparently hacked her way into some serious trouble. And now members of GSS were on the grounds, questioning people about their little, hacking sex goddess. The emotions rolling off all of them were almost enough to bring Midas to his knees, but he resisted the urge to give in to the shock and fear that flooded through his system. He resolutely pushed those emotions aside and opened the door, anxious to find out more about today’s fiasco. His large, dark aviator sunglasses were pushed up into his hair, leaving his beautifully masculine face clear. His dreads remained tied neatly at his nape and he drew even more attention as he rose to his full, damn-near seven-foot height. Narrowing his eyes, he searched around the area through the milling workers and the security force that moved along, asking questions. The whole scene was chaotic, reminiscent of those disaster movies he hated to watch. There was only one way to figure out what was going on, he decided as he loosened the reins on his mental blocks just enough to get the feel of the place.

Again, shock and fear slammed him.

Excitement was high and he gathered that there was not a lot going on in the average programmer’s life. All the reactions he sensed were common and understandable, until he felt the glee. Narrowing his search, he zeroed in on the gleeful delight that seemed to radiate off one person in waves. Turning, he scanned the area to his left, focusing on a man smirking as he talked to a few of his colleagues. He was too damn smug for his own good, Midas decided, wanting to know what was bringing out such an improper emotion in the face of the chaos that had apparently just befallen this company. “…little bitch.” Richard sniggered as he adjusted the huge, black plastic frames of the glasses that continuously slid down his nose. “She got what she deserved, too, breaking into my terminal and putting those ‘Gay sex gods, Live’ pictures in my file! I knew it was her all along, just because I am the more

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brilliant mind! Damned hackers, always got their nose up in the air like their shit don’t stink. But I showed her! Turned her ass in, too! It was beautiful…” He paused as the other two men in the group stopped laughing and congratulating him. Slowly, Richard turned and almost gasped as a huge, quiet man advanced on him. “Anna?” Midas questioned slowly, his voice devoid of any emotions. “Who are you? You GSS?” “Anna, and I will not ask again.” Richard paled and tried to stammer out a correct response. Common sense told him that if he forced the man to ask again, he would not like the consequences. “I have no idea.” He spoke in a high, frightened voice. “The guards are looking for her as we speak.” “And you turned her in?” “What’s it to you, buddy?” “How did Anna behave?” “What?” “How did Anna behave? Out of the ordinary?” “Mouthy!” One of the programmers added, leaning around a quiet Richard as he gave the answer. “She is usually quiet and amenable.” “Hmm.” Just like that, Midas turned and walked away. He had enough to go on. Electra obviously took the place of this Anna person and he knew that she would ditch that identity soon. Again, he opened the barriers a bit, just enough so that he could absorb the emotions around him and store them for later use, even as he searched for the exotic combination of uncertainly, fear, confidence, and arrogance that was his Electra. He pulled his glasses down and began to walk around, ignoring the programmers who still milled about in confused, wet misery. It wasn’t long before he felt the psychic aftertaste of Electra, that residue of her emotions that she unconsciously left behind, that every person left behind, when faced with strong emotions. Because it was merely a residue, a trail, Midas became worried. If she were still in the area, he would have picked up on it by now. “You there!” a voice called out, and Midas found himself stopped by two men in security uniforms. “What is your purpose in being here?” “I’d like to see some ID,” the other added, neither of the wet guards smiling.

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“Certainly,” Midas told the stiff guards as he reached into his front pocket, a cold smile on his face. He pulled out a wallet, ignoring the pair’s small jump as he flipped open the worn leather and presented them with a small card. Just as one of them was reaching for it, he pulled on the energy stored within, fused it into a fine beam of fear, and shot it at one of the guards. The man never knew what hit him as his knees suddenly turned into jelly and he found himself damn near pissing his pants. “What’s wrong with you?” his partner asked, ignoring the tall, dark man who slipped away in the face of his partner’s sudden distress. “Make it stop,” the man whispered, as he huddled in on himself. “What?” His partner looked around, desperately trying to discern what was plaguing his partner and found nothing. Soon the man’s whimpers turned to screams and the screams to shrieks as he clawed at his own arms. “Make it stop! Make it stop!” As the second man tried to get his partner off the ground to stop him from screaming and drawing an even bigger crowd now gathering around in interest, Midas slipped around the back of the building. There, waves of disgust and anger hit him, as well as the honey-sweet and bitter taste of failure. Was this Electra? He turned and visually followed a trail of tire impressions to the woods behind the building. Then he knew enough. Someone had Electra! He had to get to her, to find her, to rescue her. It was his fault she had been captured and possibly placed in danger. If GSS was moving around like he had been told, then it was a good chance that she was in the clutches of Medusa’s Hand’s biggest enemy, and it was all his fault. He turned sharply and exited the area, hopping into his car and pointing it toward the only people he knew he could count on to help.

***

“Oh, the wonder of GPS and all of its varied uses.” Midas ignored Michael’s prattle as they searched for the satellite frequency that would lead him to Electra. Midas had wasted no time in racing back to the woods of Virginia to inform Medusa’s Hand what had happened. His guilt ate at him, making sure that every mile the beast bit harder and got a tighter grip on his soul. Once back at their safe house, he immediately tracked down Michael and all but dragged him to the computer that was always under lock and key, affectionately named Electra’s Emergency Special.

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This computer could do the impossible but they rarely used it. No one knew exactly what Electra had done to the computer, but it was fast, untraceable and had GPS tracking ability. Midas and Electra always knew that they might have to use it one day to locate the other for retrieval or sterilization. Midas wore a small locator under a flap of removable skin, but no one knew how Electra locked into the system. The others were expendable. He knew he could operate the computer, but Michael was much better. So after he logged in with his thumbprint, retina scan, and a voice match, he pushed his computer expert into the master chair and issued his command. “Find her.” No fool, Michael got to work, his fingers flying over the keys without error, his grin spreading as he got a chance to use this almost god-like piece of machinery. “Okay, Boss,” Michael, purred, as a grid map rolled across the screen. “I think we got it.” “Give me an exact place and ETA. I am going to mobilize The Unit.” “The Unit?” Michael gasped, his fingers stalling on the keys. “You have two minutes.” Midas’ voice was icy as he turned and exited the room. Midas then activated the All Call for The Unit, the most elite of the elite in Medusa’s Hand, trained by him, commanded by her. They were the best and if what he suspected were true, they would need the best to correct this mistake of his. Closing his eyes, he paused for a moment, an unusual expression taking over his normally stoic face. His grief and pain for a moment broke free, a pain so harsh that it almost brought him to his knees. But then just as quickly, he recovered and moved on, striving forward, doing what he had to do. There was no other way. It was all that he had left.

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Chapter 5

“Huuuuu!” The sound that ripped from her throat was painful and loud, the sound of someone emerging from some deep, dark, dank something. Awareness came in one painful jolt! Colors flooded her eyes as her lungs pulled in too deep a breath, making her chest burn and her heart explode in agony! Yet the shock of the cold water sucked the breath right out of her, giving her a sinking feeling, as if she were imploding in on herself. “Wakey, wakey,” a pleasant masculine voice all but purred in her ear. “It is time for all good little girls to tell their daddy what they know.” Where was she? She tried to recognize the familiar voice calling out for help in the distance. How many of them were there in this place? It was a huge room and there was computer equipment everywhere. It reminded her of…her past experiences, of them, and of what they did to her. She couldn’t let them do that to another person. She snapped back to her first unpleasant, waking reality when she heard that voice and that cry for help, so much like the cries she heard in her childhood, when they first played with her mind and body. She vaguely remembered sending a filament into a line, any line that was nearby, and sending out an urgent plea for help before losing consciousness and the thin line retreating. But then she woke up and…

Electra tried to calm her breathing, to force her body to quickly adapt to the new changes even as her senses catalogued them. Her arms were tied tight and high above her head, lashed together from wrist to elbow. Even her fingers were laced together and tied tightly. Her legs hung freely, but she discovered, as she tried to stop the nauseating, pendulous sway of her body, that if she tried, her big toe could almost touch the ground. Her knees were also laced together with some thick, stiff material that had just enough give to prevent it from cutting even more painfully into her skin. Her head lolled forward as if her neck were broken, but that could work to her advantage. It would give her time to assess her situation, to reconnoiter the room a bit and examine her captor…that is, if she could get past the pain. She could feel the nanos doing their job, repairing the tendons that were straining with the force of her own body weight. The ability of the nanos to repair her body could be a

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good thing or a bad thing, depending on what torture they planned to use. She was sure that they were planning to use torture. Either that or the biggest bondage orgy that ever existed. Her guess was that it wouldn’t be the bondage thing, even though she was nearly naked. She could still feel her short style briefs covering her ass and her support bra was still intact. Not to say that their plans wouldn’t change later, but for now, it appeared that it would be straight torture. The good and the bad? Well, it was good that her body would be able to withstand any of the rigors that they were planning to subject it to. The bad thing was that her body would be able to withstand any of the rigors that they were planning to subject her to. If she appeared to be able in body and mind, they would continue much longer, with much more intense torture. Although she had trained for this little eventuality, theory and practice were no match for the real thing. Then he spoke again, drawing her from her silent contemplation. “Daddy’s heard a lot about you, Electra.” That made her blink and she almost gave her shock away by struggling against her bindings. How did he know her name? “Shocked?” he taunted as his footsteps drew him closer. “You shouldn’t be. I know all about you and those wonderful critters that inhabit your body.” That brought her head up with a jerk, ignoring whatever would happen to her later. How the fuck did that man know that? Her nanos combusted upon exposure to oxygen! There would never, should never, be a trace! “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Darius Cane and, unfortunately, I will only be observing today. Pity,” he purred as he reached out and ran his fingers over the cold, wet skin of her cheek. “Such pretty skin, even-toned, with the right amount of elasticity. I am betting it would peel from your body like an orange skin.” She could only shudder at the loving tone in his voice, almost childlike as he stroked her face. “But I only get to ask the questions this time. Next time, I’ll get to play. And I am thinking that you will make such a lovely Daddy’s girl.” Electra stared at the man named Darius and was barely able to repress a shudder of fear and disgust. Her eyes widened as she read the truth in his eyes, the truth that told her that this man really enjoyed his work, that he would take delight in peeling every inch of her skin from her body. Her pain and fear would feed the demon she saw deep within his eyes, barely banked, waiting for a chance to release hell-fire all over her. Her breath caught as she read the ruthlessness in his eyes, the eagerness of his stance. Even if he did not get to participate directly, his inner monster was almost cackling with delight, waiting to relish the

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screams that she had no doubt his pet torturer would unleash. Her eyes stayed trapped on the monstrously beautiful face as he backed away and a shorter, nondescript blonde man stepped up. Her attention reluctantly broke contact with Darius as she focused in on the one who would actually be performing today’s torture. “I don’t have a name.” She didn’t even have to ask as she took in the compassion that flared up the plain blue depths of his eyes before he looked away. He had the look of someone who had seen it all, done it all, and refused to do anything as tacky as purchase a t-shirt. She could tell he was serious about his craft. To this man, it would just be another job, a job she had no doubt that he was really good at, but just a job nevertheless. She knew she’d prefer his touch to that of Darius’. With Darius, it would be personal. “Shall we begin?” the devil himself intoned and the resigned torturer opened a small tray table he held folded at his side. It was a testament to how rattled Electra was that she didn’t notice it first. But the blonde placed the table clearly within her view, then pulled a rolled-up bundle from the huge pocket of his protective lab coat. Her eyes followed his movements and she noticed for the first time that both men wore plastic shields over their feet, to protect them from blood splatter, no doubt. But those hands again drew her attention as they unrolled the tight and bulging black leather roll. He unveiled it with a practiced snap of his wrist, revealing several sharp scalpel-like instruments and a set of dentist’s tools. Shit! They were serious. “Now let’s play a game, shall we?” Darius whispered, anticipation making him grin like a fool. “I ask a question, you answer the question…or I get to watch No Name over there have some serious fun. And I do so look forward to him getting a chance to play.” As he spoke, No Name reached into the leather sack of unholy goodies and selected a long, narrow, and, she was betting, sharp as hell blade. He held it up to his eye, examining the cutting edge, then turned to face her again. Without any show of outright emotion, he placed it aside and pulled another pack out of his never-ending pocket of goodies. This time it was a small glass vial of clear liquid and a hypodermic syringe. Before she could question what the liquid was, he inserted the needle into the rubberized tip of the vial and pressed the plunger down. There was silence in the room as he filled the syringe to the desired amount, then withdrew the needle, plucking at it to remove air bubbles and depressing the plunger so that a small stream flowed from the tip. There was a bright flash where the liquid hit the concrete ground, and that small flash made her heart leap in terror. Electricity? Was it possible…?

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Then, while she was gawking at what could possibly shut down her whole system down, No Name thrust the needle into her neck, depressing the plunger and sending a shaft of pain so deep through her body that she opened her mouth, but the scream refused to emerge! Her throat froze, and then pain, a pain worse than any she had ever experienced, even more than she could remember from her childhood, coursed through her veins! All she could do was exist in shocked agony, her eyes growing wider and wider as they locked onto Darius’ face. “Now,” Darius continued, “Where is Medusa’s Hand?”

***

I-95 was a stupid highway. It took them forever to get to the location that was not that far away from Digitec PA and the fact that she was so close and undiscovered was enough to make Midas’ poor temper even colder.

But after approximately fifteen minutes of gathering the team and giving

instructions, they were about to invade a modest warehouse-style lab. According to their press, this company was nothing more than an innocuous hydroponics lab, making the earth a better place through vegetables grown in water. Midas almost snorted at the thought. Unless assassins came in a seed sack with water to go with the usual fertilizer of bullshit that they carried with them, this plant was one of the most obvious fronts that he had ever seen. But boy did they have a lot of stuff to blow up! That almost brought a grin to his face as he gathered up another sack of fertilizer, and began to mix the manure, which contained enough ammonium nitrate to level the outer walls of the building, with a calculated amount of zinc powder he had brought with him. He almost smiled as he recalled the way The Unit had swarmed over the gates and immobilized the supposedly top-notch security detail. It was almost laughable. He shook his head and wondered why no one had ever grown suspicious of the place. Why on earth would they need guards with M-18’s to protect vegetables? That just went to show that people saw only what they wanted to see. It took his people almost no time to synchronize with the camera angles and remove the guards undetected from their posts. It was brilliant, almost graceful, the way his company moved! They replaced the downed guards with their own men in pilfered uniforms and waited for the signal from their fearless leader…who had just laid in the final of fifteen bags for his fertilizer bomb. Why waste his own material when he could use what was on hand? C4 was expensive and this stuff was just lying around! Not very smart for a group of kidnapping, thieving terrorists. Shaking his head at the stupidity of others, he quickly made his way to a safety zone behind some rather sturdily built potting sheds and gave the signal for Michael to start the sprinklers from his souped-up laptop.

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As usual, Michael was on the outside, waiting and coordinating things in a nondescript van parked a block away. If anything should happen to Midas, Michael would come in and take over the operation, getting The Unit to safety without compromising the mission…more than he already had, Midas thought with a bit of guilt. “Go,” he whispered into the small communicator he had latched inside his ear. The microphone and receiver were powerful enough to pick up his whisper and relay Michael’s affirmation. He mentally started the countdown the minute the sprinklers started, also the signal for his people in disguise to run like hell and his assault troopers to lock and load. As usual, when planned by Midas, everything went off without a hitch. “Four, three, two…one!” Within seconds the carefully placed incendiary devices exploded with a glass-shattering boom, the force of the blow knocking holes in several outer walls and the flames burning whatever material they landed on hungrily. Alarms began to sing and lights flashed as several men raced from inside to see what was happening. “Now!” Midas whispered, as he motioned his men to storm the battered gates. In the confusion of a fire that would not be contained, with smoke and the foul odor the concoction left behind, The Unit easily swarmed over the unprepared men, their facemasks and breathing apparatuses making them impervious to the odor and burning smoke. Midas let a smile cross his face as he easily slipped through the fighting men, not avoiding the firefight, but using this distraction for all that it was worth. Ducking a barrage of bullets that the defenders shot into the darkness, trying to hit invaders that seemed to come out of nowhere, Midas raced to the corner of one of the larger holes he had created. At least four men would defend it, he speculated, as he raced across five feet of open land to launch himself into a controlled roll that put him in dubious safety behind another potting shed. He landed on his back, tossing out his right arm to help absorb the impact of his dive. Quickly rolling over onto his stomach, he ignored the shouts and screams of men shooting and getting shot, men killing, dying and waiting to be killed. He blocked out the sharp, staccato rhythm of several semi-automatic weapons being discharged and ground-crawled to the edge of the shed. For once, Midas was glad of the military gear he forced all his people to don. Inside the heavy flack jacket, there was a series of hidden pockets. From one of these pockets he produced a telescoping rod and connected a small mirror to the end – old fashioned, but effective. Sliding the pole out, he shifted it until it reflected the men shooting and defending their territory.

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As he assumed, there were four men, three in full gear with Kevlar body armor and night vision goggles. The fourth man, who was stupid enough to not wear any protection at all, took a bullet high in the chest. Holding his position, Midas watched as the three remaining men kicked the body aside and moved to cover the hole his death created. Mentally, he memorized their positions and the distance to the next object that would get him closer to the building, either the huge generator on the right side of the men or a potting barn nearly in front of them. Since they were not shooting in his direction, he assumed that they had not caught sight of him just yet. Taking advantage of their preoccupation, he chose the generator, a bit more risky for the power it produced, but worth it to at least maintain some of his stealth. Replacing his equipment for future use, he crawled to the opposite side of the potting shed and, taking a deep breath, locked his eyes on his target…and ran like the hounds of hell were on his heels. He made it, again diving the last few feet, his black gear losing a bit of its camouflage in the flames that continued to burn and create a distraction. Now that he was closer to his handiwork, he pulled a mask from his pocket and covered his face, protecting his eyes and throat from the cloying, acrid smoke. Then he took a second to reorient himself. Being this close to people losing their lives, who were either excited or scared shitless, took a toll on his shields. So much human emotion, most of it negative, pounded on his walls, threatening to take control of his mind and send him into screaming, foaming convulsions. Taking a deep breath, he centered himself and visualized his adamantium walls. He had always been a Wolverine fan and in his youth, when they taught him to build walls and shield, they told him to imagine the toughest thing he could. So his walls were made of adamantium and the childhood image stuck with him to this very day. He imagined his walls, thick and black with a slight metallic sheen, the spiked gates were massive and thick, hiding his delicate soul, the tender spirit he was born with, deeply and safely inside. During this mission, his walls were not crumbling, but there were definitely a few dents in the shielding. Pausing a moment to push them out and stop the pressure from building, he took a few deep breaths and concentrated. In what seemed like an hour, but in fact was only about forty seconds, his shields were dent free, the pressure eased, and the cold iceman façade was back in place – any and all emotion pulled away, leaving his face blank. “Going in,” he breathed, as he pulled a small blowgun from another pocket. He would only kill if necessary. He had the weapons and ammunition, but the blowgun was quieter, guaranteed to bring about more confusion. Leaning around the bulky, green generator, he sighted one of the remaining three men, got a bead on the bottom of the man’s neck where his helmet gapped for movement, took a deep breath,

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and let his dart fly. It flew silently through the air, true and straight, and hit the man in the throat, delivering a powerful knockout agent that instantly took effect. The remaining two men stared at their downed companion, shocked, and wondered in fearful confusion what had dropped him! Before they could trace the trajectory of the black-feathered dart, Midas let go with another dart, striking the second man in the side as he bent over his fallen comrade. He knew he would not get another shot as the remaining guard turned in his direction and opened fire. From his position, all Midas could see in the smoky darkness were bright flashes of red and orange as the bullets exploded from the M-18, turning up clumps of earth in front of the generator and leaving a pocked trail as the man continued to shout something and squeeze the trigger. The generator was no longer a safe place to be! Thinking quickly, Midas pulled off his facemask and tossed it across the back of the generator, away from his direction, but clearly in the enraged guard’s line of sight. Predictably, the man and his gun followed the movement, his body turning as he shot at what he assumed to be a fleeing perp, firing across the generator as he did so. “Shit.” Midas dove for cover in the opposite direction just as there were three rapid-fire metallic clicks and the generator made an awful grating sound. The next second, it exploded with tremendous force, sending white and yellow flashes high into the air, highlighting his sleek, masculine form, just for a second. The ground shook with vibrations from the deafening sound. Midas continued to roll, getting as close to the opening as possible. He blocked out the intense sound, waves of heat, and bits of metal that flew from the destroyed generator, ending his roll on one knee. He drew his piece, his Makariv 9mm semi-automatic, from a thigh holster. The world seemed to slow as he took aim at the guard, now aware of his mistake and turning his gun back in Midas’ direction, finger still on the trigger, a crazed look in his eyes. Midas fired once. The powerful, heavy, and accurate blowback gun jerked in his hand with little recoil. The bullet hit the man squarely in his exposed chin, sending blood and flesh flying as it penetrated and exploded through the back of his helmet. Midas took no time to let awareness of his sins collate in his soul. He had a mission to complete; he had to get to Electra! Rising to his feet, holding his gun down at his side and moving in a loping gait, he raced across the remaining distance and leapt over the bodies that littered the invader-made entrance. Once he was safely inside the building, he blinked as he raced down the halls, forcing his eyes to adjust to the yellow light and his ears to adjust to the loud, wailing alert sirens. “In.” He whispered into his mike as he rounded another corner, ducking back as reinforcements moved in to keep the invaders from taking their fort. ‘In’ was the signal for his troops to withdraw,

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collect the wounded and dead, and retreat into hiding nearby until he called for them again. That was the plan, a major distraction to let one man inside. When his people began to retreat, he knew that the defenders would take a few seconds to celebrate their victory, then start a systematic search to find and capture any stragglers. He knew that to be caught was to be interrogated, subjected to torture until they discovered the purpose behind this attack. There were also going to be questions from the police, which is why he planted the eco-terrorists’ admission, wondering why a hydroponics lab used fertilizer. It was not brilliant by any means, but it would throw everybody off and keep them busy tracking leads that pointed anywhere but the true identity of the invaders. Taking a deep, calming breath, he pulled out a handheld locator and watched as the small red dot told him to go down. Not his favorite thing without a woman spread out before him, but then it had been a long time since he had that treat, too! His obsession with Electra had cost him his sex life and now his obsession with keeping her safe, with protecting the whole damn unit, may cost her life. Tossing back frivolous notions, Midas made ready to move. He took a second to listen for the sound of hurried footfalls and, finding none in the hall, he raced down toward the stairs in the lower levels, praying that no one was in the control room watching him move, that all the men were now defending their territory. He hit the door to the stairs with enough force to shatter anyone hiding behind them, then quickly began to race downward, detecting no motion and no sound, other than the echoing ring of the metal door against the railing and his own breaths as he moved down on quick, but silent, feet. He was drawing closer to Electra, he could feel it in his bones, nothing would stop him now.

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Chapter 6

How many screams can a person scream before they go insane? Electra had the feeling she was about to find out as she again felt the pain of the blade slowly penetrating her skin. This time it was the inner thigh, not deep enough to sever the femoral artery, but deep enough to graze sensitive nerve endings and draw a steady stream of warm blood. It was an incision, not a cut or a slice; the depth of the blade controlled expertly, almost with surgical precision. No, more than surgical precision. No Name more than excelled at his chosen profession. Her body tried to curl into a ball to get away from the pain, but chains prevented that, not that she still didn’t try. She felt her throat burn, could taste blood as she forced another scream from its sore depths. She felt her shoulders attempt to separate from their sockets as she strained away from the pain, shook and sweated with the pain, and found that she could not overcome this pain! “No more,” she whimpered, tears running down her face as the cruel blade withdrew and she was left with the residual pain radiating out from the wound, making the other wounds throb in compassion. And there were so many wounds! Had she ever had to endure this much agony? Oh yeah. She had…once…when she and six others were snatched from their homes in the middle of the night, when she and six others bound together for a time until they were again ripped away from their security. Or how about when she was pulled away from the so-called loving bosom of her family, when she heard him whisper about getting rid of the disgrace and how this one blemish could be put to better use. Funny how pain made you think about your past, a past she had not contemplated for years. And yet here she was, taking a stroll down memory lane while some insane man shouted questions at her. Oh yeah, Darius. She forced her eyes open, past the swelling that nearly shut them both and tried to breathe through a nose pouring blood like a faucet. “You want me to stop?” He motioned No Name aside and gripped a handful of sweaty hair as he leaned into her face, his breath wafting over her, drops of his spittle spraying her face. “You want to end this? Tell me what I want to know!” Darius Cane was a good-looking man with his bright green eyes and his professionally cut, brown hair. Too bad he was some kind of insane psycho freak.

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The drug inside her urged her to tell the truth. This crap was more potent than sodium pentothal and it did nothing at all to alleviate the pain she was going through. In fact, it seemed to heighten the senses, making her more aware of each and every cut, each and every punch, each and every precious drop of blood that flowed from her abused body. But she had to tell the truth! The drug urged her to. “I-I…want…ending.” “So tell me!” he growled, looking eager and jubilant. “Stop, please,” she managed a little better as she worked her sore jaw. “Your breath…stinks.” “You bitch!” he bellowed as he drew back a hand to strike her across her presumably broken jaw. She even managed a grin, a small, eerie-looking smirk, as she watched his hand descend. Guess some people can’t handle the truth, she thought as she waited for the rein of blows that would follow. Then what would happen? Would it be rape? Would it be the removal of her nipples as he had threatened? Would it be something that would finally push her over the edge into oblivion? Damn those nanocytes that fought to keep her alive and conscious! Didn’t they know that she had had enough, that maybe the body would heal but the mind would most likely never recover? But in the exact second before his hand stuck her face, there was a building-moving explosion and the lights blinked out. “Damn it!” Darius bellowed as he stepped back, his eyes roving wildly around the room. “No! Fuck, no! The bitch was about to break!” Not hardly, Electra thought, though she could not get too excited about the interruption. The nanos would heal more damage and she would be fit for more torture soon. “NO! It is not fair! It is not fucking fair!” Darius ranted as he strode about the room, kicking over a small table that held a pitcher of ice water. It was a kind of mental torture to see what she so desperately needed, to have it so close, and yet be kept from it. She almost whimpered as she saw the glass pitcher explode, that cold, life-giving water wasted on an uncaring, concrete floor. She actually slumped in her chains, yet kept a weary eye on Darius and No Name as one ranted and carried on like a crazy man and the other waited resignedly. “Who would dare attack me?” he screamed, foaming at the mouth. What an ego, she thought. As if the world revolved around him! Finally, he used both hands to slick the hair back from his face, snapping it neatly into place, the mark of a really good and expensive haircut, and turned to face Electra, composed as usual. “It looks like I won’t have to find Medusa’s Hand, Electra, or learn what they did to make you so unique.” If you only had any idea, she thought. I guess Daddy Darius didn’t know everything.

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“It looks like they have come for you. Now how did they find you, my dear? I believe we checked every nook and cranny of that delicious, tight little body of yours, and I never found a transmitter. Must be under the skin,” he mused, looking at the bloody knives lying over the table No Name used to hold his implements. He looked as if he wanted to order her skinned alive so that he could see where the transmitter could be hidden. “But we have no time. I still need answers. So this is the new plan. My associate, Mr. No Name, will be taking you away from our gracious hospitality. I will see what’s going on here and we will continue this discussion at a later date.” Walking over to her, he pulled an immaculate white handkerchief out of his pocket and proceeded to spit into it. Smiling, he began to clean some of the drying blood from her face, carefully wiping her nose as if his every touch did not cause her pain, as if it was a privilege to have his spit coating any part of her body, as if his saliva would wash it all away and make her clean. “We still have so much to talk about and I do so enjoy our conversations,” he almost purred, before he folded the handkerchief and tucked it back into his pocket. Then, almost as an after thought, he gripped the necklace around her neck and gave it a sharp yank, snapping the thong that held it in place and assigning new welts around her neck. Smiling, as the dark gem lost its luster, he tucked it into his coat. Straightening his blood-spattered protective jacket, he turned and nodded to No Name. “Take her to my special place,” he said, all smiles and contentment even as the lights flickered and the soft, yellowed illumination from the generators fizzled out, plunging them into darkness. “I will handle this one myself. Then the doctors can have the rest.” The emergency red light flashed on, distorting her view even more even as her enhanced eyesight compensated. Electra watched through lowered eyes as Darius exited the room, leaving her there with No Name, who pulled another syringe out of his pocket of never-ending surprises. “You will wake there,” he said, as he drove the needle into her neck and depressed the plunger. The world began to swirl into a dark red haze of color and sound. The drug quickly took effect, loosening muscles tense from dealing with hours of constant pain and sending her into blessed oblivion. Too bad it would not last long, she thought as the world faded. The nanos would see to that. And then maybe, maybe, she would have her chance to escape.

***

Midas was getting nowhere fast! He’d gone downward, but he seemed to be lost in a maze of doors and corridors that lead to dead ends. He paused in a lab filled with upside-down floating tomatoes

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and pulled his tracker from his vest. The little beeping red light still pointed down and he was getting confused. Maybe it was time to use some of his special gear. Cursing and swearing about having to do something that he hoped to avoid on this mission, he reached into a protective pocket and withdrew a slim earpiece. While keeping an anxious lookout for the men and women whose emotions could overwhelm him at any minute, he set the instrument firmly in place. Then opening his senses a little, he began to search for that certain signal. The taste of rich honey, he thought as he began to carefully sift through the varied emotions surrounding him. He was looking for… Torture! They would have tortured her, so her flavor would be engulfed in defeat, pain, possibly confusion and a lot of anger. Desperation as well? He didn’t really know, so he added it all to his search. That and the spicy honey flavor that he’d used to hunt Electra for years. And when he caught a slim taste of it, he switched on the amplifier at his ear and began to probe. Anger! There was more anger than anything! There was soul-deep anger that brought him gasping to his knees, too late to pull back. She was angry! His Electra was pissed and trapped. He felt, tasted, her confinement as if it was his very own. She was frightened and…betrayed? Yes, she felt betrayed and a sense of loss! The emotions were so ragged, yet tempered, so he knew he was receiving the residuals of what she had felt. Was she dead? He shuddered as the pain hit him, the longing for death, even as she struggled to maintain what was left of her life so that she could continue to fight. Pain, such pain and fear! And not just any fear! This was a fear that only a woman could experience. The fear of rape, of certain types of painful mutilation that would not kill, but would make her wish for death even more. This was his Electra and, trying to pull himself under control, he began to store and categorize these emotions, to harness them into something usable. Holding his hands over his throbbing head, he fought to gain control of the emotions swarming through his body. Finally, he rose up on one knee and narrowed the emotions, following them like a thin line that would lead him to the body that they flowed from. His face slipped into the cold mask he normally wore as he rose to his feet. His tether to her was firmly in place and, almost on autopilot, he began to follow it. Mission: rescue Electra. Mission gleefully accepted. He turned, following the faint trail, and ran smack into a small squadron of tangos. There were only three of them and the surprise on their faces was clear. “Halt!” One voice bellowed as another reached for a radio. That would not do.

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With computer-like efficiency, his mind placed each person and their position, calculated the risks and read the anger and excitement pouring off the three men. Excitement was not want he wanted to feel from these people! He wanted apprehension. He wanted fear. He wanted them now! Reaching into the tether that bound him to Electra, he pulled out what he wanted, the agony that colored her flavor. Using it like a whip that only he could see and only his mind could yield, he lashed out at the three. The one with the radio took the full brunt of his whip and dropped to the ground, screaming that his body was on fire before he passed out. The other two paused for a moment, guns trained on Midas, before he swept out with one foot, knocking the gun from the closer of the remaining two’s hand and lashing out at him with his whip of pain at the same time. Without even checking to see if the man fell, he launched himself at the third, ducking low and ramming him in the stomach. The man rolled with the blow, taking them both to the ground, then slammed his fisted hands onto Midas’ back, hoping to knock him off balance. Midas rolled into a tight ball, protecting his neck and head and brought his own fists into play. Midas didn’t believe in rules of engagement. Win, no matter what the cost, had always been his motto. His doubled fists landed right between the man’s legs, slamming his sensitive testicles against his pelvic bone, tearing an almost inhuman shriek of agony from the man. Then Midas rolled to his feet and lifted his leg, letting the heel of his boot drop – a perfect ax-kick to the sternum. The man’s shrieks abruptly ceased as the kick knocked the air from his body and he became a shuddering ball of jelly. Instinct and a wave of anger and delight made him leap to the side as the second guard he had kicked retrieved his gun and shot at the robot of the man who was taking his friends out. The bullet slammed into his Kevlar vest and Midas felt something crack, but because it wasn’t a bone, he disregarded the impact that spun him around and sent him crashing to the floor. Again, without thinking, he rejuvenated the agony whip and lashed at this man, this time adding his own frustration and anger to the mix. The man fell like his first companion, screaming. Midas felt a tug at the line that tethered him to Electra. It was growing faint! Were they were moving her? They had to be! The line was stretching thin. “You cost me time!” he growled, his mask dropping and his face twisting with rage. The emotions he normally suppressed broke free, the amplifier making them harder to control, making them stronger, magnifying their effect! “Bastard!” the guard responded, even as he fell to the ground, clutching at his temples, his eyes rolling wildly around in their sockets, fear pouring off him in waves. That was all Midas allowed him to say. His eyes narrowed and he poured every ounce of his anger into the next whiplash, adding what he took from Electra, Medusa’s Hand, the Unit, and the

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surrounding enemy soldiers who were still running blind, trying to determine what had happened. He poured all those emotions into that lash and pushed it right into that man’s skull. As Midas turned and walked away, following the thinning tether, he left a screaming ball of a guard ripping out his hair and urinating in his pants, but still at a loss as to what happened as his brain functions slowly began to shut down. Midas began to run, his tether leading him through the maze of labs and offices as he closed in on his prey. As he ran, his training made him turn and check his pocket to see what had been damaged. He cursed silently as he felt the unique shape of the communicator Archer had given him, now in pieces. He had no way of contacting Mythos to let them know his position. He was on his own. Luckily, operating on his own was something that he was damned good at. He continued to follow the waning tether; confident he was getting closer as a wave of confusion swept through the line. Electra! He would retrieve his Electra! And then he would tell her all of what was going on, who he was and what he’d done to protect her. She had more than earned it and his guilt was eating at him. He would accept her decision, her actions and any repercussions that he would have to face, same as always, stoic and without complaint. He had earned whatever punishment she saw worthy to hand down to him. As long as she was safe, he didn’t care. Onward Midas ran, clinging to the link that would bring him back to Electra, back to the only woman he would ever… It was too soon for the L-word. Not enough honesty. Not enough time to get to know one another. But if she forgave him, that would change. For her, he could be Odin Rothwell

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Chapter 7

They were moving. Of that much, Electra was certain. Sharp shafts of pain flowed through her body as the vehicle bumped over rough terrain, jolting and jarring her into consciousness. Stifling a groan, she kept her eyes closed and silently gave the command for her stats. The list of injuries that flashed in glowing blue letters behind her closed eyelids was staggering. Dislocated shoulder, torn ligaments, three broken bones in her right wrist, five in her left, depressed fracture of the right upper mandible, minor concussion, stress fracture to the arc of her left arm, three cracked ribs, subloxed patella, damage to kidneys, and on and on it went. It was a good thing the nanocytes had already started repair on most of her worst injuries, slowly but surely bringing her body back to acceptable parameters. But it would take some time. Deciding that she could not perform any more internal diagnostics, sickened at what she already knew, and curious about her surroundings, she peeled her eyes open a crack and discovered that she was indeed moving. From her placement in the back of the huge vehicle, she could see the tops of green trees as they sped past. There were no power lines and the road was bumpy as they passed over something that was more like a crater than a pothole. They had to be in or moving toward rural territory. That was a minor blessing. There were many guerilla tactics she could implement, if she ever had the chance to get away from her captors. They didn’t have her cuffed and that was a mistake. She guessed that they assumed that she would be too injured to be much of a problem for them. Big mistake. Closing her eyes again, she knew that she could do nothing more until some of her injuries healed further. Mentally, she directed the nanos to multiply and increase the rate of treatment for her knee, her ribs, her shoulders and her wrists. These injuries would impede her movements the most. The minor concussion she had would only make her a bit nauseous. It was movement that she needed most. She ignored the lacerations that peppered her skin and concentrated on formulating a plan to get her out of this mess and back with Medusa’s Hand. But for now, she could do nothing. So she closed her eyes and tried to conserve as much energy as she could, forcing her body to heal and waiting for her moment to attack.

***

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The sound of the door slamming against the wall echoed through the empty room, however, this action was not met with relief. Instead, his bellow of anger filled the lower halls of the building. Balling his fists and thrusting them out at the emptiness that met him, he screamed out his anger and pain, his frustration and his determination to kill the one who took Electra from him. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the swinging manacles, the smell of urine and fear, the scent of her blood that filled the place. Several bloody implements littered the floor along with bits of hair and bloody cloths. There were also a few syringes filled with who-knew-what whose bloody tips glistened in the bright lights of the room. Electra had been here, her mental imprint filled the room like pressure fills the air before a storm. Shaking with anger at what he felt she had been forced to go through, he turned and exited the room, uncaring of the sounds of footsteps that raced toward him. Walking steadily, he absently reached into his vest and pulled out a small incendiary device. His face emotionless, he set the timer and tossed it over his shoulder. This place would be destroyed! He ignored the panic from the first soldiers who got in his way, ignored their pain and fear of dying as he pulled out his weapon and deliberately took head shots. Disregarding their bodies as they fell, he continued to move forward toward the exit. The second wave never had a chance. The grenade exploded, first sucking in the air around them then shooting it back with a horrific explosion. Fire and bits of twisted metal shot past him, surrounding him, and this, too, he ignored. He overlooked the fact that it was too much destruction for him to have lain, even with his grenades. He had a goal in mind and he pushed all other obstacles aside, deeming them unworthy and unimportant. He felt the searing pain as a bullet hit exposed flesh high on his shoulder, but he turned and shot the guy in the forehead and moved on impassively as his face exploded. Another bullet hit his side, cracking the protective metal against his communicator, which exploded with a sharp snap, and that man, too, fell, a look of horror on his face as it exploded into mush. He had no pity for those who had harmed Electra, no remorse for taking them out of their misery. Midas calmly shot his way out of the burning building with serene detachment, shooting where he needed, sending out a probe to pinpoint his next victim, and storing the powerful emotions for use at a later date. Methodical was the only way to describe it, serene. He even tuned out the screeching in his ear as Michael yelled at him for a situation report. The voice was annoying him, so he pulled the communicator free and dropped it on the ground.

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He strode to the nearest exit and walked out, his silhouette framed by the red-gold flames, intense heat, twisted metal, and total destruction. For a moment, he appeared to be a demon escaping from the lowest bowels of hell. Face blank, he stepped out into the cool night, watching as his troops rushed back in, picking off the soldiers who raced around, confused. There, in the shadow of the rapidly burning building, he released the hold on his power and sent himself searching. He froze, appearing to go into a trance, as he still picked off stray soldiers who ran in his direction, automatically protecting the body as his mind went searching. Taste of honey tinged with fear, peppered with anger, he searched for Electra. And after what seemed like an eternal three minutes, he found her. Walking through the carnage he had wrought, that he added to even now, he found an abandoned Humvee and within seconds, had the engine hotwired and was on his way, leaving behind The Unit, the destruction, and the bitter taste of defeat. He had not gotten to her in time! More guilt added to what he already held. He was too late. But he was hot on her trail, and he would find her. He was locked in. He would save her. Or die trying!

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Chapter 8

They stopped. She didn’t know why, but they had stopped. The lack of motion drew her out of her self-imposed daze. For the past few hours, Electra closed her eyes and played dead, pretending that she was just like everyone else, just another soldier trying to make it through. She tried to believe that the shock that swarmed her system was nothing, that she was not a threat, just a regular, beat up, incapacitated mess. But those fantasies were not working. She was not just some solider. She was the leader of Medusa’s Hand, a crack mercenary troop waging an underground war on the evil that was trying to get a strong foothold on earth. She was a leader, therefore privy to delicate and sensitive information that she was sure Darius Cain and his ilk would give a right arm to catch a small whiff of. The shock pounding at her system was very real. It tugged her toward the oblivion of sleep and promised to make it all better if she went to sleep and woke up another day! Just sleep…sleep until it all went away. Sleeping her life away sounded good. But Electra was a realist. Sleep left her vulnerable and it stole away valuable escape time. And she dearly needed the two men transporting her to slip up and give her the opportunity. Therefore, she had to stay aware as much as possible. She had to be vigilant. Missed opportunity meant death. As for the threat factor… She was a bigger threat matrix all on her own than any other terrorist group human kind dared to dream up. She could not forget that. Her body was a weapon, her mind a fast computer. She was an awesome, unholy terror to her enemies! Fear was her companion and her helpmate. Death was her friend. And if she told herself that enough times, maybe the pain coursing through her beat up and incapacitated body would catch the hint and leave her alone to plan her great escape! “Maybe we should administer an IV?” the one who drove, No Name’s assistant, whispered. But she could hear him just fine. “When we get there,” No Name answered, his tone calm. He was sure of his work, sure that he had done his job properly, sure that his latest victim would not be able to move a muscle for hours. Cocky bastard! So why had they stopped? She strained to hear, hoping that something good would follow.

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“Will she be okay here?” “I gave her enough thorazine to put out a horse,” No Name calmly replied, as he popped open the door and stepped out. Electra heard a similar pop from the driver’s side and felt a gust of cold air as he opened his door. Then she heard their shoes crunch on gravel before both doors slammed shut. Now was her chance! Cracking her eyes a bit, she saw the overhead lights of a gas station. Putting two and two together, she deduced that they probably stopped to use the facilities and refuel. She snorted silently as she vividly recalled her bladder releasing as they applied electric shock to her sensitive inner thighs, and then Darius’ maniacal laugh as they turned a hose on her after roughly soaping down her lacerated and burned skin with what felt like lye soap and a rough brush. That was before they started cutting again, making those tiny but painful little lines in her flesh, before the lights went out, the klaxons sounded, and she lost hold on her consciousness. But enough time for pleasant memories, she decided. It was time to get to work! As much as she hoped for it, Midas was not going to come walking out of the darkness to rescue her like some fairy tale princess. She had to do like she’d always done. She had to rescue herself. She commanded a quick readout of her injuries, noting that the ligaments in her shoulder and those surrounding her patella were already repaired. Her ribs were functioning, but would require more work to mend the minute cracks, all that remained of the painful breaks they inflicted with gloved fists. Her right wrist was… Damn! How many bones were there anyway? Several were still not repaired and ligaments were strained and torn. But she could still function and she directed the nanos to step up the work on those wounds. Her body was not perfect, but it would have to do. Waiting until her captors’ footsteps faded away, she carefully rolled off the bench seat of the, would you believe, gangster minivan and landed softly on the carpeted floor. Thank God, it was carpeted! The cold would have sent another shock through her system, a shock she really didn’t need. Carefully, she combat-crawled toward the front of the van, thankful that the two middle bucket seats hid her actions and would muffle any noise she made. Once she reached the front, she cursed slightly, seeing that nothing would make this escape easier. They had taken the keys. But after a moment of swearing in several languages, she remembered her training. She could hotwire any vehicle blindfolded and with one hand tied behind her back. Since her wrists weren’t fully repaired, that was exactly what she was going to do. Crawling between the captain’s and passenger’s seats in the front, she eased her head up enough to see the man she presumed to be the driver paying for something inside the small store attached to the gas station. No Name was nowhere in sight.

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Twisting her head often to keep track of the men who brought her here, she reached under the steering column and felt for the needed wires. She knew that once the engine kicked over, they would come running to stop her and that just would not do! She pulled until a rainbow of plastic coated wires fell to the floor. Spying the wires she needed, she ripped them from their connectors and reattached them to others. She used her fingernails to strip their protective coating and, ignoring the shock that flowed through her body, she combined three wires and touched them to the fourth. There was a spark, then nothing. “Damn it!” she breathed. Red, yellow and green on black? She thought she had it right. So she crossed them again, getting a bigger spark, a promise that the engine would turn over…then nothing. “Fuck this!” she muttered as she fought to hold back her tears! “Fuck you, you stupid, mid-sized, urban assault vehicle! Fuck you and Darius Cain, and Dr. No Name, and the skinny whining asshole who is driving this environment killer! Fuck the torture, fuck this cluster-fuck of a mission, and fuck you!” Glaring at the wires and feeling her hope dwindle by the second, she calmed her nerves. Now was not the time to get emotional. Now was the time for swift and decisive action! And she had to act before the men came back from the restroom. Men were notoriously quick! She took a quick peek and saw that the driver was laughing with the night clerk and making ready to exit. Time was running out! “If ever I have done one thing right in this miserable life,” she prayed. “God, please make this stupid, fucking engine turn over!” She crossed the wires a third time and got a huge spark. Then the engine growled as it turned over completely, sending a surge of triumph through her system! Climbing to her knees, she reached around the steering wheel and depressed the button that controlled the power locks. They snapped down with a satisfying click. She quickly shifted into position. Rolling the spliced the wires into a small bundle, she shoved them back beneath the dash and tried to ease the truck into gear. Nothing. What the fuck? Ah! An anti-theft device! It had to be! “Interface,” she gasped desperately, as she saw the driver turn from the window and look in her direction. As the thin filament pushed through her palm, a slight burning pain cost her a second’s breath and then was completely ignored. After all the damage her body had yet to heal, this small shaft of pain was nothing. She pressed the filament into the ignition and quickly took control of the computer systems. “Disable, you son of a bitch!” she whispered, as she urged the nanos to move faster. “Anti-theft, disabled. No, not the damn stereo faceplate, the cockpit controls!” After another second with cold sweat pouring down her back, the disabled signal flashed across her left field of vision. “Yes!” She snickered as she felt the engine rumble again, faster this time, with a pop that told her control of the transmission was released.

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Chuckling, she hopped into the driver’s seat just as the driver looked in her direction again and came running out of the store, jaw dragging the ground. “HEY!” he bellowed and she couldn’t help but laugh as he dropped his coffee, splattering himself with the hopefully hot brew as she slammed her foot down on the gas. “Fuck you!” she yelled, hoping that he could read lips. She couldn’t resist flipping him off as she sped past. Maybe he would understand gestures better! As she made a sharp right to exit the gas station, she saw No Name emerge from the restrooms at a run. That made her change direction! She cut the wheel to the left and aimed straight for the good doctor, who stood there with a deer-in-the-headlights sort of shock on his face. Only the driver taking a dive and tackling him out of the way like a NFL linebacker hot on the tail of a quarterback spared the bastard. “Fuck off!” she giggled as she spun the wheel again, kicking up dust and gravel as she tore out of the station. There would be no reports of stolen vehicles, she knew. It would be too hard to explain her condition and what the two men were doing with a tortured, half-naked woman, let alone what they had done to put her in that condition. No, the private army of one Darius Cain was going to be coming after her. And before they caught up with her, she had to get to safety and contact her men. She also had to make time to find out what was on the file that had caused her so much grief. Maybe that would give her a few clues as to what was going on with Darius and his men. But for now, she was safe and had transport. She felt so good she even turned on the radio and began bobbing her head to the smooth sounds of Carlos Santana. At least the fuckers one and two had good taste in music! But a few miles and a blinking low-fuel light later, she knew what was going to bring her plan to a screeching halt. Empty Gas Tank! Next time, let the bad guys fuel up first, before you hotwire a huge-assed minivan!

***

As she eased the dying van onto the side of the dark and deserted road, she realized what a tenacious position she was in…again. She had no clothing, no food, no communications, and no way of defending herself other than her exhausted and injured body. “Fuck you!” she again cursed Darius and his people. “May you all get syphilis and your balls rot off!”

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That may not have gotten her out of this precarious position, but it did make her feel a bit better. As she climbed from the driver’s seat, she looked around the stripped down minivan and sighed. No clothing or spare medical jackets. Nothing that could be used to protect her still healing body from the elements. No secret compartments with hidden cash, no registration papers, no ID, not even a flashlight! Once again, she was up that familiar creek, without a paddle, a life preserver, or a pair of damn flippers! It looked like she was going alone and on bare feet with nothing but her skills, training, and wit to help her through. This, most definitely, was not her night. And after an hour of walking just inside the timberline of the road, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, she knew her night had gone from bad to worse. No Name and the driver had caught up.

***

Midas knew he was close. He could almost feel her. He had been driving down Route 606 for over three hours and was so close to Electra that he could taste the psychic scent of her emotions. He pressed harder on the gas pedal, moving ever forward toward his goal. He could read the emotions rolling off her and had to hold back a smile. With that damned amplifier in his ear, he could almost read what she was thinking. She was frustrated about something, she was pissed, and she was… Fear? A sudden sharp spike of fear and anger forced him to press the gas pedal even harder. Electra was in danger! And for that type of emotional response, it had to be mortal danger! The lines on the road blurred as he barreled down the highway! He ignored the broken down minivan he passed, noting it and filing it away for future reference, and sped onward. “Closer,” he whispered. “I have to get closer faster! Electra needs me!” Almost as soon as that thought formed, he came upon another abandoned vehicle on the side of the road. He could feel that she had been near that van, and that she was running from whatever was inside that thing. Narrowing his eyes, he slammed on the brakes and was out of the truck and running before the dust settled. He never even bothered to take the keys from the ignition! The feelings swamping her were growing more urgent! She was in peril and he had to get to her before it was too late!

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Electra. Her name seemed to echo in the beats of his heart as he raced through the wooded area, ignoring the branches that struck at his face and tore at his skin. He opened his link to Electra, upping the frequency on the amplifier a little more, and his body automatically shifted to the right, deeper into the woods, following the trail of terror that she left behind. Rapidly, yet silently, he moved forward, stealth being second nature to him. He was one with his environment. His excellent night vision had him leaping over fallen trees and stepping around stones and rocks. Animals sped out of his path, almost reading the anger and frustration surrounding him. He was the night, a creature of mystery and anger, bent on reclaiming his mate. He moved faster and faster until he came upon a scene he would never forget. Electra crouched low to the ground, a wild untamed animal about to attack, a low growl emerging from her throat. Her hair hung in damp tendrils around her dirt-smeared, lacerated face. Her torn lips were drawn back in a defiant sneer. Cuts and bruises peppered her skin, some still oozing blood in slow, dark trails, painting her bare flesh. Her feet were bare and crusted with earth and all she wore were a damp tank top and a pair of boystyle briefs. Yet she looked more dangerous, more beautiful, than anything he had ever seen. The emotions pouring off her, rage and fear, were so thick that he closed the link he had to her. It was too much and would have overwhelmed his system, had he not deactivated his amplifier. As he watched and drank in his Electra, a man began to taunt her. “Come on, sweetness. We don’t have all night.” A second man stood passively back, and for some strange reason, Midas was more wary of this man than the one who was taunting. “Think I’m sweet?” Her beloved, deep voice was raspy, probably from the screams and shouts they’d drawn from her earlier. “Come get a taste.” She even crooked her finger in his direction, urging him, defying him, daring him to act. “Don’t.” The silent man warned his companion, raising one hand to slow down his companion’s headlong rush, but the arrogant man ignored him and launched himself with full force at the injured and desperate woman. It was over in an almost comically fast moment. As he dove toward her headfirst, hoping to get his hands around her waist and take her down to the rough ground, she sidestepped his flailing arms. In a swift move executed flawlessly, she reached out and wrapped her hands around his head, right about the chin line, and gave a sharp twist. The loud snap was almost like the sound of sticks breaking underwater or the sound of a chicken’s neck being wrenched. He was dead before his body hit the hard ground. The silent one was not going to let her minor distraction slide. The look on his face was grave as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tranq gun, already primed and loaded. It seemed that the man

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had planned for this eventuality, and Midas knew that there was nothing more Electra could do to avoid this man or his shot. She looked exhausted, yet she stared defiantly at the man, disdain showing plainly on her face. Nodding at her defiance and even respecting it a little, the man lifted the gun to get her clearly within his sights. Then Midas moved into action. Emotions flowed chaotically around him, anger, fear, desperation and hurt as he focused in on the gunman. The man would die for touching what was his! Stepping out of the surrounding woods and moving around the man on a wave of anger and fear, he threw his body in front of hers, shielding her and blocking the dart as the man reflexively squeezed the trigger. Midas hit the man with a wave of emotion so intense that the man began to lose control of his body. An incredible weight settled in his heart and a burning began in the back of his head. He recognized a hunter when he saw one. “You!” he gasped, as the dart sank into the body armor on Midas’ chest, its point not penetrating the skin. The combination of sedatives poured out onto the material of his jacket, staining the material dark. Yet all the man could do was stare and begin to feel the heady emotions weighing him down. Pain, remorse, anger, guilt, they were all there and more besides. The pressure in his head grew so great that he could hardly breathe. His temples pounded with his rapid heartbeat and his brain felt like it was about to explode, like it was rapidly heating up from the inside! “Me?” Midas questioned, taking a step closer to the man. Now that the man was incapacitated, he stopped in from of him and easily pulled the gun from his nerveless hands. “You!” he panted, as flecks of blood-spattered foam began to form at his mouth. “You! Death! I knew you would come for me…” He accepted his fate; he knew this day would come. He took a rasping breath as he fell to his knees. “It was just a…job…” he managed, as blood began to drip and then pour from his nose. A red river that stained his whites dark crimson. “Just…an-another …job.” “And the very last job you will ever do,” Midas added as he read sincerity in the man’s emotions. What a joke! A sincere torturer. The irony was unbelievable. The man had just been doing his job. This was just another day at the office for him; this was nothing personal. He was but a highly skilled soldier, but unfortunately and unforgivably, he was fighting on the wrong side. Midas narrowed his eyes as he concentrated on the man, giving him a fear that he had never felt, then increasing it to sheer terror. He watched with dead eyes as he fed the man all the fear and anger he had caused. How much anguish could one man take? How much could he live with until it slowly began to drive him mad?

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Yet, Midas felt no pity for this man. He had a conscience! He knew wrong from right! And yet, he served his people by doing unspeakable things and causing no small amount of terror in God knows how many people! This man had more than earned his punishment, and his victims, all of them, earned their retributions a thousand fold for suffering in this man’s hands. As he watched dispassionately, the man raised one hand to clutch at his chest as the other went to burrow in his hair. He tried to cry out, to ease some portion of the pressure that was rapidly building within. But the intense pain stole his breath away. His left arm began to swell and throb as it left his hair and reached out, almost beseechingly toward the living death known as Midas. His chest was on fire and his ears rang like the bells on a church steeple! The fear increased and doubled until his eyes grew so wide that his pupils were pinpricks of dark surrounded by an immense white light! Then something internal, maybe the blackness of his dark soul, exploded. He gasped one last time as his heart shuddered, unable to take the strain from the all-consuming fear forced into his mind. Red streaks filled the whites of those too wide eyes as several vessels in his head gave way. Blood poured freely from every orifice in his head and his breathing became a rattling, wet gurgle. He fell to the ground as dead as his companion. As he fell to the forest floor, body still shuddering and spasming, Midas took a step back and calmly turned away. “Electra?” he asked, his voice raspy, as he moved toward her carefully, hoping that she would recognize him and not go on the defensive. “Midas?” she managed, as her world began to sway. Could it be? Was her mind playing tricks on her? But no, there stood Midas. At his feet lay Dr. No Name. Blood coated his whole body, yet there was not a drop on Midas. How had she missed him killing the good doctor? She remembered a dark shadow stepping in front of her, and then Midas speaking. But he killed the man, right? How had that happened? Electra began to shake, fine tremors assaulting her muscles, and her chaotic thoughts were not helping. “Midas?” The trees, Midas, and the ground were one big, swirling vortex. “I’m here,” he whispered, taking a cautious step forward, growing more concerned for her by the second. Electra now knew that he was a hallucination! That or she was about to pass out. Was that tenderness in his voice? Midas didn’t do tenderness. He did cold rage and controlled emotion, but he didn’t do concern or tenderness! “Midas?” she asked again and he took a shaky step toward her.

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Was he real? Her right hand reached out when he was close enough and tried to touch him. Her fingers grazed his cheek, rough with a new growth of beard, but the flesh beneath was solid, real and warm to the touch, even if the man himself was as cold as ice. “Midas,” she whispered, as her vision started to gray and dim. “You are really here. You are real.” Then the whole world tilted and began to go black. He was there to catch her when she fell, finally giving in to the need for rest as nanos raced through her body, performing miraculous healings and trying to stabilize a strained system. Her last sight was of his face, creased in worry, as he caught her in his strong arms. “Midas…” she managed, a small smile blossoming on her cracked and bleeding lips. “I knew…I knew you would come for me.”

***

When she next opened her eyes, she knew she was again traveling in a vehicle, but one much larger and finer than the minivan she was in before. There was music playing in the background, something soft and soothing, and the warmth of a blanket surrounded her. She must have made some kind of movement, some kind of sound, because a deep and gentle voice murmured to her. “We are safe. We are going someplace where you can recover. You can relax, Electra. I have you. You are safe.” “Where…” She opened her eyes and attempted to focus in on the voice. It sounded so damn familiar… But the world was twirling again, dancing around her, taunting her. “A cabin owned by a friend. We are almost there. We will be safe there. You are not alone, Electra, I have you now.” “Midas?” Was that whole forest sequence not a dream? Midas was really here? She snapped open her eyes and searched for the man, who, like some hero of old, had come to her defense and saved her from a fate much worse than death. With almost comedic rapidness, her sight cleared and the first thing she noticed was the twigs and dead leaves stuck in his dreads. Then his face cleared in her sight. Set in serious and familiar tones that were at odds with the gentleness of his voice, he took his eyes from the road to stare at her. That rich, brown skin seemed to glow with undertones; the strong jaw, the gold-brown eyes that took in everything as he turned away – the road, the gauges on the dashboard, as well as her close and amazed scrutiny of his disheveled person.

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It was Midas. “But…but…” It wasn’t a dream. Midas had come for her. He was actually worried about her. Maybe she was dreaming. No, this was no hallucination. She was sure because as he glanced at her, she could almost read the sincerity in his eyes before he managed to throw his emotionless mask up again, before he hid behind the thing that made him such a formidable opponent. “Safe,” he repeated. “I have you. You are safe.” He had his mask back in place now, under his stern control, but his voice was a dead give-away. Midas cared. Warmth began to fill the center of her chest, a heat that had nothing to do with the nanos, her injuries, or even the healing that was proceeding at a rapid pace. This heat was something different all together. Midas, her Midas, cared for her. “Safe,” he repeated again. “I will keep you safe.” She believed him. How could she not? He’d said it more than once and the major thing about Midas was that his word was his bond. She was safe. She drifted off to sleep with his voice whispering reassurances in her ears and the sweet musky smell of his body in her nose. She was safe.

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Chapter 9

It was the sunlight that woke her up again. Brilliant, yellow light filled her room and created rainbow patterns behind her closed eyelids.

There was the sound of birds chirping and singing,

welcoming the new day. And it was that blasted sunlight and those damn birds that brought her to a screaming awareness. The sounds and sensations were so at odds with what she expected, with what she was used to, that it instantly drew her out of a deep sleep. This place was not her home. One minute, she was out cold and the next her eyes were wide open and searching. But she didn’t feel any fear; there was no sense of dread or dark anticipation. She felt safe. So she lay there, underneath warm, unfamiliar sheets, blinking her eyes to try and kill the illusions of what she thought she saw. While trying to figure out where she was, a deep voice brought her out of her contemplation. “So what are you?” She blinked again and jerked her head toward the voice, Midas’ voice. She couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the room at the same time. It had the look of some kind of cabin, rustic and quaint. She saw that she was lying on a huge, four-poster bed. The tall, sheer-draped monstrosity was directly across from one of two doors in the room. There was one dresser, devoid of any personal or identifiable touches. It sat next to one of the doors she assumed was the bathroom because of the tile bullnoses that were visible through the partially cracked door. There was a thick, braided rug on the floor. That, and the warm maple nightstand beside the bed, gave the room a comfy, homey feel. Then her eyes focused in on the man speaking. Boy, was she glad that she was lying down! Otherwise, the shock would have laid her flat on her ass. It was Midas, but a Midas that she had never seen before. His hair in those tiny dreads had never looked so soft and free. They flowed down his body, a red-brown drapery that made him look regal and approachable at the same time as it framed his magnificent body. It was a body that she never had the privilege to view in its almost natural state while relaxed. Midas shirtless was quite a usual sight around the compound as he demonstrated new martial arts maneuvers or helped with some of the hard labor it took to maintain the camp and its vehicles. She had even seen him in his board short swimming trunks as he ran relays with Medusa’s Hand or The Unit.

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But a half-naked, totally relaxed Midas was something else altogether! And what a wonderfully beautiful relaxed body it was! Corded muscle, even at rest. Midas was not body-builder huge, but there was definitely awesome muscular development – tight, taut and sexy. His cocoa brown skin held strength, power and a healthy sheen, like he woke up every morning and rode horses or some healthy, natural crap like that. His shoulders were a mile wide and strong, his biceps bulging as he brought both his broad hands to rest on his slim hips. His pecs were like boulders, more than well formed. His darkcolored nipples looked like chocolate kisses, waiting to be licked and sucked right off his chest. His stomach was not exactly washboard, but it was damned close to a cobblestone path she would love to travel with her tongue. Did she mention that he was defined as hell? Even his navel, a cute little innie, conjured up thoughts of lascivious sex with some liquid beverage she could lap out of that indentation. His body was damn near perfect, showing a form that could easily hold a lot more muscle if he chose to add it. But she knew that if he bulked up too much he would not be able to move properly to perform the techniques he used in deadly hand-to-hand combat or in the martial arts. She even found the thin, treasure trail of hair that ran down into his pants from below his navel appealing. But that was not all that made his body such a formidable model of strength and power. All types of scars peppered his chest and arms. She could see a bullet wound high on his right shoulder and one low on his right side. There were ragged tears that indicated jagged knife wounds or places where shrapnel penetrated his skin. And there were burn marks, not bad ones, but the kind one gets from exploding grenades or from deliberate torture. There were places where stitches had been applied and removed and places where it looked like something had just lashed out at his skin. So many scars, each one with their own story to tell. Midas, with his quiet soul, his almost too-gorgeous-to-be-believed face, and his awesome body, was a warrior. You could tell with just one glance at his battle-scarred, hardened body. She tore her eyes away from scrutinizing his bare chest and brought them to his face again. “Ex…” she tried, but her throat was too dry for her to speak. She frowned and brought one hand up to her throat, the universal gesture for thirsty. Instantly understanding the problem, Midas walked over to a small bedside table and the pitcher of water that she failed to notice. He quickly picked up a glass and poured her a cup. And damned if he didn’t toss in a straw and a slice of lemon, just the way she loved to drink it. He inserted the straw into her mouth, lubricating her dry throat with the first couple of pulls, and repeated the question, just in case she didn’t get it the first time. “What are you?”

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“What…what do you mean?” she managed, trying to hold down the shock of panic that pulsed through her. “What do you have flowing through your body, Electra? What do you have that makes you,” he swung his arms over her body, indicating her whole form, “heal?” “Heal?” She looked down at her own body then, realizing that while she was ogling the man, her damaged arms and upper body were exposed…and no longer damaged. She blanched, color draining from her face. “I’ve sat here and watched you,” Midas began, as he took a seat beside her on the mattress, causing her body to slide closer to him. “I sat and I watched as burns and slashes healed clean without a scar. I held your hand while your bruises faded into nothing. I felt a crack in your ribs mend itself while I was examining you, Electra. What are you? What are you hiding?” For once, she didn’t know what to say.

***

Darius Cain chuckled as he read the message from his exalted leader and twirled the strange necklace around his middle finger, as if slipping the owner a not-so-polite gesture. No one could identify the dark stone and now that it was away from his darling little pain-whore, it lost…something…like the glow and the illumination that seemed to pout our from its insides. He placed it in a deeply padded envelope, to be sent away to Colorado for a detailed analysis. Sighing deeply, he tossed the package to his second-in-command and motioned the man to wait for final instructions. It may be important to his goals or, then again, it may be fool’s gold. Either way, he didn’t like mysteries surrounding him and he wanted this one solved. As he scanned the message from the one known as Agamemnon, a huge smile overtook his face. It was time. It was about damn time! He waved his underling back and retrieved the package, motioning the man away. Damn near orgasmic with delight, he took the necklace out of its case and began to perfect his plans. He was about to go off to Virginia for a visit and a very special reunion. And with what he had just been told, he knew that very soon all of their plans would come to fruition. All of GSS and ORION would rejoice at his success. He quickly left the room and moved toward the cells where he had one very special prisoner.

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“Michael,” he purred, as he entered the room, all smiles and understanding. He had caught the man sniffing around the ruins of the lab where he’d had his little pain-slut. So the first thing he did was contact his network to send out a few photos. After he sent the pictures out, red flags popped up all over the system. Michael was part of Medusa’s Hand, and therefore a valuable commodity to have on his side. His way in, so to speak. The man was almost instantly noted as one of the key players in Medusa’s Hand. He was privy to all sorts of technical and sensitive information that would give Darius the edge when dealing with those renegades. His luck had never looked so good! Now that he had that information to assist him, all he had to do was to convince Michael to pass over the reins to him. His demands were so simple, too! Just take him to their headquarters, give him data on Electra and that man, Midas, who had come after her, and pass the power of Medusa’s Hand over to him. “Michael, it is indeed proper to address a man who is being polite and addressing you.” “I am not speaking,” Michael said, wishing he’d followed orders and retreated with the rest. He glared at the other man, thoughts running chaotically through his head. He knew Midas was too important to Medusa’s Hand to lose! And when the building exploded into fire and destruction right after he had lost communications, he did what most technical people without much battle experience would do! He panicked. After he ordered a full-out retreat, he decided to follow Midas and try to give the man a hand. He figured that Midas’ one man inside trick would work again. It had, but he had been caught mere seconds after determining that Midas had gotten away and was hot on the trail of Electra. Getting caught on the way back out was not part of the original plan, but still here he was. His head dropped at his thoughts, but the sound of the man clearing his head brought him out of his memories and put his attention firmly onto Darius. He knew that there was nothing they could do to him to make him talk, but he kind of feared the torture session he would have to endure to make them really aware of it. He would die, taking his secrets to the grave with him. He was prepared for that, but pain was and never would be a delightful part of his repertoire. “I just need you to listen,” Darius reassured, reading stubbornness in the set of Michael’s chin. Still smiling and trying his best to project friendly vibes, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled the necklace free. “Agamemnon sends his regards.” Michael gasped as he stared at the man in shock mingled with fear. How did he know about…? And how did he get Electra’s necklace? Was Electra dead?

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“What…? How…?” “We have been compromised, Michael. One whom you trusted the most has taken Electra. He works for them, for the GSS, Michael. We have been betrayed.” He gave him a moment to let those seeds find fertile ground in his mind before he continued. “You have to take me to Medusa’s Hand. I must to utilize their strengths to get her back. If she cracks…” “You are lying!” Michael lunged out of his seat at the madman. “None of Medusa’s Hand are traitors! We all would give our lives for our unit and that’s been proven time and time again! You lie!” Michael’s face twisted in anger as he stared at Darius Cain with nothing but disgust. “Her own father begs you to turn over the reins to me, Michael,” he countered, smooth, calm, and blessedly controlled. “A father would always want the best for his only child.” Never let them see anything but what you want them to see. If I am a representative of her father, then that is exactly what he will see, he thought. “I know who the traitor is! I can get her back!” “Who is our contact, if you are so smart? No one would betray us! And Electra will never crack! It is obvious that you don’t know her at all!” Nearly foaming at the mouth, Michael growled and jerked in his restraints, but only succeeded in throwing himself back into his seat and nearly pulling his arms out of socket. “We are all disheartened by this information, Michael. But I have no reason to lie, not to you. I can only give you my word. But if you will not help me, then you are free to go.” He tossed a key onto the table in front of the agitated man, within easy reach. “But remember, every second we waste in not cooperating is one more second that he has to brainwash Electra.” He sent Michael a pitying look before continuing. “They have the means, you know. They have devices that can turn the brain to mush. Alien technology, Michael. Some of the most sophisticated devices any species has ever seen, let alone develop. And he will not hesitate to employ it.” He waited a moment. He was sure that this line that would catch his attention. “Who?” Michael could unbend enough to ask that much. He stared at the man. “Midas.” Michael snorted and rolled his eyes. “It’s true. If you don’t believe me, go back to your people and look for a file. I believe Midas brought it back to Electra to lead her into this latest mess. It is the beginning of a series of subliminal

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messages designed to lead her to the trap that ensnared her. Look for the file, Michael. The file that Midas procured for her, and then call me.” He produced a white card with some black script printed neatly across the front. Then he placed the card on the table beside the key. “I only pray that it’s not too late.” Darius turned sharply on his heel and walked out, holding in his snort of laughter as he left the man chained and in confusion. Darius always got his way and this time would be no different. These common soldiers were so easy to figure out! The poor bastard would run back to his people and check for the file Darius already knew existed. That savage Midas had stolen it from them a few days ago. This man Michael, he would waffle for a day or two, maybe less. He would agonize over things that had never meant much to Darius, things like betrayal and guilt. He would have conflicts of faith and would spend sleepless nights contemplating which was the right thing to do. And then he would call. Oh yes, he would call. Eventually he would get what he was after, Darius thought. Control of Medusa’s Hand, the means to get to the President and, most importantly, it would be strike three for Medusa’s Hand, whose people kept interfering with their plans. And that is what Darius Cain wanted the most. After that, GSS would succeed in their plans to wrest control of this miserable rock from the addled and outdated minds that had the power now. After this plan came to fruition, they would be invincible.

***

“Still waiting.” And he was not happy about it. Midas sighed as he stared at the woman he knew he was beginning to love. He just knew it! She could sit there in that bed and try to look innocent when he knew what he saw. Her healing proceeded at an unnatural pace and he wanted to know why. Not that that would change how he felt about her. He was falling in love! Stupid, he thought. He had been so stupid not to recognize it. It took almost losing her to drive that point home. But now that he had her safe an in an undisclosed locale, he was going to get the answers he desired. And he needed them now! What was she? Who was she? Was she anything like him? He had even called Archer and forced him to go through his files to find out what he already knew

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about Electra. Now, however, he was searching for what he’d missed because he was acting like some love-struck fool! What had brought about this change in her and what could possibly cause this rapid-fire healing? Was it always there and he had not paid enough attention? Or was this something new from the minds and hands of ORION and the GSS? At this point, nothing would surprise him. He had been advised to learn what he could and then bring her in for her own protection. If the GSS got any concrete data on her, then she would find herself in a government lab, dissected without the benefit of anesthetics. That was not good for anyone concerned. They would kill Electra and then he would have to kill them. Death would fall from the skies like rain! And no one wanted him to rain down on them. No one! He turned his attention back to her as she began to speak. “I’m Electra Monroe, Midas. Just the same as I always was.” “Then how do you explain having a week’s worth of healing in less than a day? How do you explain bones that knit themselves, Electra? Or a transponder signal when there are no transmitters anywhere on your body and, believe me, lady, I checked. Thoroughly!” “Electra,” she reminded him, hoping to draw him into an argument, into anything that would get them off this topic! “Lady, Electra, whoever you are.” His eyes narrowed in anger and his chest began to heave with agitation. Damn, he was hot when he was angry! “What, you don’t trust me, my Number One?” She even smirked at the end of that one, but it didn’t change the subject, more’s the pity. “I trust you. I am trusting you right now, with my very life. I would die for you, Electra. You should know by now that those aren’t meaningless words. That will never change. I just want to know what I am putting my life on the line for.” That was a fair question, Electra thought as she stared at the man. Especially after he had done so much for her. If he had gone missing, she seriously doubted that she would have arranged more than one escape attempt. She would have written him off as an acceptable causality and moved to put someone else in his place. He was expendable and he knew it. She was expendable. Hell, everyone in this business was expendable! Yet he had defied all modern military convention and had come after her. She owed him at least that much. He really cared! Never had she seen him show such emotion before. It was almost as scary as

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it was a turn on. Midas, the golden man with the golden hands, actually did have emotions! And more amazing than that, he was starting to project those emotions to her. This is what she wanted, a mischievous voice whispered to her. This was the stuff of her fantasies! She had desired this ever since she went hand-to-hand with him and found that they were equal in skill and strength. She wanted this, had always wanted this, but not in this way. “I didn’t know you cared,” she muttered, looking down at the soft, faded sheets that enveloped her. How long would she be able to evade his questions? “You know I care, Electra.” Midas sighed as he ran one hand through his dreads, then used both hands to pull them back behind his shoulders. “That is why I am asking. You know that I am the last one to gossip and I am asking because I really do care. If you can believe that, Electra.” Well, this close to the man, there was no way she could lie to him. Besides, she had never lied to him before. Now was not the time to start. There was no way to avoid this any longer. She had to tell him the truth. “Midas,” she waffled a bit, staring at the sheets, the gauze netting on the bed, the window where the cheerful sunshine and the annoyingly cute little birds chirped, at anything but him. “Um, I am going to ask you a question and believe me when I say that I am not joking or trying to deceive you in any way.” Guilt shot through him at her words, making it as hard for him to meet her eyes as it was for her. But the long practice he had in concealing his emotions was something he could fall back on. Within seconds, he hid the dismay on his face. “Midas…” “Electra…” They both looked up at the same time and met each other’s eyes. The concern she saw there made it easier for her to ask what she had to ask him. “Midas…do you believe in aliens?”

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Chapter 10

“Aliens?” Well, at least he looked curious, Electra thought as she watched him get settled more comfortably on the bed. At least he was not screaming for the men in the white jackets and the butterfly nets. It was good he was looking really comfortable, too. Because this story was going to take some time to tell. “Aliens.” She put as much sincerity in her voice as she could. “And my belief in the extra-terrestrial has to do with what?” He crossed his hands in his lap and leaned forward. She had his full and undivided attention. “Well, have you ever seen the X-files?” “Me, Fox, you, Dana, stop stalling.” Was that…? No. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be… But there it was. Midas cracked a joke! Electra blinked, her words temporarily lost as she stared at the man. Since when did Midas show anyone this much emotion? Hell, since when did he develop some? First, he admitted that he cared for her and now this! It was disconcerting, to say the least. She moved to sit up and rest against the wooden headboard, but then as the sheets slid down, she realized something else. She was completely and utterly naked. “Um,” she began, as she looked down at her bare breasts, still a bit too stunned by this new Midas to move very quickly. She hoped that her nipples were not hard! Then dark hands came into view as Midas grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to her chin. Damn, he never even got a chance to see if they were hard! Um, that is, if she wanted him to notice such a thing. She looked over at him and noticed…yes, a faint blush staining his cheeks. It looked kind of cute, actually. And cute was a word that no one in their right mind would use to describe Midas. Words like masterful, strong, brave, and foolhardy came to mind, but never the word cute. It was fascinating. She peered at his face and noticed that his blush increased. How far would it go down? “Stop stalling.” He tucked the sheet under her arms and then crossed his arms over his chest again, patiently waiting while the blush cooled down. “Well, they kind of took a liking to me when I was six or seven. So they invited me to come and stay for a visit.” “Fox and Dana?”

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“Aliens, Midas! Pay attention, please!” He nodded and waved one hand in her direction, giving her the floor with his symbolic action, waiting for her to again take the lead. “Well, they kind of took me and my sisters…” “Wait a minute,” he interrupted. “I thought you were an only child.” “If you will stop interrupting me, all will be explained to your utter and complete satisfaction!” Her eyebrow arched back up almost into her hairline, her ‘in command’ face. Midas, being the intelligent man that he was, held his questions. “Now, as I was saying, me and six other little girls were taken. Don’t ask me where they are, because I have no idea. We were separated soon after they started the torture.” “Torture?” This required even more explanation. Torture was such a strong, yet appropriate, word, she decided. “Well, they infected me with something, Midas. All I can really remember is the pain, the neverending pain.” Her skin paled as she dove back into those memories, a small shudder taking over her frame as she fought for control. The past could not hurt her anymore. They were just memories. She silently chanted her mantra to herself as she tried to gather her thoughts. “They did something…to me. It hurt like hell! But they kept doing things, Midas. It left me…changed.” “How, Electra? In what way did it leave you changed?” Midas looked like he wanted to reach out and grab her hands, to offer her some sort of comfort. But Electra’s eyes said that she would not appreciate that gesture at all. She knew that she would break if he so much as touched her. So Midas held his place and waited. “I don’t know, actually. But they did something internal…to me. It was like fire, Midas. Like fire flowing throughout my brain. Even my hair hurt. It was all I could do to stay sane.” She paused to take a deep breath, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead, but she forced herself to continue. “And when I didn’t think I could take anymore, when I was praying for death just to make the hurting stop, it got worse. God knows how long I lay there. It could have been weeks, hours, days, or years. I don’t know how long I damned God for not letting me die or how I endured.” She hesitated a moment to gather her thoughts and clasp her hands together, to try and stop the fine trembling that was taking over. She forced herself to continue.

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“And I couldn’t pass out, Midas. That wasn’t allowed. That would corrupt their testing and they would start all over again. They needed accurate data. I remember praying that they would keep me on any one of their machines, that they would kill me with their experiments and discover that human girls were not what they needed, that they would kill me and spare the others. But they didn’t Midas. No matter how much I prayed for it to be, they didn’t kill me and they kept the others. Hell, I have no idea what they did to them. For all I know, they may have killed them off, trying to do to them what they were doing to me.” “And what did they do to you?” Midas’s voice was soft, but it still had the effect of a cannon going off in her face. It jerked her out of her memories and back to the present. She took a deep breath and attempted to compose herself again, to get the rest of her story out. “They made me less than human, Midas, and more at the same time.” Midas waited for an explanation, but she had more to tell him first. Electra gathered herself together and continued her tale. “I woke up and I couldn’t speak. I woke up in my bed and I couldn’t talk, Midas. I had screamed so much that I’d damaged my vocal cords. I remember my father looking down at me, and my mother crying, and all I wanted was to beg them to hold me. I wanted to, so damn much, but I couldn’t make my throat move. I tried and tried, but wound up crying and scratching at my neck like I had clawed at my face when I was trying to make the burning stop. Then my father got such a look of …disgust on his face. I believe that was the very moment he started to hate me, that he wished I had died.” Midas jerked into action, defying his one and only order! He reached out with his arms and his heart for her. He took one of her hands now knotted in the sheets and began to lightly stroke her fingers. Her hands…they were so cold. “He walked out,” she continued, barely noticing that Midas was stroking her hand, offering her some comfort. “He said that he couldn’t stand the sight of me, that I was his one and only failure. Right after he walked out, the doctors said that I would never speak again, and that hurt so damn bad, Midas. I was so confused. I couldn’t tell them when I was hungry or scared. I couldn’t move so I couldn’t tell them when I had to go to the bathroom. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to wet the sheets or mess your underwear? They put me in diapers, Midas – hot, sticky, uncomfortable diapers. I couldn’t tell them that I needed to move because my joints were stiff or my arm had fallen asleep, or that I was still in pain, or even that I couldn’t remember most of what happened to me! I remembered the girls and the pain. At night, I had nightmares, really bad ones. I think they call it survivor’s guilt mixed in with some major post-traumatic stress or something, but I grieved for those little girls who were probably still stuck

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there. I wondered why I had been let go, that maybe I was a failure like my father said I was. Even the aliens who were trying to kill me couldn’t get it right. But they had the other six, Midas. And I could only imagine what horrible things those monsters where doing to them while I lay there, a disappointment to my father’s eyes and uncomfortable in my hot little diapers. I imagined I could hear them scream! Every night, they screamed and they begged me for help. They turned their condemning eyes on me for not getting them out, for being the only one let go. I dreamed of their cold, dead hands reaching out of the grave for me, Midas! I would have woken up screaming if I could, but then, I couldn’t even get up to turn on the fucking light. Even with my eyes open, I could see them coming for me in the dark, reaching out to drag me back in so I could share in the punishment I escaped, punishment that I knew I had earned. I was such a wreck.” She paused to take a deep breath, to free herself again from the taint of old memories. She looked up into the horrified eyes of Midas, and saw no pity there. She saw compassion and understanding, and found that he silently urged her on to lance this wound that still festered deep within her soul. “But then something happened.” “What?” His voice almost pleaded for her to continue, to share this horror with him. “Someone stopped being selfish and remembered that you were only a wounded child?” “Kind of.” She gave him a small, mysterious smile. “One day I was really thirsty. I mean really thirsty. I was so thirsty that I wanted anything to take my mind off my discomfort. I knew that the woman watching over me would not be back for hours, her soap operas were on in another room and being around me depressed her. I think I had been home for about a month or so, and I had nurses and doctors in and out of my room, poking at me and prodding. But one of them left a stethoscope on the bed. I think it was an accident, but I so wanted to reach out and grab it to see if I really was alive, if my heart was still beating, or if I was still trapped in this never-ending nightmare my life had become. I had just had a nightmare, that and the thirst woke me up, but no one knew. It was completely dark in my room and I was scared, but I could see the silver on that stethoscope shining like a beacon. And I just needed to check, a childish flight of fancy or something, but I couldn’t make my arms move. Then I thought, no, more like I wished that my arm would move. Then there was this tingling, Midas. It burned like fire and I couldn’t scream to make it stop or to get some help. But just as I was praying for death to end this agony once again, my arm moved.” There was a grin on her face as she relayed this and her grip on the sheets eased a bit. “It just up and moved all on its own! I mean, my whole body was wrecked, and I was damn near in tears, and then suddenly I make a wish and it came true. So I wished I could speak and the next thing I knew, I was screaming for my mommy.”

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Midas had to chuckle at the look of amazement on her face as he relived a wondrous memory with her. To a suffering child, that simple wish must have seemed like a miracle, and apparently, it still remained miraculous in her mind. “It hurt, Midas, but nothing like before and…and in a different way. But my voice was working and I was wishing that everything would move so I would be normal again.” This time, bold and bright, a full-fledged smile crossed her lips. “The doctors hadn’t a clue; they assumed that my body had been in shock because of some unnamed trauma that the kidnappers had done to me, and that it had somehow reversed itself. They really started believing in the crazy story that I told them about being taken by aliens. I couldn’t remember what they looked like or what they did, but they were aliens. Of course, they thought I meant illegal aliens from Russia or some such place and that just made my father pile on the psychiatrists while keeping the kidnapping story that was put out seem all the more real.” She sighed and looked up at the ceiling as she contemplated her relationship between herself and her father. “Poor little traumatized Electra. It was a joke, Midas. A house of cards built on lies and deception but the public fell for it.” “So…” Midas urged her to continue when it looked like she would stop. “So, I grew up thinking that my mind had cracked under some extreme torture that my illegal alien kidnappers put me through. It wasn’t until I was kidnapped the second time…” “Wait!” Midas’ eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He shook his head as if to unclog his ears and stared at her in awe. “The aliens got you again?” “Nope. Something else entirely got a hold of me. Something more dangerous and exacting. Medusa’s Hand got me!” She exploded into giggles at his look of confusion. It was so entertaining to see all of those emotions acted out on Midas’ face! Astounding, really, but wholly wonderful to look at. When her laughter calmed down, she began again. “They took me because my father was involved in some unscrupulous business. To this day, I have no idea what they had on him, but he told them to go ahead and keep me, that I was malfunctioning and not worth his trouble. Loving words, you know?” She chuckled at the look on Midas’ face. He looked like he had smelled something foul. “I have a feeling that Wraith,” her breath caught as she said his name, “the old leader of Medusa’s Hand, would have killed me right off the bat without a second thought. But I was good with computers and had no love for my father, so he decided to keep me. And the rest is history.” She threw her arms up as if to say that’s all there is, and there ain’t any more.

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“But what are you?” “I am a trained assassin, Midas. I am a killer who stalks those who need killing.” All laughter left her face and her body stiffened up. She was back to being Electra, one of the most feared warriors in Medusa’s Hand and fearless leader of men and women. She closed herself off from him. “And what else?” “I have alien technology running through my veins, Midas.” She braced herself for his reaction and continued in a monotone. “I have little, self-replicating, carbon-based computers flowing through my veins. You would call them nanocytes.” “Nanocyte technology is a theory that is years away from completion,” Midas mused as he stared at her. But that would certainly explain some things, like the radio signal she carried and the rapid healing. “In the human world, Midas. But as I told you, this wasn’t done by humans. This was done by stinking alien invaders who are probably laughing at test subject whatever-number-I-am floundering around down here on this stupid rock, while they are talking notes and drinking martinis!” “Electra,” Midas began, but she cut him off. “I have been betrayed by everyone I hold dear to me, Midas. By my father, Wraith, whoever is feeding that madman on my heels information about me… Hell, this isn’t even what I really look like. My life is a fucking mess!” “What?” Now that gave him a start. “My…life…is…a…fucking…” She emphasized each word before he cut her off. “No. What do you mean this is not what you look like? Hell, lady, I have scrubbed every inch of your naked body and the curtains and the carpet match. I can tell you are not wearing any kind of costume or dying your hair. And I am very observant!” Electra snorted, then an evil smile crossed her lips. “Okay. Watch this.” Electra closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and silently ordered the nanocytes to give her back her original appearance. Midas watched in shock as her body heated up so fast he could feel it. Then she tensed. Slowly, almost as if he were watching a time-lapsed film, her hair began to lighten and change. The nearly black became a lighter brown, then red before it settled into an auburn color. The shape of her eyes arched more, their almond shape becoming more pronounced as her cheek bones moved a bit higher. Her lips became a lot fuller as her frame thinned out, becoming more delicate. He watched as her skin warmed in tone until it was a soft burnt-cream color, her neck and chest growing a bit fuller, her hips

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broadening out. Then suddenly, her hair exploded in growth, flowing down out of the usual pageboy to fall softly around her shoulders. She exhaled, and even that sounded lighter, more feminine. When she opened her eyes, they were a bright green, a color that he had never seen before on her. She was totally different, yet she was frighteningly similar to the person she was before. “How…?” He stared, mouth agape, at the woman, the true Electra that sat before him. “I told you, everyone betrayed me, Midas. My father left me to die, this body was acting out of control, the doctors, the nurses, my mother, and no one believed me! Hell, I scared myself when I wished my hair was darker while training with Wraith. He wouldn’t let me go out with him because my coloring was too distinctive and my picture was plastered everywhere.” She almost smiled at those memories, her new face giving her a girlish appeal. “Scared the hell out of me when it turned black.” Even Midas had to chuckle at that one. “Everyone always thought that I dyed it so that I wouldn’t stand out, but that was an accident. I learned to trust myself, Midas, to trust this technology flowing through my body, because I sure as hell can’t trust anyone else.” She looked down again at her hands resting on the sheet before she forced her eyes to look into his. “Then I met you. I trust you, Midas. You know all my secrets, now.” Her sincerity glowed in her eyes and poured out of her, filling him with a light feeling of utter and complete joy. She trusted him! “You know things not even Wraith knew. He grew to like me for my body, Midas. He kept me around for the computers; well, my whole brain is one huge fucking computer, Midas. I am the ghost in the system, the thing that can and will read, write and erase your ass if I feel the need. Nothing can prevent me from accessing what I want. Hell, I can connect to everything. If it is electronic, it obeys me.” She giggled at the shock written plainly on his face now. He made no move to even try and hide it, what she was telling him was so amazing. “If only I used these powers for good,” she sighed and gifted him with a smile. Not the ‘I-knowsomething-that-you-don’t-know’ smirk she perpetually wore, or the ‘good job’ half-smile she tossed to her men, or even the ‘I’m-going-to-kill-you-slowly-and-painfully’ smile she gave her enemies. This was a real, stunning in its beauty, Electra smile. He had never seen that one before, and it was directed at him! All it did was increase his feelings of guilt. The joy of seeing her smile began to dim and harden in his chest to apprehension. “Electra,” he said, the smile leaving his face. “There is something I have to tell you.” His head dropped and the light faded from his golden brown eyes. He sighed deeply and appeared to withdraw.

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Her smile died a quick death as she read his body language. “What? Tell me Midas! What is it?” She reached out for him, but he moved to avoid her touch. He ignored the hurt look on her face and the taste of blossoming pain that painted his mind with dark colors of remorse. “I…I am not what you think I am.” “Are you an alien, Midas, and you never told me?” She tried to joke, but the fear was evident in her voice as it caught in her throat. “Not exactly. I was sent here for a reason.” “Sent?” Her eyes widened as she slid across the bed, away from him, crouching in a ready position that didn’t bode well for him. “Who? Who sent you?” “Some people… People who are trying to save…the world.” He lifted his head and looked up at her. “Save the world?” she growled, a feral light filling her eyes. “Save the world, for what? From who? Who are you, Midas, if that is your real identity! What are you here for? Who do you work for? Ready to do a little alien hunting, Midas?” She hissed as he spoke, pulling further away from him. “Who in the fuck sent you?” Midas watched her, his heart shattering as he saw fear and distrust tint her eyes, and the emotions… Lord, he could feel the betrayal. But he looked into the eyes of this exotic creature he had come to care for, and he knew that he had to tell the truth. “No, Electra. I am not an alien hunter. I’m something much worse. I am a spy.”

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Chapter 11

“Gold, gold, what’s so great about fucking gold?” Michael muttered to himself as he tore through Electra’s desk. It was almost sacrilege to defile her work area, but he had to check out what the man, Darius Cain, said. As soon as he freed himself, he hot-footed it back to headquarters, stealing and exchanging three cars along the way, taking a circular route that would confuse any tail. Finally, he left his last car in a nearby mall and hiked the rest of the way in. It had taken him one full day, but he had to ensure the safety of his group. No one was too surprised at his disappearing act and no one said a word as he came back. Michael was good at computers and recon, so they assumed he was covering Midas’ backside. He didn’t have words for anyone either, as he reached her office and began to tear through her things. Electra was by nature a neat and orderly person, so it took him only a few moments to locate the disk that Midas had brought to her a few days before. Had it only been three days? It seemed so much longer, he sighed. He took a seat in her chair and placed the disk into her computer drive. As the computer made a low whirring sound, he wondered how he would know if it had any messages, subliminal or otherwise on it. A million scenarios ran through his mind and the best he could come up with was to search for any anomalies or encoding on the disk. He ran an advanced scan on the computer that turned up no anomalies. Dead end. So he cautiously executed the program. With his advanced equipment and the tweaking that Electra and Midas had done on the computer, something should have turned up. But again, he found nothing. He had to credit Darius and his people; they were good at creating fairy tales. They at least had the name of the disk correct. “Gold,” he sighed again. Opening the file, he quickly read through a myriad of complex equations. For what, he had no idea. There was no music or flashing lights in the file that would turn his brain to mush. Instead, there were just equations and a few three-dimensional diagrams of what appeared to be a strand of DNA. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the monitor, sliding down in his chair to do so. What to do, what to do? The choices he had left to work with agonized him. Darius knew about

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Agamemnon, he knew about the disk, and he had Electra’s necklace. The necklace that Electra always refused to remove because it contained part of her past. Darius had to be telling something of the truth and he was definitely a part of the plot. Either way, he needed to bring Darius here, to learn more. He had to know where Electra had disappeared to and what he knew about Midas. Darius Cain was in deep. Sighing, he plucked the business card out of his pocket and stared at the name and number. “Damn it!” He suddenly snarled as he jumped to his feet, knocking the chair back with a loud bang. Seconds later, a pair of men came running down the hall and into the office, weapons drawn and at the ready. He must have alarmed them with his unusual actions. “What it is?” Michael demanded, as they looked around for the reason that calm and quiet Michael would create such a racket. “Where are Midas and Electra?” one guard asked, suspicions high. Mercenary people were not the most trusting of people and, when in doubt, most tended to look toward their leader to give them some direction. “Electra is gone,” he calmly stated. “Electra is gone, Midas is gone, and I have been given some puzzling information.” The two stared at him, their mouths open in shock, then shook their heads. This meant Medusa’s Hand would be disbanded, its members scattered to the four corners of the earth. It had always been that way, even before Wraith disappeared. It was a failsafe set up for their protection, a failsafe that Electra endorsed if leaders should fall. It was to protect them from infiltration. They didn’t bug out when Wraith disappeared because he left clear instructions that Electra was to take over in the event of his disappearance. So Electra moved them and laid in a new set of codes for them to follow, basically keeping the same ideals. If she were to disappear, then leadership would fall to Midas, who had more than proved his worth over the time that he spent there. But Electra and Midas were both gone now and this was a situation they had never dealt with before. “Have you heard from Aggie?” one asked, speaking of the man they usually got their orders from. “Not directly, but through someone who claims to know him well. He wants me to turn Medusa’s Hand over to him.” There were a few moments of shocked silence, before one almost shyly ventured, “Have you tried contacting him?” “Only Electra knows how.” Michael took his seat again, resting his elbows on the desk. He knew what was coming next. “So call the man,” the other said, before walking away. It was cut and dried to him.

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His partner added, “If he knows that much about us, then he probably knows what to do. Call him, unless you feel the need to…” The man narrowed his eyes as he stared at Michael. “…take over.” Not good! This was so not good! A flash of pure panic flowed through Michael as the man stared intently at him. If he tried to assume command, there would be a free-for-all. Medusa’s Hand would tear itself apart, each member trying to claim the top spot. It would be a blood bath that would end with most of them dead. They were all well-trained, efficient, and even loyal, but at heart they were still mercenaries, working for the highest bidder or the strongest leader. Without strong leadership they all could agree on, it would be a civil war that would spill out into the civilian sector. Then only God knew what would happen. “You know better than that.” Michael sighed as he reached down and plucked up a satellite transmitted cell phone. These men, who would no doubt run back to the others with their tales, had forced his hand. He had to call in Darius Cain if he wanted to protect his people. But he would keep a close eye on the strange man and, at the first sign of any trouble, he would do all in his power to rain down the wrath of the gods on his perfectly coifed head. Turning away from the man, but still aware of his watchful presence, he pressed buttons that would bring the devil to their door. “Cain.”

He spoke even before the man could answer.

“I am sure you’ve picked up our

coordinates from this cell phone. We are awaiting your arrival.” “Excellent. Agamemnon will be pleased.” Michael said nothing, just pressed the off button and placed the phone on the desk. The man was gone, no doubt to spread the bad news. But before Michael sat down to play the waiting game, he secreted the Gold disk away into a place that only he and Midas knew about. Then he quickly erased any traces that the file had ever been run on this computer. Finally, he sat back and waited. It was something he was good at, waiting. He would wait for this Darius Cain to come in and slip up. It wasn’t easy to maintain a cover when you were this deep in enemy territory and Darius Cain was bound to screw up sometime. And when that happened, Michael would have his head on a platter.

***

“Explain, Midas, if that is your name!” Electra demanded, as she felt the safe little bubble she’d built around herself explode.

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He sighed as rose to his feet and moved away from the bed, away from the person that he wanted nothing more than to toss down on the bed to see if her strawberry curls went below the waist and if they were as tasty as they appeared. “I am Midas, Electra.” His voice was cautious. “Make no mistake about that.” He motioned her back to the bed and felt a little of the tension leave as she wearily complied. “I work for an organization called Mythos. We are basically here doing the same thing that Medusa’s Hand is trying to accomplish.” Electra was skeptical. “By spying on me and my people?” There was anger in her voice and that didn’t bode well for him. “Not spying exactly, Electra.” He sighed, regretting his poor choice of words. He looked sad and serious at the same time. This was costing him. “Let me start at the beginning,” She settled on the bed. Midas took a seat on the floor, bending his huge body into a comfortable position, knees bent, arms resting on them. He figured he deserved a lower position. It would put her more at ease to have even this small symbol of superiority – him looking up at her. “My government name is Odin, Odin Rothwell. And I was sent because Medusa’s Hand was implicated in the murder of a few men fighting against the GSS, among other things.” “Why would we do that?” Electra asked, indignation as well as anger sounding in her voice. “Because you have been fed wrong information, Electra. That is why I was sent. You were slated for destruction, you and all of your people. My organization felt something was wrong and I was sent in to investigate.” That shut her up, froze her in her tracks. “Destruction? You are serious, aren’t you?” Her eyes were wide, amazed and dismayed at the same time. “You all were slated for destruction as I said, but my commander thought differently. He thought that you all believed in what you were preaching, Electra, even if your actions said something different. So I was sent in to solve the problem of these anomalies.” “Anomalies? You call casting aspirations on what we are doing anomalies?” Her voice rose into a near shriek as disbelief and anger warred within her for dominance. “I call it like I see it, Electra. And Medusa’s Hand is responsible for shutting down several labs and sites that were sending us important information vital to our continued existence. We could not allow this to continue.”

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“So they sent you in to test our loyalty?” “No, they sent me in to find out where you were being fed wrongful information.” He wearily ran his hands over his face and neck. “Hell, Electra, I know what you stand for. For over a year I have been one with you, I have become one of you.” His eyes bored into hers, showing his sincerity on this point. “I know everything about Medusa’s Hand and it is not evil! There is no duplicity in any of you, only strength of purpose! So that only leaves one thing to consider. That leaves the people who are sending you orders.” “Agamemnon?” “Yes, Electra. That is the only anomaly in your organization, one weakness if you will. You get your orders from Agamemnon. He could order you to do just about anything and you all would fall in and do it, without question.” “Agamemnon would not send us out on frivolous missions, Midas or, should I say, Odin. You have been with us long enough to know that.” “I know that, Electra. And as soon as I developed my suspicions, I began investigating those orders from Old Aggie and I found a pattern. A group would develop some vital equipment or discover some important piece of information and as soon as he got word, they were under attack. Under attack by Medusa’s Hand, Electra. They made us into terrorists!” “One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter, Midas. Or didn’t you know that?” “I know that, Electra.” He was sounding frustrated, causing his muscles to tense and his jaws to tighten. “Oh, I guess now you are going to tell me that not only were we Judas, but the whore of Babylon in bed with the GSS.” “Not knowingly, Electra. Agamemnon has led you astray.” “He would never!” “Have you ever met him? Huh? Have you ever met the man himself?” Now Midas rose to his feet, his eyes serious and penetrating, as he demanded answers. He placed both fists on the bed on either side of Electra, leaning right in her face. With his gaze, he demanded that she recognize the seriousness of this situation. His intensity left her speechless. “Have you ever questioned his orders, Electra? Have you or Wraith, or any or the others ever questioned him? Or do you all meekly follow where he wants you to go?” Confusion etched Electra’s face.

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“I have no need to! He gave orders to Wraith before I took over, before I was a part of Medusa’s Hand. He gave the order to spare my life, Midas. He saved me when I would have been left to rot in some unmarked grave! Why should I have reason to doubt him?” “Because you blindly follow him, Electra. Blindly following anyone is stupid. And that is what makes you a fool, Electra.” “Fool?” His words struck her in the heart. “Fool, Midas or Odin, or whoever the hell you claim to be; I am a fool for trusting you blindly. Should I just start calling you Odin now?” She blinked rapidly at the tears suddenly forming in her eyes. They wanted to fun freely down her face, an expression of her anger and pain, but she kept them under firm control. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he tried to explain, reaching out toward her, but she jerked away. “Well, it sounded like it to me, Mr. Rothwell.” Dropping his hands, he sighed and shook his head, filled with guilt. He was never good at dealing with people, at communicating with them. Add in the emotions he allowed himself to feel…it always came out wrong. “I trust you, Electra. I care for you.” “Funny way of showing it, Odin!” she sneered, not backing down one inch. “I’m trying to save you, Electra. There is something wrong with Agamemnon, something vile and deceitful, and you know it.” “I don’t…” “Think woman! Have you ever researched a target? Have you ever checked and seen what happened when the mission was completed?” “No. Why should…” He had a point, she thought, and then became angry at herself at the thought. So she glared at him with a look that promised death, if she could have her way. How dare he shake up her balance? “Don’t you see, Electra? There is no evil in you or in Medusa’s Hand. I’d stake my life on it. I have staked my life on it several times and I will again at a moment’s notice. So the problem is in the one giving you your orders. That is the only answer.” “I find this hard to believe, Midas.” “I have never lied to you.” His words were strong and true. “Lies of omission count as lies, too, Midas,” She snarled her words, growing angry at his deception all over again. If he lied, even by omission, about his purpose and his duty there, why shouldn’t he lie about the feelings he had professed to feel for her?

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“I did what I had to do, Electra, and I would do it again. In fact, I knew what was going on a year ago, and still I stayed!” “Then why did you stay? Why? To find some reason to bring me down? To invent one? You set me up to find the rest of the blasted Gold file! You just sent me equations and shit, Midas, stuff you knew I was interested in. You knew I was going to check it out and you let me walk right into a trap!” Her eyes blazed as she remembered, vividly, the torture and suffering she went through at the hands of Darius and his pet torturer!! Even if she never carried a scar, she would always remember. “I didn’t know it was a trap, Electra. I swear to God that I didn’t!” He raised a hand to his chest covering his heart that throbbed in pain at the thought of what she was forced to endure. I sent you in to retrieve data about a situation that has been brewing. GSS is targeting someone, and that information should have been covered in that file. That is what my surveillance of the intern I followed earlier proves, he mentioned it several times! I have no idea how they found out that you were going to be there! The only people who knew were you and I.” “And…” No! It couldn’t be! Her whole word began to crumble and falter as what he said clicked in her enhanced brain. “And…?” Turmoil rolled off her in waves. “There has to be another explanation. You have to have mentioned it to your contacts, the people you work for.” She refused to believe that Agamemnon would… “Electra, you know that I never had the chance to talk to anyone, let alone my boss. I was with you until you left, helping you prepare for this mission.” “After I inserted then.” “You got there in what? Half an hour? That is not enough time to get through to my people, let alone establish such an elaborate set up to capture you.” “But…” Damn, he was right. But she didn’t want to believe what her mind was reasonably deducing. “He wouldn’t! He couldn’t!” “Who?” “It’s impossible! He would never harm me!” Desperation sounded in her voice! God, she prayed, please don’t take my last pillar of strength away! “Who, Electra?” He gripped her upper arms almost hard enough to bruise and gave her a little shake. “Who?”

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“Agamemnon!” She screamed as she jerked away, her chest heaving with anger and loss. “I told Agamemnon!”

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Chapter 12

“This can’t be right.” Electra kept repeating herself, shaking in disbelief at what her mind forced her to believe. “Electra,” Midas sighed, pulling her unresisting body into his arms. “I am so sorry, so very sorry.” “Sorry? What would a spy like you know about being sorry? You are nothing but a cold, emotionless computer! I have the parts, but damned if you are not the real deal with that cold heart of yours!” Midas sucked in his breath at her attack. His arms dropped back and he leaned away from her. Some part of him understood that she was hurting, in severe pain, and lashing out at any convenient target. But he did not expect it to hurt so much. “I…I have feelings, too, Electra.” “No! It is impossible for you to feel, Midas! Look at you, acting cool as a cucumber, even when you are tearing my world apart!” It became impossible for her to hold her tears in any longer. They flowed down her face, spraying across his bare skin as her body gave way to massive shudders, but not a sound passed her throat. “I feel, Electra.” Midas sucked in a deep breath as the emotions rolled off her, absorbing them like some psychic blow that left him mentally staggering. Such pain. Her pain. It was too much for him to absorb, because it was her. His Electra’s pain, and it was all his fault. “You didn’t even flinch when I told you I was an alien hybrid, Midas. Most people laugh or try to knock me out for the loony wagon. But you didn’t do shit. I guess you are going to tell your people that, so that they can experiment on me, too? Will they come in the middle of the night, strap me to a table, and steal my blood and tissue to test? Or will they destroy me because they feel I am insane?” “I have to tell them, Electra. But they won’t harm you, never that. They won’t even flinch when I tell them. Believe me, they have seen worse.” “And what is worse than a homeless little computer-infested freak like me, Midas? Because if what you propose is true, then I have no reason for being here and no place to go back to.”

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“You have a home, Electra,” he breathed as he stroked her soft hair, marveling that she even let him touch her after what he revealed. She was taking comfort from his embrace and that was a heady thing. She didn’t even appear to be aware that she was doing it. “You will always have a home with me.” “So I can do parlor tricks for your amusement?” She snorted. “Or make your surveillance equipment more efficient? Oh, wait! Better yet! I can change into your perfect little Mercenary pin-up girl. The only reason you say that is because I can become anyone!” “No. It’s because you are you, Electra. Brave, bold, and beautiful, the woman I can allow myself to feel for.” Again, she snorted and tried to push away, then muttered a muffled comment about freaks. “You are no freak, Electra.” He pulled her into the shelter of his body. “You are no accident of nature. What happened to you was done against your will. It was major abuse done to an innocent child. I, on the other hand, am God’s biggest joke.” “A magnificent liar with god-like looks to fool the innocent? A beautiful and enticing demon, sent here to destroy all that I am? A Lucifer? An angel of light who hides a covetous black soul?” “No.” He managed a chuckle at her words. “Something much worse I’m afraid. And I had no alien technology to help me become what I am. I was born like this.” “Like what?” “Electra, I assume that you believe in the paranormal.” She gave a watery laugh at his comment, her tears drying up at his gross underestimation of her beliefs. “Gee, Midas. I don’t know, man. Maybe there is some belief in me.” “Well, I am something you may have to broaden your mind to consider. Have you ever heard of an empath?” “They read people’s emotions?” She pulled away to stare up into his gold-brown eyes. “A bit more than that, Electra, I’m afraid. I can absorb them and fire them back at will. If I am anything, you could call me an Offensive Empath. Instead of just picking up emotions from people, I absorb, deflect, and manipulate them. So I am thinking that I am worse than the whore of Babylon, Electra. I am an untraceable killer.”

***

“Excellent. Brilliant, even. I am so impressed with this operation.”

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Darius Cain smiled as he looked around the completely mobile headquarters of Medusa’s Hand. This is why we could never locate them on our own, he thought. He saw that they could disband within the hour and leave no traces behind. But that is not what he wanted, not just yet. “We have excellent leadership,” Michael gritted out from between clenched teeth. “And I hope I can follow in the glorious Electra’s shoes,” Darius added for the benefit of the soldiers who remained behind. After the official passing of the guard, so to speak, there were always the curious who hung on hoping to get in good with the new boss. Michael was not like that, Darius thought. That intrigued him. Once he had traced Michael’s call and arrived at the destination, he swiftly moved his plans into action. First, he gave a quick speech about how poor Electra had been kidnapped and spun some yarn about how Agamemnon was searching for her and the evil, traitorous Midas. He didn’t know too much about the mysterious Midas, except that he was a free thinker, someone who would question orders. That was just something that Darius would not allow. Midas and any of his ilk would have to be destroyed. But not Michael. Michael was crucial to his plan of doing away with Midas. He had to keep him on and, in this case, Michael’s suspicion was helping smooth along the transition of power. Only a fool would blindly trust a stranger and if the men knew that Michael was testing him, they would be more accepting of his hard won leadership in the long run. He needed the men on his side, because he knew that he might need their cooperation after he dropped his bomb of a message tomorrow. “No one can fill Electra’s shoes.” Michael glared as he spoke. “And I find it hard to believe that she has been compromised by anyone, let alone her right hand.” “We all hope that there will be no need to neutralize her, but believe me, Midas is a tricky character and the people he works for are dangerous. According to his profile, he will do everything in his power to turn her against Medusa’s Hand and convert her to his beliefs. We cannot let that happen, Michael. Electra is too important to the cause.” Especially since she escaped, Darius thought angrily, as he recalled the messages about the missing torture victim, her ability to escape in a stolen truck, and missing interrogatories. No Name had dropped the ball on this one and his dead body more than proved it. Racing through the woods like a better trained man half his age and finding one injured woman had been too much for his heart. Then again, Darius thought after a moment’s contemplation, maybe she had been too much for them, even with her injuries. The broken neck on the driver proved that. And where had the mysterious Midas gotten himself to? There was always the danger of the man finding Electra. But the story he laid out to the men would explain that little eventuality if they returned

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either together or separately. He, on the other hand, had better get answers soon. This was not a game they were playing, this was a matter of world domination and he hated incompetence. He wanted that disk. Which brought his mind back to Michael, who turned away at Darius’ words and headed for the door. “The computers?” Darius asked, stopping Michael before he could make good on his escape. Standing as they were in one of the mobile trailers, there was no place for him to avoid this confrontation. “I showed them to you,” Michael gritted out as he fought to keep a complacent look on his face, fooling no one though. “Not that glorious affair that is sitting in the back room.” Darius gestured to the offices they were walking away from – Electra’s offices. “Sorry, no one can do anything on that computer, big guy.” Michael took smug satisfaction in reporting that information. “That is the personal monster belonging to Midas and Electra. Only they know the access codes to operate it and if you tamper with it, the computer and satellite system they have it linked to will destruct.” “You don’t…say.” It was an effort, but Darius managed not to give in to the curses that wanted to explode from his mouth. Would nothing on this accursed mission go correctly? The woman got away, the man got away, they learned nothing from her in interrogation, and now the one thing that could give them answers was out of reach! “Oh, I say. Indeed, I say. So you had better hope that Electra or Midas returns. Otherwise, say hello to the world’s largest, most sophisticated, electronic paperweight.” Making no effort to hide his chuckles, Michael turned away and left Darius standing there, a frown upon his face. “This will not be as easy as I expected,” Darius sighed as he moved toward Electra’s offices yet again to see what he could discover. A slow smile spread across his face as he entered the room and firmly closed the door behind him, leaving a smug Michael and the other mercs outside. “But then, I have always loved a challenge.”

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Chapter 13

Electra stared blankly at the wall. The same wall she had been staring at for over forty minutes, since Midas dropped his little bomb. She watched as the sun rose higher and began to set. And still she stared at the same damn wall. When her silence became too much to take, Midas walked out of the room, not bothering to say another word, but with hurt plainly written on his face. But what could she say? Not only did he just tear the foundation out from under her world, but he just let her in on a secret that had to be of national security! What the hell was she supposed to do? With powers like his and the abilities he possessed, he could very well be the greatest threat to national security that ever existed. Even greater than political country music and those jeans kids wore hanging off of their asses. To top it off, he claimed to have feelings for her. How dare he? She ignored the shot of warmth that spiked in her heart and tried to concentrate on the facts. Fact, he admitted what he had done when he didn’t have to. She could have gone on existing happily within her little bubble, outside of the world that most people existed in. The normal, everyday person would not know about merc troops or enemy movements. They would have no reason to. It was generally outside their spectrum of belief or something they went to movies to see and marvel over. They might read about it in popular fiction or see it on the evening news that reported on other, less peaceloving countries. Now she realized that she had created a bubble for herself, no less substantial than the one normal people lived in. She had created her own reality and that was something that she swore never to do. Yet it was exactly what she had done. Fact, he saved her. If he was really working for the enemy, he would have let Darius Cain and his flunkies continue to torture her to try and pry information out of her near-lifeless body. If he wanted anything from her, he could have gotten it ages ago. She trusted him that much and he knew it. Fact… Damn it! She was falling for him, no, she had fallen for him. Damn it all to hell! Her mind went off on a tangent that her heart could not, would not, support. Never had she felt so torn, so unbalanced. Not since the time she spent with Wraith. Her brain urged her to run just as fast as she could, to get away from the one who created this mental quagmire, to get to freedom!

But her heart was preaching patience.

It was preaching

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understanding. It was a disturbing thing to feel and a disturbing place to be. She had no idea what she was going to do and she didn’t like that feeling. Wrapping the sheet – more like a security blanket now – more securely around her body, she walked to the door, intent on finding out if her heart and mind could agree. As she pushed the door open, his voice stopped her cold. What was he doing? Who was he speaking to…and why? “I don’t want to bring her in, Archer,” Midas…Odin sighed. “It is too much for her to take in. She needs to absorb it all, to come to an understanding. Of course I know what she is feeling, you of all people should know that.” She paused, placed her ear by the door and listened. Who was Archer? “We both know that she is no part of it. We just need to find out who Agamemnon is. Then she can confront him and make her own decisions.” She stepped away from the door. She had heard enough. Midas was fighting for her, arguing with this Archer person, trying to protect her from this mysterious Mythos he belonged to. He was trying to give her an opportunity to discover the truth for herself. She needed answers, though, and she needed them as soon as possible. No longer was she willing to take the word of anyone, even the great and powerful Midas. She knew that he would take her back with him. He believed in his cause too much to just let her go merrily off on her own. But she refused to blindly give in to his demands. There had to be a way for her to discover what she needed while giving her time to make several very important decisions. Then she knew what she had to do.

She would go back to Medusa’s Hand and contact

Agamemnon. She would listen to the words from his computer-generated voice. She would find out what was going on in her own way and she would research her past targets. Then she would confront Midas with what she discovered. He was right about one thing, though. It was time she started taking more responsibility for what was going on around her. It was time to pop the bubble of her own making. But first, she had to get away from Midas. Oh, she believed what he said about the empathy thing. How could she, the mutant, byproduct of some alien experiment gone bad, find fault or disbelief in anything that he had to say to her? That made her escape even harder, because she knew in order to accomplish her goals, she had to get away from Midas immediately. There was only one way she could do that and mask her feelings at the same time, because there was no doubt that her emotions would give her away. As much as she hated to do it and, Lord, she prayed that some other way would come to her, she had no other choice. Tears flowed to her eyes and she felt her heart shatter. The burgeoning virgin feelings that she had smoldered

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into a dark pit of despair. She had to use him, and her feelings for him, to save her soul and maybe be worthy of him. She had to seduce him, and then leave him behind. “Why?” she whispered, as the pain in her heart due to a future she knew she would destroy as she carried out her plans brought her to her knees. She eased the door closed and pressed her hot face against the cold wood. Why, Lord? Why, when everything she ever wanted was almost in her hands, almost hers to touch? Tears rolled down her cheeks and her nose stuffed up as she fought to hold in her raging emotions, knowing that her distress would alert Midas. She had no other choice. She had to discover the truth for herself. No longer would she be content to take the word of another. No longer would she let anyone manipulate her. She would be her own woman, even if she had to damage what could have been with Midas. She had to know the truth. It was worth everything, even her imagined happily ever after. So, with one last sob for a relationship that died before it could have really been born, she rose to her feet and straightened her spine. She could do this. She was used to being lonely, it would make no difference to her now. Yeah, she told herself. Better to taste sweet nirvana in his arms and than to never drink of its fountains and be cast to the deserts with an unquenchable thirst that would never know appeasement. It was better this way. And if she kept up the stupid platitudes and cheesy reminders, she might actually start to believe it…one day. But now was not the time to dwell on it. She had work to do and, if Midas was correct, she had to help save the world, a world she unintentionally aided in drawing closer to its destruction. Girding her loins, Electra began to create plans to do the impossible. She was going to seduce her man…then leave him behind. The Honey Trap was the only way. But now, she wasn’t sure who would be caught in the trap and who would be the victim. She had a feeling that both of them would lose.

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Chapter 14

She was watching him. He knew it. He could feel her agitation, her confusion, her…arousal? He was not sure, but he even felt a small bit of defiance. “You can come out,” he sighed. Maybe she thought he was a bigger freak than she ever considered herself. Maybe she didn’t trust him anymore. Maybe she hated his guts. Lord knows, he had given her enough reasons to. “I promise not to bite.” Only in my dreams, he thought. “What fun is there in that?” Electra muttered as she strode past him, sheet wrapped around her like a toga, knowing that his eyes would follow. There was something seductive about a woman wrapped in a sheet, like a holiday gift, waiting to be unwrapped. It looked like a good breeze would pull the covering from her body. Of course, he instantly was on the defensive. What game was she playing? His mind wandered through the possibilities until he finally gave up. He was stumped. This did not fit the actions of the hostile and hurting woman he left in that bedroom just a few hours ago. “How are you feeling?” he finally asked. “How do you think I feel?” She all but snarled and he didn’t need any special powers to read the frustration pouring off her. “Pissed off and betrayed?” He offered her a weak smile. “Are you trying to be funny, Midas? ‘Cause these are the ruins of my life we are talking about here.” Inside, he winced, but he tried to hold onto his cool and calm façade. “You have a life to lead, Electra. You are only twenty-eight years old. You have years left to start over or to discover what went wrong in the first place. Or if worse comes to worse, to go away and become something else entirely. You have time and you have the ability.” “And how can I do that when, if what you say is true, I have led my people into a hell that I am responsible for. All of those atrocities they committed, they committed in the name of peace; my peace.” “Electra…”

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“I have to go back to my people, Midas. I have to discover the truth and I have to warn them.” “I have to take you to Archer, to Mythos.” God, he hated doing this to her. “You will be safe there.” “And I have to fix things so I can look at myself in the mirror! Fuck Mythos, Midas! How can I look after my own safety when my people are not safe? I just can’t do that!” “Electra…” “No!” Her eyes blazed with her passionate beliefs as she stared him dead in the eyes. “No, Midas. It seems like forever that I have identified myself with my group, Midas. They are me! They are all that I have!” “Not true.” He shook his head in denial. “Do you know how I came to be here? Do you?” At his silence, she continued. “Well, after The Outsiders did their little augmentation to me, they sent me back and I had to deal with my folks. I told you that! But I didn’t tell you that I was such a shame and a burden to them that my father let me be taken. Hell, for all I know, he may have told the kidnappers to take me! I was only eighteen at the time, Midas. Eighteen years old with my body changing right before my eyes, and running scared! But I fucking had no place to run! Hell, I would have committed suicide, but these damn nanocytes would have brought me back before I passed on! I was scared and confused, and then I was kidnapped and no one gave a shit.” Her eyes narrowed as she once again went back to some of the most painful memories in her life. “They were going to kill me, Midas. They were going to take me out because my father refused to pay and told the whole world I had been killed the moment he got the ransom demand and tried to negotiate with the kidnappers. He did it because I was too dangerous to keep around, Midas, too identifiable as the little, red-haired Asian girl who had been kidnapped once before. It was in their best interest to kill me! Hell, I would have killed me! I was too dangerous to have around.” She paused to look around the large room, strode over to a small table, and took a seat. “But Wraith saw something in me. He didn’t want to murder me in cold blood. Maybe he felt sorry for me, I don’t know, but he gave the order to hide me. “We disappeared and for years, Midas, Medusa’s Hand protected me. They trained Wraith, the others, and me. They stood by me. And when I showed Wraith what I could do, how I could change, he took me under his wing. He trained me to look after Medusa’s Hand, because he understood what it was to suffer, to be a victim, and he knew that I would never let that happen to my family. Yes, we became lovers, Midas, but that was only after I had proven myself to be his equal in every way.”

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Her breath caught in her chest as she disclosed that little detail that Midas only suspected and that she had only hinted at. Now he had confirmation…and it made him…it made him jealous! “And when he disappeared, Midas, he left instructions that left me in charge. He left me to lead my people, Midas, my family. And if I have led them astray then I have to get them back on course.” She was breathing heavily at the end of her recitation, and tears were beginning to flow down her face. “I can look after them,” Midas began. “But I have to take you in, Electra. If ORION knew about you, they would tear up Medusa’s Hand just to take you in. And there is a man named Darius Cain…he is out for you, Electra.” “He’ll just be one more, Midas,” she sighed as she ran her hands over her face, wiping away her tears. “Seems like someone is always out to get me.” “I know that, Electra. That is why I want to help. I’ll protect them for you, Electra. I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe.” His words were impassioned, shocking Electra with the amount of emotion in his voice, but he was serious. It was evident in the set of his eyes and in his shoulders. He was trying so hard to make up for what he considered his betrayal that he looked no deeper than the surface of her emotions and the words she spoke, which he suspected…which he knew were true. He crossed the room and drew her into his arms, those strong, muscular pillars of strength wrapping around her, pulling her into his muscular wall of a chest. “I’ll always protect you, Electra. Don’t you know that I’d die for you?” Then his lips slammed down, crushing her, demanding, intense. Growling, she gave in to the passion that he aroused in her, throwing her arms around his neck, her legs lifting to wrap tightly around his narrow waist. God! The feel of him, hot and so very hard, pushing against her core through the sheet! The heat was so great she was surprised the sheet didn’t burn up! But then he arched, thrusting that hard pillar of flesh against her and all thought melted away. Animal grunts and groans filled the air as Midas tightened his hold. She was such a sweet burden, so tight and fiery, and it was all for him. He shuddered as waves of lust flowed from her, oozed from her pores, and melded straight into his psyche. She was perfection. She smelled so good, like musk and wild flowers, and the harsh soap that he’d used to clean her, but under that was the smell of Electra, the strongest aphrodisiac he knew. His hands tangled in her hair, fisting her soft locks as he pulled her head backward, exposing her throat for his hungry mouth to feed on.

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“Midas!” She groaned his name as if she were in pain and being tortured. But this kind of sensual torture she prayed would never end. His tongue lashed out, lapping at her soft, fragrant skin, pressing against her pulse, before his teeth carefully closed on a bit of flesh, biting, sucking, marking her as his. She screamed, backing up into his touch. “Midas! Mark me! Make me yours!” “Odin!” he purred as he pulled back, making her stare into his eyes. “My name is Odin. Say it!” Silence. Not acceptable in his mind. His fingers slid down her chest, past the soft fuzz of her pubic hair, and into her depths. Rubbing his thumb along the slippery flesh, he firmly pressed into her as his teeth clamped onto her neck. “Odin,” she repeated, looking dazed as she stared into the swirling amber of his eyes. “Yes, baby. When you come, scream my name.” Electra’s breath rasped, heaving in her chest as she held onto Odin, body trembling, throbbing as she felt the easy strength he used to hold her up, to manipulate her. Then mind spun as he turned, backing her toward the table, his fingers still teasing her core. The cold, hard, tabletop surface was enough to distract, but only for a second. Odin Rothwell caught her attention and easily held it as he drew more liquid heat from her. She bit her lip and held in a moan of protest as he removed his fingers and, locking eyes with her, slowly licked them. She stared up at him as he pulled her arms from around his neck and pushed her legs so that her heels rested on the table, spreading her open to his gaze. Only the sheet covered her modesty and that was becoming an irritant as it slid along her skin, a curtain parting slowly, exposing the prize he had come to see. Still holding her gaze, Midas raised his hands to the tie holding back his long, silky locks. One tug sent the cascading waterfall free and filled the air with the fragrant smell of his conditioner, the musk of his flesh…and the smell of an aroused, male animal. She watched him as he ran his hands over his chest, grazing his nipples and hissing at the contact. His eyelids dropped, but he forced them to remain open as if he was telling her with his eyes that she brought him to his point, brought him to this madness. His hands continued downward, over the scarred length of his stomach, teasing at the skin above his navel, fanning his fingers through his treasure trail. “Odin…” Was that her voice, begging as his thumbs hooked into the waist of his sweat pants? “Odin.” Yes, it was, and she didn’t care!

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He looked down at her, his eyes glinting in the sun-filled room, before one hand slipped underneath the scant barrier of cloth to caress his swollen ridge of flesh that pulsed with a life all its own. His head dropped back and his breath hissed from between his lips as he gently ran his fingers over his hard flesh, fisting himself lightly as he eased his hard staff above the waistband of the sweats. “All for me?” Her voice took on a soft, dreamy quality. Was this real or was one of her greatest fantasies playing itself out in living color? “All for you, baby,” he purred. “I wanna feel, too.” Her hands reached out, ignoring the sheet that pooled to her waist, exposing her trembling breasts and swollen nipples to his hungry gaze. He stepped closer, instinctively knowing that her touch would be out of this world. “Then feel.” Her hands flew to his waist, her nails lightly scraping his skin as all pretense left her. She was desperate, she was hungry, she was needy, and Midas brought out all the lust within her. He was hot under her hands, so hot and tight, and the skin so soft. Soon, she thought, soon that wonderful flesh will be filling, sliding inside, stretching me. And there was so very much of him. The pants had to go! She pulled away from him, listening to him growl, feeling him thrust his hips forward, as she gripped his pants and pulled them down, slowly, exposing his length one inch at a time. Inch after inch of his shaft appeared next, thick and long, the color of really good Belgium chocolates. His balls were heavy and quite large as they shifted in their sack. She wanted to taste them. But first the pants had to go! “Off!” she growled, tugging at the material impatiently. Chuckling, Midas pulled away enough to dispose of the annoying pants, kicking them aside. Then he stepped up again, between her legs, leaning over her with both arms braced around her head. “This is what you want?” He did a slow grind against her, pressing his hard length into her, pressing tight so that she could feel every inch thrust against her throbbing core. Suddenly, she decided that they could go slow later! She had to have him! She wanted him fast, hard, and hot, and all the things he promised with those bedroom eyes and that deep, luscious voice! “No!” She whimpered, writhing on her back as her body lost the strength to hold her up. “Gladly!” Midas answered, then paused. “Protection?”

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That cooled her ardor, but just a bit. “This is your cabin! Where do you keep them?” “A friend’s cabin!” It was hard to think when he wanted to fuck. “Bathroom?” “Too far away!” She measured the distance from the kitchen to the bedroom. Too far away. “Don’t leave me!” “I won’t.” So he didn’t! Instead, he tested the weight of the thick table, smiling when it easily held his bulk. Before she could blink, he turned her around, spinning her so fast that the room seemed to be left behind for a moment before it caught up. When her vision cleared, she realized that she had a close-up view. A sixty-nine? Worked for her! She reached up to caress him, awed by his length, and slowly ran her fingers over its hot, veined surface. “Ah!” he gasped, thrusting into her hand. Damn that felt good. But not as good as her sweet mouth would. He parted her thighs and inhaled the scent of her. She looked good, she smelled good. He was sure that she would taste just as good, if not better. He lowered his head, his silky dreads caressing her thighs, as he closed in on his treasure. He blew on her slick folds, before his tongue slowly licked along her crease. She screamed, her hips arching up. She was so hot and sweet, he decided, as he gripped her thighs in his hands and pushed them further apart. Pretty, he decided as he pulled back, as he reached out a finger to touch those delicate glistening lips. Moaning at the slick feel of them, he lowered his head again as his fingers parted her and buried his tongue as deep as he could get it. “Midas!” Electra gasped, her fist tightening on his hard shaft as wave after wave of ecstasy shot through her. Her hips thrashed on the table and her teeth clenched as her breath hissed between them. “Ah!” Her voice rose in passion as she began to grind against his mouth and fingers, wanting more. She tried to increase the sensations flowing through her, especially when his fingers found her sweet spot. More of her essence began to flow from her. I so want to be in her mouth, he thought, shoving his fingers hard against her spot and relishing her screams. The thought was enough to make him give a shallow thrust with his hips, reminding her that she, too, had a job to do. Electra trembled! He was so good at that! She swam in the warmth of his emotions as he gave way to his hunger to have her. But his little thrust reminded her that she had left him waiting. Pulling him up, she first lapped at his heavy balls, loving the textured skin with little licks of her wet tongue. He grunted at her actions, spreading his legs a bit wider, giving her more access. She lapped at the base, tasting and feeling the throbbing heat of him come alive at her ministrations. Pulling him down more, she ran her tongue up the whole length of him. Enjoying the mix of flavors, she sought to

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grab it at the source. She inhaled his essence, soap and man, and let her nails trail over the skin of his ass, kneading the hard muscles as she opened her mouth. “Electra, baby,” he pulled himself away, “so good…so damn good.” She moaned as she sucked more of him in, taking in a quarter of the shaft before she let her tongue roam. “Mmm,” she purred, letting the vibrations from her throat envelop him and make him grunt in pleasure. They developed a rhythm, the movements synchronizing as they sought to give each other intimate pleasure. Faster and faster they moved, white hot flashes of desire flowing through them! Then something began to happen! Electra began to feel swamped with the feelings of need and hunger. He was in her mouth, and at the same time, she felt what it was like to be a man, drowning in heat! That, added to the liquid warmth flowing from her, almost made her scream! The feelings began to grow, become more intense. Soon she was fucking and being fucked, sucking and being sucked, loving, and being loved! She trembled, tears flowing from her eyes as she gave into the scream trapped in her throat, sending her tensions higher! It was him! Midas was projecting! This is what he must feel with her, this sense of penetrating and being penetrated! She shook, lifting her hips desperately as her control began to unravel! Midas was everything. He was something else, he was a part of her, and he was giving her so damn much! This was madness! She whimpered, rising with the waves of passion higher and higher until the tension within her snapped! She screamed as her body arched impossibly high and her thighs tightened around his head as she came. Midas forced himself to hold back, feeing her climb toward her peak! He was going to lose it, and he knew it! But when that happened he wanted to be inside of her! Growling, he pulled out of her mouth, away from that tantalizing heat and rose to his feet. Reaching out for the object of his affections, he spun her around again, and lifted her by the waist! She was boneless as a rag doll in the glow of her orgasm, body still sweating and shuddering as she felt herself lifted. Her arms instinctively went around his neck and he moved swiftly toward the bedroom. Once there, Midas gently placed her on the sun-drenched bed as he dug around the bedside table, finally coming up with a condom. Grinning, he tore the packet open and slid it over his length, shivering and moaning at any touch on his overly sensitive skin, as he rolled the condom in place. It barely fit. “Need you now!” he managed, standing there in his naked glory, his hair, flowing wildly about his shoulders, his face wet with her essence. Electra whimpered as she spread her legs and reached for him.

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She’d had release, but there was still her inner lust to be satisfied! Growling, Midas crawled up the bed, starting at her feet, slowly dragging his hair over her body, before moving to pull one hardened nipple into his mouth. There he paused, nursing at her nipples, nibbling, sucking, before he continued to travel, licking a path to her mouth and her ear. “Now?” he asked, and Electra whimpered, opening herself wide for his invasion. The head felt like a fist, she thought as he reached one hand down to position himself at her portal. Then he was rocking, circling, easing just the tip inside and she was moaning and arching up, wanting more. Gently but firmly, he pressed onward until, almost with an audible pop, the head fired its way through the tight opening of her body. They both hissed, and he paused, giving her a moment to get used to the feel of him sliding inside. But soon she was arching up, muttering, “More,” wrapping her legs around his waist! “More, Midas!” “Odin!” he growled, as he slid a few more inches into her. “My name is Odin!” Then she was hit again with a blast wave of passion and desire, wild longing and hunger…and need! It hit her so hard that a scream tore from her throat as her hair suddenly exploded in length and color, reverting to her original red and flowing down her shoulders. “Odin, Odin…oh God, Odin!” she muttered over and over, her head tossing on the bed as she was filled and filled and filled some more. “My God, Electra,” he breathed into her hear, nuzzling at her neck. “So tight, so hot, so damn good!” Then he pulled out a few inches, circling his hips, then sliding back in, all the way, filling her and forcing her eyes open. Slowly, he began, his thrust even and careful as she shuddered, whimpering and sweating. At the end of each full thrust, he ground his hips, stimulating her even as he filled her and caressed her walls from the inside. “More,” she whispered and he gave her more, increasing the speed and depth. Soon, he was thrusting hard, slamming into her and she was screaming, calling out his name, begging for more, then… “Odin!” She was flying, her mind off on a mystical journey, her body whirling through space and time as blots of pleasure shot through her, making her tremble, curling her toes, making her fingers tear at the skin of his shoulders. “Have you! Love you! Mine!” he bellowed. Never could he go back to being cold and emotionless! That was not an option! Electra, with her calm acceptance and her trust…she took that all away and he had never been happier! He loved her, his Electra, so strong and fierce, and tender by turns! Vulnerable and yet the most powerful woman he had ever known! And she had given herself to him.

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Shivering, he collapsed on top of her, immediately sliding to the side and pulling her into his arms. Breathing heavily, they lay in each other’s arms, lost in the feelings that they were sharing. “I felt that,” she finally breathed and Midas stiffened. Damn, the condom had broken! “Electra…Damn, I’m sorry, baby,” he breathed as he gently eased his still hard shaft from her softness, grimacing at the shredded latex pieces that once was a condom. “Don’t worry. I am clean and have a relatively low sperm count.” Electra chucked at his words and rolled her eyes. “I have an implant,” she purred, noting that he relaxed against her, pulling her tight into the sheltering heat of his body. Damn the man was big all over! “And I know you are clean. I do get your medical reports.” He chuckled at that, the sound of a lazy, sated lion. “I felt your emotions, Mi…Odin. I felt what you felt.” “Sorry.” He retreated, awaiting her reaction, bracing himself for the condemnation that would surely follow. “Why?” she breathed, a smile working its way into her voice. “I loved…it.”

*** Electra tingled. Her whole body was a mass of tingling, vibrating flesh from the force of Midas’ loving and the curse he used as a gift to bring her to the ultimate pinnacle of pleasure. Just for a moment, she cuddled close to him, inhaling his spicy scent, basking in the ultra-warmth of his body, and relishing the afterglow of the best sex she had ever experienced. She examined his face, calm in his sleep. He didn’t look innocent, like a little boy. He looked like exactly what he was, a slumbering warrior of a man. He looked dangerous even in his sleep. That alone warned her to be cautious. Sliding away from his heat, lest she be tempted to stay in his arms and forget the world, she rolled from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. Even if he woke up, that shouldn’t alarm him. No woman could be expected to sleep comfortably after what they had done, unless some small amount of cleansing occurred. The bathroom visit would be natural. As she moved, she winced at the soreness between her legs. Who knew he was packing so much meat in those tight pants he generally wore? But it was a good ache, a subtle reminder that she made the most controlled man she had ever met turn into a wild savage, dropping all of his carefully constructed

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façade to take what he wanted. Now it was time for her to take what she wanted. She damn near limped across the room to the small bathroom door and rested her head, just for a moment, against the cool wood. “Be strong!” she hissed at herself as she fought the urge to turn and crawl back into bed. “Be strong! You can do this.” It took everything she had inside of her to make her hands reach out, touch the cold metal of the doorknob, and twist it in her hand. The simple movement broke her heart – that motion she’d repeated dozens of times on any given day. It hurt, because she knew that this was her Rubicon – there was no going back after this. Taking a deep breath, she twisted the knob and walked through the doorway. Her feet connected with the cold tile – tile as cold as the grave, she mused. Once in the bathroom, she carefully went through the cabinets, looking for anything sharp. Mentally, she questioned her nanos. Was there any of the knockout drug used to bring down present in her system? Yes. How much? Twenty percent. Was it still viable or active? Yes. Could it be gathered and brought to the surface of her skin? Yes. Was it enough to knock out a man of Midas’ approximate weight and size? No. Damn! Could it be if she added…? She scanned the medicine cabinet, amazed at the large supply of medical equipment and supplies. When Midas said that this place was fully equipped, he wasn’t lying! There was just a bit of everything here from enemas to anti-venom in a snakebite kit. Pushing some bottles she recognized aside, and quite a few she didn’t, she came across an ampule of morphine. She grinned as she brought the small, plastic-coated glass container to eye level and gave it a quick shake. The expiration date was good and the container didn’t seem to be compromised any. It was almost too good to be true, and the effect would be temporary. If she added the morphine to the mix, would that work? Yes. Could it be dangerous?

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Maybe. Damn. She bit at her lip as she considered her alternatives, and she didn’t have many. What percentage of risk? 9.93 percent risk of respiratory distress, 1.5 percent risk of patient dropping into a coma. All small numbers. But still… Would Morphine work alone? No. The morphine in safe dosages would give her a temporary reprieve of about thirty minutes, and then he would be hot on her trail. And she knew that thirty minutes would not be enough to hide from a tenacious person like Midas. She needed more time, an hour or two, at least! Combined with the sedative in her system, would the morphine give her the time she needed? Approximately six hours. “Six hours,” she breathed. Enough time to get back to her people, check on this Darius Cain, and find the truth before Midas arrived to take her to his aforementioned friends. And she would go if, and only if, what he said was true. If he had lied, then he would face the full wrath of Electra and Medusa’s Hand. Firming her resolve, she ordered the drug into a filament. She closed her eyes against the sting as the small, silvery thread rose to the surface of her skin and began to force an exit. She broke open the ampule of morphine and ignored the slight burning as the filament emerged and pressed into the liquid drug. “Calculate dosage, using Midas’ weight and height,” she ordered, watching as the numbers flew across her left field of vision in a complex set of equations. Three milliliters was the final result. After drawing out the correct dosage, she replaced the bottle. “I had better be doing the right thing,” she whispered to herself, standing still for a moment, the potent sleep aid locked and loaded in a filament in her ring finger. Thoughts of Midas – angry, sad, understanding, in the heat of lust – flowed through her head. But this was something she was still bound and determined to do! “Nothing is going to keep me from discovering the truth on my own,” she finally murmured to herself as she grabbed a washcloth and turned the hot water spigot to high. Cleaning up a bit seemed like the thing to do, so she decided to handle that much while she gathered her thoughts and created her plan of action. “Damn me him and me,” she growled, as she reached for the soap and began to scrub herself clean. Washing off the reminders of their lovemaking made her guilt all the worse.

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Some small voice in the back of her head even wondered at the possibility of her implant failing, that she could be carrying Midas’ child right now. A small part of her quickened in delight, until her common sense took over. What kind of life could a merc give a child? And if she pulled this off, there was the very real possibility that Midas would never want to speak to her again! It was better for her thoughts not to shift in that direction – permanency, parenthood and a future – when she herself had no idea what her future would hold. She was startled out of her contemplation by the knock on the door. She had been in there too long. Midas had noticed her absence. “Electra? Are you okay?” The door muffled Midas’ voice, but worry was evident in his rich tones. He could feel her guilt and wondered if it had anything to do with his betrayal of her trust. Was she feeling that she was sleeping with the enemy? He could not have that. Not after what they experienced. Electra was the only woman for him, the be all, end all, forever. He would help her to see that, no matter what it took. When the door opened, he instantly reached in and drew her into his arms, offering her comfort and telling her by his actions that he would never leave her. “I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on as if he were the last steady thing in her whole existence. “Shh, I’ve got you now, baby. Everything is going to be okay.” He was so intent on surrounding her with feelings of comfort and love that he never felt the sharp prick in his neck…that is, not until it was too late. Lethargy instantly hit him in waves, along with a sense of determination and guilt and, surprisingly enough, love. He pulled back and stared into her wide, tear-filled eyes. There was so much regret there mingled with that annoying look of love that softened his heart toward her and her actions. He knew what she had done and still he loved her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, as his body staggered and his knees began to quake. “I’m so sorry.” She caught his body when it began to sway, urging him backwards toward the bed before his legs gave out completely. Then he was aware of falling into the warm embrace of the tangled sheets, sheets that still held the scent of their lovemaking, of the passionate act that somehow seemed all the more distant as he landed flat on his back. He watched through eyes shutting in fatigue as her beautiful face filled his field of vision. Her tears landed almost scalding on his face and her soft, swollen lips placed a kiss on his slack mouth.

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“I’ll be back. I have to be sure,” she whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes, raining down on him before his eyes closed and blackness swept him away. “I love you.” It was whispered so softly that he wasn’t even sure of what he heard. Her words, like their distant lovemaking, were all some sort of distorted dream, carrying him away to the land of Nod.

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Chapter 15

A Humvee was not the most discreet method of transportation, Electra decided as she stopped the vehicle a few miles from the strip mall that signaled the outer boundaries of Medusa’s Hand. It could be that she was just in a pissy mood. Snorting, she turned off the radio broadcast as some overpaid, cheesysounding announcer droned on about recent news. Something about the President and some dignitaries meeting at a ball game! What the fuck, she thought. She glared at the dashboard as if it were the cause of all her problems. We spend all this time trying to protect his worthless ass and he is out playing games like a child! Didn’t he know that there was an internal war going on, that the tangos had landed and that they were not taking any hostages? Growling, she ripped the keys from the ignition and contemplated her next move. Thank God that Midas gassed up the thing before they moved and that it had double gas tanks. Otherwise, she would have been walking or trying to pump gas barefoot like some uncouth, country child. Midas’ shoes had been too big and bulky for her to manage, so she took only the clothing she was wearing now – a pair of ill-fitting, black sweat pants held up with a black belt and an oversized red Tshirt. She supposed that he used the items for sleeping, because she could find no others in his bag. Then she sighed, shoulders dropping, as she thought of the mysterious man, the man known as Odin Rothwell. She had left him alone and unconscious, probably for hours if her calculations were right. Loathe to leave him cut off from all communication in case of an emergency, she only destroyed the GPS tracking device, though she already knew that he would track and follow her here just as soon as he woke up. She left Midas his phones, just in case he needed to get in contact with his friends, and she left the weird, earpiece gizmo that he had. Electra’s number one rule for survival was if she didn’t understand it, she left it alone. On more than one occasion, it had saved her life. Being able to interface with any computer on the face of the earth was well and fine, but if you didn’t know what the thing was, it was just plain dangerous. She could crack computers and read code, but that didn’t mean she understood all that she had. Like that file she still carried around with her, Gold. But then, maybe she would get some answers for that little question while she was here at her base of operations. In a few hours, Midas would find her. Maybe that would buy her enough time to sneak in and see what was going on with her people and to ferret out some truths. She just prayed all would go according to her plan.

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Grunting, she climbed out of the cab and began to camouflage the Humvee with some fallen brush, trying her best to blend it in with the surrounding forest before taking a back way in. Damn, she hated hiking! It gave her more than enough time to think, and her thoughts were already chaotic enough, seeing conspiracies and black plots around every corner! Forcing her mind to concentrate on her main objective of making it back to the base, she trod onwards through the damp grass and over broken twigs and sticks. After several miles of hiking in her bare feet, she came to the place where she knew early warning systems were set up. The DEWS, their first line of defense, were placed in several secret locations, and not even the members of Medusa’s Hand knew where all of them were. But she did. She helped plant them all and coordinated with Midas about the personnel who would place them. But after spotting a few of the DEWS, she didn’t know whether to be grateful or pissed. The leader and her number one had disappeared and it appeared that Medusa’s Hand was still in the same position with no tactical changes made! That could mean many things, and all of them she did not like. Once Midas had gone missing, the order to scramble should have been given, this mobile camp dismantled, and her people safely spread out over all four corners of the earth. Yet…they were still here. That was good, because she wouldn’t have to track them and bad because it left a whole lot of new unknowns in her equations. The second idea, one she didn’t like all too well either, was that they knew she was coming and had laid a trap. They were good hunters. She and Midas had personally trained them. Either way, she was good and screwed! She was still contemplating her troop’s movements, or lack of movements, and the best way to approach when a noise to her left made her jerk and turn. Training and gut instinct made her spin to her feet and dodge to her right, just in time. A body came hurtling out of the woods, straight at her! What the fuck?! She turned to engage the enemy, growling low in her throat. But she paused, eyes widening in shock as she recognized one of her own men. “Pat?” She gasped, stunned that one of her own was attacking her, when she felt a jolt that knocked her off her feet! A hard body tackled her, getting the best of her from the rear. Foolish, she thought as strong arms wrapped around her, not to check behind her. But it was too late for hindsight, she decided as her face plowed hard into the packed dirt, way too late. She felt her hands roughly pulled up behind her back before her captors rolled her over. Pat and Jon. She narrowed her eyes at them as she spit out a clod of dirt, thankful that she tasted no blood in the mud that filled her mouth. What was going on? Her own men were treating her as if she were a…

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“Traitor!” Jon snarled as he unholstered and leveled a nine-millimeter Glock at her forehead. The nine-millimeter was his weapon of choice and now Electra was getting a very up-close and personal view of it. She decided that she hated the cheap piece of crap even more. “I am a traitor soldier? When you have your weapon pointed at my head, the head of your commander?” She was glad that her voice came out strong and sure, anything but what she was feeling inside where knots twisted and butterflies frolicked. “Where is Midas?” And why would they be asking her that? “You tell me,” she countered, remembering that Jon liked to talk and brag, and that Pat was the more quiet of the two. “Who did you bring with you? Is it those GSS bastards? Are they following you? Are you trying to open the way for them? Playing a little game of Troy?” He sneered in her face, his lips pulled back to show his molars. In her mind’s eye, he looked like a rabid dog about to attack. He had better remember that she always attacked first and was generally the only one to walk away. “Are you wearing a wire?” “Will you stop talking like a bad Jean Claude Van Damme flick and get these restraints off of me?” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “I have no idea what you are talking about!” Her eyes flashed coldly as she stared up at her subordinates who dared to put her in such a defensive position. “How many are coming? How much did it take for you to sell out?” Sell out? The strange thing was that he was absolutely serious! “What the hell are you going on about, Jon?” “Brainwashing.” All eyes turned to the quieter second soldier, Pat, as those soft words passed his lips. “What?” Their voices echoed through the forest, scaring away what wildlife was left after their little scuffle on the ground. “Darius Cain said that she would be brainwashed,” Pat added, as he stared down at his former leader, compassion in his eyes. “She probably doesn’t even know that she is betraying us.” Her eyes widened at that name. Darius Cain. Damn that man! Midas had warned her about him! That brought her thoughts full circle back to Midas again. Had he been right all along? This was no mistake? Time to fish for some more information.

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“Who?” she gasped, allowing some of the shock to show in her voice, hoping that these two had been around her enough to pick up on it. “Darius Cain. Agamemnon sent him.” At those words, something in her snapped and died. It was true. It was all true. Midas had not been mistaken. She had become an exclusive and dangerous tool for her enemy. “Agamemnon?” She blinked owlishly even as her mind threw out several plans and discarded them just as fast. Killing these two would not get her any closer to the inside of the base and her bank of computers. Taking them hostage would do no good because she had trained them to die before being used against Medusa’s Hand. There seemed to be only one way to put her plans into action. She’d found a way to get inside and these two were going to take her right to the master, so to speak. “Let’s take her to Darius,” Pat added. “Maybe he can break through whatever walls they put up inside her.” “And then kill her,” Jon growled, his hands shaking as he stared down at Electra. Where the hell had she gotten this guy? She made a mental note to thoroughly screen her members more carefully. This bastard was just a little too blood thirsty for her comfort. “As soon as she tells us where that bastard of a traitor Midas is hiding. Never trusted that SOB,” Jon groused as he smirked at Electra. Jon had always been one to buck authority, though he was a competent soldier. Electra decided that when this was all straightened out, she was going to cap him in the ass for disrespect, and then maybe blow off a toe as well. A man could still function in their business with those permanent injuries, and the asshole was asking, no, begging for it. But for now, she bided her time as they jerked her to her feet. “You could at least tie my hands in front of me,” she complained. “It is hard to balance like this.” “Shut up!” Jon snapped, turning and backhanding her with a swiftness she didn’t expect. It stunned her for a moment as she toppled back into Pat’s hands, shaking her head and trying to clear out the ringing sound. “Don’t do that!” Pat hissed as he assisted Electra into a standing position, looking her over to see if Jon drew any blood. “Jon,” Electra called out as she regained her equilibrium and the sting in her cheek became a dull throb. “Jon.” He turned to stare at her, the arrogance pouring from him was almost palatable. “When this is over, I was only going to shoot you in the ass or cut off your toe, because it is not your fault that you are this stupid. But just for that, I am going to have to cut higher, man. A lot higher, if you know what I mean.”

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Jon froze, paling as some of his cockiness subsided. He knew that Electra never made idle threats, only promises that she damn well kept. As a result, it was a very quiet trip back to base camp. She was going to meet Darius Cain face to face again, assure herself that he was one and the same, and then she was going to clean out her house. Spring cleaning was well overdue and she was just itching to take out the trash.

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Chapter 16

Odin Rothwell groaned and wondered silently what he had to drink that would give him this bad of a hangover. Slowly, he came to the realization that he never drank, especially when he was on duty. It dulled his control over his senses and that could not be allowed, lest he accidentally injure somebody. So he tried to peel open his bloodshot eyes and hopefully catch a glimpse of the tractor-trailer that ran him over. Only the empty room blared back at him, taunting him and making the pounding in his head seem all the worse. Empty? Where was Electra? Had someone found them and… He groaned as memories began to flood his drug-addled mind. The sharp prick on his neck. And then the spinning room and the tears, not his, trailing down his face. Electra, looking lost and alone, tears flowing down her face. Such pain she exuded, such mental and emotional anguish. Pain, loss, and regret he recalled. And then there was an overwhelming sense of remorse, mixed in with a lot of love. Electra had done this to him. His Electra had done this to him! Anger threatened to overwhelm all of his senses as he struggled to make the room stop spinning and make some sense of this whole affair. There was only one logical conclusion. Electra had done this to him after she’d promised to wait, and then she escaped. No, he thought, as his anger started to abate. She never promised to wait. Odin cursed himself for a fool several times over as he struggled to rise up and regain his feet. Of course, Electra would pull a stunt like this. He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten her nature in the rush of sex and emotion. His Electra would not give up – she would go back and confirm everything that he told her. He should have known. After all, for over a year, he had studied this woman. He knew what made her tick and he knew what would tug at her strings. He had to smile at the way she pulled this one over on him. Was he angry? Not really. He was kind of disappointed that she did not let him in on her plans, but he couldn’t blame her. In her place – scared, confused, and finding it so hard to trust – he would have done the same thing. Did he feel that she used him and his affection for her to pull off this Honey Trap? No, though, indeed, it was the sweetest baited trap he had ever fallen into.

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Odin was good at reading emotions, he had been doing it all of his life, and he was never wrong. Electra loved him and loved him something fierce. But she had to discover the truth on her own. It was the nature of his woman. She probably felt that she was protecting him. He snorted as he finally managed to rise to his feet and began to hunt around for his clothing. He was going to go and get his Electra, and then he was going to tan that delectable hide before he pounded it into any nearby mattress or flat surface. He didn’t even have to think about where she was going. She would head back for Medusa’s Hand and try to discover what was going on there. Then all amusement fled as he recalled who was now trying to obtain control of their group. Darius Cain was in all probability already there, as neither he nor Electra was there to direct. And if Cain was there, then Electra was in serious trouble. He looked around, spotting his open duffle, and realized that she at least had enough sense to wear some decent clothing, though he had to chuckle at the picture of her wearing his oversized sweat pants and shirt. She was indeed such a cute little bundle of contradictions. Then his face froze into a mask of anger and determination as he walked through the empty cabin and picked up articles of clothing still strewn around the room. He made his way back to the bedroom and re-stuffed his small duffle, noticing that his douche kit was still there, and that only a few articles of clothing were missing. She had left his buffer and all of his communication devices. He fought back a chuckle at the thought of the petite Electra running around in his overly large clothing trying to speak into an earpiece that was designed to lessen psionic patterns and made his way to the shower. He was going to move, but first he had to remove the scent of her, of their lovemaking, from his body. It was too distracting for him and it might sing to him at the wrong time. That and he wanted to wash the lethargy from his body. A hot shower was good for that. And after the shower, he would head out on foot. Electra had more than likely taken the truck or disabled it. And if she was moving in the rush that he knew she would be moving in, the truck was her best bet, which meant that he had a long walk ahead. Mentally, he ran over his plans as he turned the shower on, as hot as he could stand it. First, he would infiltrate Medusa’s Hand. She had several hours on him and he knew that she would already be there. Next, search and rescue. While he didn’t want to harm any of his people, he would kill any who got in the way of him and his Electra, even if it meant taking out his own men. Once he retrieved Electra, he would search for the blasted file that he now cursed himself for giving to her, and hoped that it would provide some answers to end this inane quest he was on. Then he would take Electra to Mythos to end this shit once and for all.

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After that, he and Electra would go off somewhere and try to find their happily ever after, preferably a hot, sweaty one with her screaming out his name as she arched up beneath him, or better yet, on top of him. They both more than deserved it. But first, he had to finish this shower and get to Electra. As soon as his erection abated. Erection? Damn! He looked down and saw that his body really loved that happily-ever-after image. The picture of a naked Electra was still fresh in his thoughts and at the moment had taken control. He reached out to turn the water to cold, full blast. In his mind, he could still taste her, feel her, and see her reaching out for him, needing him. It spurred him to move faster, gather his scattered wits and continue as planned. Mind set, he began to mentally build up his walls again, the walls that she so easily tore down. He began to prepare himself for the battles ahead. He knew that they would not be pretty and it would not be an easy task, but then, when in his life had anything ever been easy? But now, he had an even greater purpose, an even greater goal. Electra. She was his goal, his whole reason for being. And he would do whatever had to be done to protect her, to bring her back where she belonged – in his arms, of course. It was fated that they should be together. It was written in the stars. And that was good enough for him.

***

Electra bucked in the wood chair that supported her small frame, twisting at the plastic bindings that held her arms fastened securely to the padded armrests. The damn wood felt ice cold against her skin, another feeling she couldn’t stand. And even worse, she was stripped down to her underwear, again. Thankfully, it was hers, she thought, blessing Midas for washing out her unmentionables, as it would have looked really weird if she were wearing a pair of his dark-colored boxer-briefs. Ankles strapped to the front legs and arms to the arm supports, she was plainly annoyed to find herself in this predicament and even more annoyed at the two who put her there. After fastening her in this ignoble position, Pat and Jon fled just as soon as she was stripped and secured. She was almost tittering in anticipation to meet the creature who had brought her to such a low. Not. Darius Cain would hear, see, and feel her wrath! What she saw when she was brought into the compound…it sickened her. Her troops had turned on her so easily and rolled over for the man. Maybe she couldn’t blame them. It was the nature of a mercenary to trust no one, including themselves, one hundred percent, but the total alienation she experienced was almost painful. And instead of breaking camp and moving to another location, even

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though they believed that they had been subverted, they were still sitting here, waiting for orders from Agamemnon, almost like cows being led to the slaughter. The trek through the main grounds to her office was like a nightmare. Men, her men, sat watching, some doing their roster of duties, some relaxing, but all held not one ounce of suspicion. The trucks were all in the same spot, the dogs were all in their kennels, and everything looked so damn normal! That is, until she was dragged into her office and stripped of her clothing. Now she was awaiting the appearance of the butcher. She sighed as he looked around her inner office, with its two huge computer stations and her files strewn all over the floors and on the desk. Midas would have a fit to see it thus, and she was hard-pressed not to start screaming in outrage as well. One computer, the one she deemed for general use, lay awakened and ready to spill out information at the touch of a button. Not that they would get more than financial records, lists of her people, and records of daily activities she needed to keep track of to keep her group afloat. But the other computer that only she or Midas could activate stared back, monitor black with its dancing line of cute, cartoon deer being used as target practice. Mercs tended to have sick and often dark senses of humor and she and Midas were no different. If someone tried to activate her main computer, but they would never get further than that screen unless she allowed it. And if they managed to get past the encryption for the ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ screen, as she called it, the computer would shut down and self-destruct. She may not understand all the hardware she carried, but she did know that she could activate miracles with a thought. There would be no way they could hack in to her system, unless Midas helped them. Or if they coerced her into doing it for them. Fat chance of that happening. As she waited and looked around her trashed room, another thought came to her. Gold. That damnable file! She still had that blasted file stored in her brain! What the hell was on it anyway? It was important enough for Midas to send her after it, even if it was a decoy to get her out of the way or into a safe position. He would never send her off on a useless pursuit, even if he thought he was protecting her. Whoever had that file encrypted knew what they were doing with all of its computer safeguards and human spies. Why was it so important? “Access file, Gold,” she whispered, conscious of her position, but needing to have some quick answers while her mind was on it. Besides, it was better than just sitting there and it may give her some leverage in dealing with Cain. Once again, her vision was superimposed with a streaming flow of information in her left field of vision, mostly biochemical equations she could not decipher. Biochemistry had never been her strong

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point so she had to rely on her stored data to put together some of the information. Fascinating, she decided, as she tried to look casual, fearing someone would walk in on her and learn her secrets. There seemed to be two main components in the equations, a gaseous carrier compound and what appeared to be a contagious chemical agent. Okay, that much she was understood. But why these two compounds and what were they going to be used for? She kept searching, picking out key words and skimming the information, cross-referencing key words, and generally searching for a clue. Then she came across something that made her gasp in shock and brought her whole search and seize mission to a grinding halt. Nanocyte technology! Those bastards had gotten their hands on some nanocyte technology! Were they planning on creating an army of soldiers like her, an unstoppable force? Or were they planning on infecting someone to force them to do their bidding? Even worse! Mind control? The applications for nanocyte technology were endless! It was staggering what havoc a little, and she meant little, bit of technology in the wrong hands could cause. Knowing what she did about them, even without fully understanding her small companions…if they had knowledgeable people and a means to apply that knowledge… She paled in fright! They could take over the world…or end it! Quickly scanning the file for additional information, she relaxed a bit when more data flashed in her sights. This was not the advanced alien technology that she carried within her, this was earth’s equivalent after years of research and development. And it needed Gold to work properly. Her eyes widened in amazement as she continued deciphering and began to understand what her eyes were telling her brain. These were plans that would enable someone to sneak a chemical or biological weapon past the astute noses of the Weapons of Mass Destruction Civil Support Team! Two components! Two biochemical compounds…both rendered unidentifiable! The gaseous compound, apparently stored in ventilation systems, would show up in scans as residual traces of a simple cleaning solution. The release of this compound with the contagious agent listed in those ‘harmless’ equations she just deciphered would be swift and unnoticed. The components would be released into a large gathering, infecting all living beings that breathed it in. The kinetic energy and heat of all those packed bodies would spread it thoroughly! The GSS would be able to trigger the reaction whenever they chose! She almost passed out as a sickening wave of heat shot from the top of her head down her spine. She didn’t need to think about this sensation taking over her body, it was something she hadn’t really felt in years. It was cold, hard fear! All of those people would go home, unaware of what they had been exposed to. Then they would breathe on their family and neighbors, hell, strangers on the street! The air-borne virus would be passed

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on. Mothers infecting fathers, siblings infecting siblings. How many people would those people meet, greet, come in some kind of contact with, or share air with in the course of one day? People at their jobs, speaking to their co-workers, children greeting their teachers and playmates, hospital workers, flight attendants, people on the bus, people on the streets, people leaving the country, going back to their foreign homes and places of work! There was no end to the level of contamination that would occur! Millions…millions would be infected. Millions upon millions of innocent souls, and then millions more! In a matter of hours, days… She stopped doing the mental calculations because it was too extreme for her to take in. They would…the whole fucking would…would…come to an end! She was too frightened to cry, snap out of it, or try and pull herself together. Gold. The project was called Gold because that is what the GSS needed to use with their newest nanocyte technology to identify the virus and administer the antidote as they saw fit. Apparently, the government had developed a weapon against bio-terrorism, a detector that could run the fumes of any unknown biochemical agents through a solution teeming with a specific type of nanocytes and gold particles. The gold would fuse to the composition making it easy for the nanocytes to detect and identify the substance using color coding. Red for Ebola, green for Anthrax, yellow for radiation… This shit they were using would not cause the nanocyte mixture to react at all. It would give the all-clear sign and the gathering would continue, unaware that they were inviting their own destruction. All would be affected as planned! Their way into power would be virtually undetected! No one would suspect until millions began to flood the hospitals with flu like symptoms. They would consider it a bad epidemic, until the flesh began to drip from their bones. Then they would race to find a common denominator between all of these people, and while they traced it back to the source, more and more would become ill. People would drop dead in the streets!

The panic, the hysteria, and the anger would cause civil unrest, forcing the

government to put the country in a state of marshal law. There would be pleas for help from other countries facing the same devastation, but how could we help others when we have no technology to help ourselves? Then, when everything seemed the most hopeless, when the top GSS figures not supporting them had died off, the people Darius worked for would step in and make their demands. And a beaten, afraid, and defeated people would give in to them – anything to stop the growing horror around them. They

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would control it all and any undesirables would be left to rot. It was perfect, their plan, the strategy, and the means in which they would carry it out… Gold! As good as gold, or the road paved in gold, for them. That is what the file was. It was the plan to effortlessly end all life as they knew it then reshape it into their own twisted image! This was a blueprint for destruction! And she had carried it with her, inside her computerized brain, all along. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting?” The sound of that voice sent shivers up her spine even as she straightened from her slouched over position, never even realizing that her fingertips had scored deep indentations in the wood. It was Darius Cain and he was smiling. “Fucker,” she gasped, still pale, her body breaking out into a cold sweat at what she had learned, unable to do anything else. “I am so glad to see that I’ve caused such a reaction in you, Electra,” Darius purred. “I thought I would find myself disappointed, but I am growing more content with you by the minute. The former leader of Medusa’s Hand should be more fearless.” “What do you want?” She spat the words at him like they were a weapon that could do him harm. More’s the pity that they could not. On his knees and bleeding is where she would most like to see him. “World domination.” She gaped at his answer. Of all the things he could be striving for! “What? You thought I was going to pull one of those James Bond type of question and answer sessions?” Darius chuckled, running his fingers along the lapel of his suit coat. “Maybe I could strap you to a table, turn on my laser and torture you with approaching death, thereby giving you a convenient opportunity to escape?” He threw back his head and laughed, as if he had made the world’s funniest joke. “Dear girl, you have been reading too many spy novels. And for someone in your profession, that is a big mistake. You may start believing the propaganda. Fact of the matter is, as soon as I get out of you want I want, I am going to put three slugs in your brain. Sound fair?”

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Chapter 17

The alert was high. That was to be expected. But still, it was easy to overcome. That was a disappointment. The first thing he did was search out the hidden DEWS that he helped install. It was frightening that no one had changed their positioning. That was the first thing he would have done. He made a note to retrain the sentries and all of the computer techs. Michael was usually better that this. Maybe the man was slipping…or had he been caught? He didn’t even want to contemplate that. Midas snipped the wires connecting the first of the DEW’s to their silent alarm and left the way clear for him to pass the outer barriers. It had been hours since he made his way out of the cabin in Pennsylvania. He stole three different cars, hid them, and stole a truck. After he ditched the truck on a service road, he then hiked further than he cared to get this far. Now it was approaching the hour of midnight and the only things he wanted were a bath, a hot meal, and his lady in bed with him, preferably underneath him moaning his name as he slammed home, repeatedly. But in order to get all of that – the bath, the food, and the lady screaming in ecstasy – he had to get inside the small mobile command unit where Electra had to be hiding…or if at the very worst, where she had been taken. He moved through the trees, as dark and quiet as a shadow, when a distant sound had him scaling a tree like a cat, quick and efficient and, above all, silent. He was a dark shadow in the night, observant, but unnoticed, as he took up his lofty position. As he watched, he keyed up the negative emotions and the fear, tapping the device in his ear to allow a bit of fear to leak out and surround his position like a cloak. He kept enough of the fear held in check so he could get the impression of the person who was almost underneath his hiding spot in the tree. Then he blinked as he was slammed with impressions of what the man was feeling, almost what he was thinking. Gloating. He was gloating and smug, some great feeling of satisfaction flowing through him. But there was also weariness and some fear of…of something. Anger. There was a lot of anger, too. Something wasn’t right. Compassion. There was compassion in waves and a feeling of dismay. The man stopped his stomping through the trees and picked a good one for a leak. As he did, more of the anger flashed out, almost enough to make Midas gasp. Then the man looked up to the heavens, as if to ask why, and Midas instantly knew who this man was.

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Michael. A very unhappy and angry Michael gazed up into the stars. His pale face seemed all the more ashen as it twisted into a visage of anger, his forehead knotting and his nostrils flaring. With truncated motions, he ripped down his zipper and began to urinate. “Damn you, Cain,” he muttered, as he finished forcing out his stream and shook himself off before zipping back up. Turning, he looked around, then headed for a hidden DEW. Midas watched in interest as Michael quickly and efficiently disabled the device and tucked it back into hiding. Odd. His curious actions and whispered words stopped Midas from hopping out of the tree and putting him permanently out of commission. He had to act now and it looked like Michael had given him the means. It seemed that he still had an ally. “Something bothers you, Michael?” Michael jumped at the sound of that cold, impersonal voice, but he had never been happier to hear the dangerous sound in his life. “Midas!” he gasped, looking around trying to find him. “Midas, man! Where the hell are you?” “Something troubles you.” “Um, yeah,” Michael said, still looking around, weariness in every move. Where the hell was his voice coming from? It seemed to echo all around, ringing with…something that made him want to answer as truthfully as possible. “We seem to have been infested.” “Infested?” Interesting, Midas thought. “So you don’t say?” “Yeah. Damn vermin all over the place, doing things that they should not be doing, causing trouble. And you know how the mistress feels about infestations.” Michael could read between the lines and he wasted no time in answering Midas. It appeared his loyalty was still with Midas and Electra. “So why not move?” Michael thought for a minute. Midas understood his hesitancy. One never knew who was listening in and though his actions were more than likely not observed, that didn’t mean that there weren’t additional listening devices planted around. “The owner of the house is not doing…well.” “Is she afraid of the vermin?” Midas asked, feeling the anger and frustration rolling off Michael in more powerful waves than before. Amidst those emotions, Midas also sensed Michael’s helplessness and despair. “Not these particular vermin, but the leader of the nest has her all tied up in knots. It is not pleasant to observe and the usual houseguests are not aware that this particular vermin is…diseased.”

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Midas tried to hold back his growl of anger and barely managed it. Cain had Electra. He had her and he was torturing her. The men who had so blindly followed Electra in her fight to do what was right seemed to have turned their backs on her, following the example she set by listening to Agamemnon.

No, not all of them, he reasoned.

Michael said the usual

houseguests. “And the special visitors?” “Well, they are awaiting proper instructions, of course,” Michael was proud to report. Where Michael went, The Unit followed. “They wanted to wait for a specialist to come in and give some direction without upsetting the rest of the household. Hard being a special guest when it is so easy to become unwelcome. But they are in readiness to act. They just need the good word.” Then by all means, Midas thought, it is time to start this party. “Word.” There was such intensity in the word that Michael’s face registered fear briefly before battle lust began to heat his blood. “Word is born.” Michael turned and carefully made his way back through the trees, following a route that only he knew. Now, confidence poured off him in waves. With every step, confidence, defiance, and something he hadn’t felt in a long time – hope – filled him to overflowing. There was even a smile on his face! Why not smile? The fun was about to start! The party had begun.

***

“What was that?” Darius smirked as he leaned in closer to Electra, ignoring the electrodes and wires placed over her chest, legs and arms. Finally, he thought, the stubborn bitch was ready to let something spill. Once again strapped to a chair, Electra was not having a good day. The electrodes attached to her skin over certain painful nerve endings only served to make it worse. Still, she vibrated with the effects of that last jolt. Her nanos raced to repair the damage the electricity cased to her neural pathways, but they did nothing to assuage the pain. “I said,” she rasped through her painful throat, licking her dry lips as sweat poured off her in buckets, “I hope I don’t piss my pants again. No drains in my office.” “You are so unbelievably charming,” Darius’ voice was droll, but he took his hand off the button that would send fifteen thousand volts of electricity throughout her body. Annoyed, he rose to his full height and stared at the stubborn twit. “And so unbelievably cute. Why don’t you just tell me a few

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things, Electra? I want to know how you managed to get away from my highly trained people. I am assuming that it was gross incompetence on the part of our good doctor and his hired goon. I am sure they let you get away by underestimating you. But I would never do that. I have gathered much info on you, my dear, so this is just an exercise in curiosity. I’ll get to the more serious questions later, if you have no objections?” Electra looked up at him, waiting, and grinned a bit through her pain. If she had no objections, indeed! Electricity had done nothing to harm her little friends so the nerve damage that occurred was already healing. She could afford to buy some more time while they did their work. She needed full brain capabilities and besides, taunting Mr. Perfect Hair was fun, despite the price she willingly paid. “Okay,” she panted. “Your hired goon had an incurable sweet tooth. He wanted a taste, so I gave him one.” She even managed a grin at that. Darius was not as easily amused. “And the good doctor?” That perfect eyebrow arched again. “He watched and his heart couldn’t take it.” “Hmm, yes. It must have been something for him, a man with no negative medical history at all, to have a massive mayo cardio infarction.” “Some people aren’t cut out to be voyeurs.” “And a cerebral hemorrhage? Severe aneurysm? Rupture of the meninges and lining…” “Need…better…exams.” “Indeed.” Cain snorted, a smirk plastered on his face, as he stared down at the dangerous sweating woman. She was a stubborn one. “Next question?” she prompted, hoping to get this over with and that Midas had found a way to get to her. She also hoped that Darius would leave her with an opening that she could find some way of attacking. “Access to this computer. I want to know all that you know, all that you are, and believe me, I have a wonderful idea of what you are capable of.” “People telling tales out of school?” she asked. “Besides, your query wasn’t in the form of a question.” She rested against the strength of the ropes binding her to that wood and metal chair, letting her body heal while her mind worked a mile a minute. She had to get out and warn someone what this nutcase was about to do! But who do you go to with information like this? Who would believe you? And then there was the ever popular where and when. She needed more information. Maybe Darius would spill a bit, though she doubted it. Damn Agamemnon!

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“Not just people, dear. Dear old Daddy is more than just any person.” “You have a father? Funny, I thought all snakes hatched from eggs.” She lifted her head a bit more. Was he going to let something slip? “Amusing,” he chuckled. “I have to remember that one for my memoirs. I was talking about your father, dear girl.” “My father?” She blinked as she stared up at the man, surprise clearly on her face. “I haven’t seen hide nor hair of the man for over ten years.” He had her attention. “Yes, but he has kept tabs on you.” That thought sent fear zinging down her spine. “No way,” she denied as she shook her head. “He thinks I’m dead. He wants me dead.” “No, he didn’t want you to be a disappointment, which you apparently were, until something came up that made you rather useful, that is. But he has had so much fun assisting in your education.” “He had nothing to do with it!” Her heart began to pound as his words started some twisted conspiracy theory in her head, not that her life hadn’t become one anyway. “He gave me up as lost years ago!” “Not directly, no.” Then Darius dropped a bombshell of his own. “We can thank Wraith for that.” “Wraith?” Another betrayal? No! “Yes, and he did a good job hiding you, too. Until he came and made demands of Agamemnon.” “Aga…” “Why, your father, dearest. He is Agamemnon. And Medusa’s Hand was a way for him to do his dirty work without getting his hands dirty, so to speak. Need the competition taken out, call Medusa’s Hand. Need some, let’s just say, sensitive information, call Medusa’s Hand. Need to be rid of pesky daughters…call…well, you know.” “No!” Electra screamed, her eyes wide with shock. “No! It isn’t true!” Wraith? Her Wraith knew all along? He had trained her and taught her and…used her body while all along knowing…? “Yes, dear, I am afraid it is.” God, he enjoyed his work. “And your precious little Wraith was in on it with us. That was, until the little shit got greedy and demanded more than his fair share. As if we would actually give him leadership duties after he tried to blackmail us with you. So you see, even while he was plunging into that delectable little body of yours, he was always in our hip pockets. You have such bad luck at love.”

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Smiling, Darius stepped away from the battered woman, whose system just received another shock, and planted himself firmly in her chair directly in front of her desk. He smiled as if he hadn’t just ripped her whole world asunder. Electra’s mind whirled! Midas was right! Her whole life had been a lie! She thought she had escaped from the devil when she found herself taken in by Wraith. But now she discovered that she had fallen into a particular brand of hell, a hell of her father’s creation. Even from the grave of her mind’s darkest memories, that man had reached out and graced her with his malevolent touch. “And soon, it won’t matter.” Darius gloated, bringing her eyes back up to his. “I’m not sure if you read the file before you downloaded it to this master computer, but you will give me the access codes so that I can retrieve my property. And then you will die.” She blinked and then stared at the man. Had he just given her an in? Pushing her own emotions aside to deal with later, she began to pay attention to what he was saying. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” Her words were wooden, as if she was on the verge of going into shock, but her mind was as sharp as ever. “Don’t lie to me, Electra.” Darius’ eyes narrowed in anger. “I know that the file was not found on your person and there is no place that we haven’t looked for it. I know that it is not hidden in this building anywhere, so it leads me to believe that you have some satellite link-up to this computer where you initiated an active download feed from the source. And from what I see of this computer, it is entirely possible.” “Gold?” “Yes, dear, Gold. I need to wipe every trace of it from your computer. Agamemnon, or should I say, Daddy, doesn’t take too well to people playing around in his things and he hates to leave fragments behind.” “Fragments?” Sighing, Darius glared at her, a bit balefully, but it was still a glare. “I am breaking my own code by doing this, but Gold is the plan that will bring about purification, dear. Well, one of them anyway.” Before he could continue, there was a beep at the intercom and he cursed when he saw that he had a call waiting. Rubbing his hands over his forehead and temples, his only show of stress, he picked up the handset and growled into it. “What?”

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Electra took this time to assimilate what he was adding to her store of knowledge, finding it an uphill battle. She understood that Gold would kill the world and that her father was behind it for some reason. This still didn’t give her why or where. Then Cain’s angered words caught her attention. “Would it help if I pointed and called my destination? Then could you conceivably get me a flight plan and schedule I can deal with that will get me there in less than two hours?” Electra’s mind went into overdrive. Flight meant that wherever he was going, it was a place not easily accessible by car from the DELMARVA Peninsula, where Medusa’s Hand was located. So he must be flying somewhere nearby. She wondered if he planned to fly to safety or toward the scene of the crime that had yet to take place. She watched him shouting into the phone in frustration and realized that he was the type that preferred hands on. When he had her in this position before he’d said that he would rather torture her himself. And he was having fun with it now; her healing burns attested to that. He was here, at the headquarters of Medusa’s Hand, instead of trusting someone else to handle this part of his operation. He was not one to delegate, but in fact was a hands-on kind of guy and seemed to enjoy doing the dirty work. He would see the plans come to their fruition with his own eyes. But where? That question remained to be answered. He said something about pointing and calling. The only person to do that and make those gestures famous was The Babe. She had never been a fan of that overweight, alcoholic racist, but she did recall that he was born in Baltimore, Maryland, which was easily accessible by car and therefore a no go. She remembered that he played in New York, and it would only take a thirty minute flight to get there. Then she also recalled that The Babe had called a shot like that that in Chicago, at Wrigley Field to be exact. She tried to stifle her excitement as the plan began to come together in her head. Two hour flight to Chicago? Oh, entirely possible! The stadium as a place to distribute this poison? Perfect location. And wasn’t there some hoopla about the President, foreign ministers and dignitaries going to a game…today? She tried to remember what was mentioned on the radio and shivered as she recalled what the announcer had said. Damn! They had the perfect biological weapon, the perfect undetectable means to distribute it to millions of people in and around this country – hell, the world – and access to the heads of state. Perfect! Except for the fragment, as he called it – the file that she had downloaded in her head instead of her computer. She knew that that file would still lead right back to her father, Cain, and GSS. And she was the only person with access codes. Only, they were not in any computer. They were in her head. A small smile swept across her face as she realized that she had a bargaining chip. She was not out of the game just yet. Although, she still had to get the information out to someone who could stop these madmen.

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Where the hell was Midas when you needed him? She was drawn out of her revelation by Darius placing the phone back in the cradle, his slow motions giving away his anger more so than any slamming or ranting could have. “Good help,” he motioned to the phone. “So cliché, but alas, so true,” he sighed as he turned his attention back to Electra. “Where was I? Oh, yes. I was going to tell you of the plan, but now I don’t have time. You see, I have to be on a plane before morning and I no longer have time to, how do you commando types phrase it? Ah, yes. Bullshit with you, any longer. Give me the access codes to this computer or I start slicing body parts off. And thanks to what your daddy told me, I know it won’t kill you anytime soon. I can still ship what is left to the GSS for experiments and they can examine your molecules to discover what you are exactly. But I lack the time and patience for this, Electra.” He pulled out a long, wicked-looking blade and held it so that the razor sharp edge glinted in the office lighting. “Either way, you are going to give me what I want and then be off to meet and greet the good doctors we keep on staff.” He rose to his feet and paced carefully around the desk, showing nothing but calm acceptance of what he was about to do. That scared her almost blind. “But…,” she tried to stall. “But…” Then before he could take another step, the lights began to flash crazily. That made him freeze in his footsteps and glare at Electra, as if it was somehow her doing. “Now what?” He was annoyed and indignant that someone would interrupt his torture and dissection before it had a chance to commence. Then, before she could make another move, the doors blew open. The air filled with the sounds of shouts, screaming, and running footsteps. “Damn it all to hell!” Darius growled, his eyes narrowing in anger as he stared at the remains of what had once been a triple-thick, reinforced steel door. His eyes searched the corridor as his curses filled the air. “Next time,” he growled as he turned to the bound woman. “It seems that we are to be forever interrupted.” He ran a finger along her cheek, smiling a sickly sweet smile that sent shivers down her spine. He ran that same finger under his nose, inhaling her scent, before he sucked his finger into his mouth, eyes still connected with hers. “Until then.” Abruptly, he turned and slammed the knife into her desk, spearing the scattered papers and leaving his own brand of signature. Turning on his heel, he stormed toward the rear of the office area and the exit she knew was hidden there.

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“Another time, sweet Electra. But I have no time now for this foolishness. Keep your access codes. In a few hours, it won’t matter anyway.” Then he was gone, silently and deadly, like a Black Adder. The bastard had gotten away. “Damn you, Darius Cain!” Electra bellowed. She strained at her bindings, but they held now, the same as they held when she had high-voltage electricity shot through her body. Who had come to her rescue? It was not like any members of Medusa’s Hand had mysteriously regained any of their lost faith in her…now that Darius had poisoned their minds. And he had done it so easily! What did that say about her as a leader? There were going to be some serious changes when she took back the reins. “Hey, Boss Lady? You in there?” It couldn’t be! But it was! Then she realized that they may be able to stop Cain yet. Michael had come and he brought The Unit! Electra did something she could never remember doing in her whole entire life. She opened her mouth and bellowed for help! “Michael!” she screamed. “In here! Quickly, Michael! He is getting away!” But it was not Michael that moved through the smoke and flashing lights of the small doorway. The figure was unmistakable, even in this gloom and darkness. “Need a hand?” His voice purred, as smooth as silk and as dangerous as ever. “Odin!”

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Chapter 18

“You have to get him! He is getting away…through the rear exit…go get him!” She paused as more footsteps sounded and the small building rocked as several people ran inside. Behind Odin came the most welcome sight she had seen since Odin, naked and spread out across that damn kitchen table. Michael, covered in dust and sweat, along with several remaining members of The Unit, moved in through the doorway! “Darius?” he growled, an automatic weapon in his hands and a grudge obviously in his heart. He had a bone to pick with Darius Cain, and it seemed to be a pretty big bone. Instead of following the demented madman like she would have expected, Midas motioned for the Michael and the others to follow Cain as he dropped to his knees beside her. The men shot past them both, hot on the trail of the one man begging to be killed. “Electra!” There was a wealth of emotion in his voice as he stared at her, drinking in her face and the signs of the recent torture that had wracked her body with agony. Her sweat-dampened hair hung in dark clumps and there was a red puffiness to her skin around the spots where the electrodes were glued to her body. Her eyes were filled with relief and warmth as they gazed at him, but he could read the lingering pain and exhaustion that enveloped her body in shivers. She was one of the most beautiful sights that he had ever beheld. But, he had to deal with business first. “He is a dead man.” His words were dark and cold, filled with hate and the need for vengeance. She didn’t need to be an empath to read the menace and anger flowing from him. It was a frightening thing to behold. Before her shocked brain could force her limbs to move, Odin was pulling the taped electrodes from her chest, arms, and upper thighs. “Ouch!” she hissed, as the sticky adhesive tried to take a few layers of skin with it. “Take it a little easier. That is skin, you know.” He said nothing, but a quick movement of his hand revealed a butterfly knife, whose duel swinging attached sheath sang as he twirled it quickly in his hand. The plastic bindings gave after a few quick slashes and then his hands eased her arms up in front, rubbing at the red pressure marks the bindings left behind.

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“Odin,” she breathed, for after experiencing what she had with the man, he would never just be Midas again in her eyes. His dark eyes lifted to hers. There was a wealth of understanding in those eyes, along with instant forgiveness and love. It almost moved her to tears. But before she could elaborate or express her emotions vocally, Michael and the others returned, cursing and swearing. “Bastard got away.” Michael looked angry enough to chew bricks. “Had a car waiting outside the building, near as I could tell.” Michael sounded disgusted as he stared at both his bosses. Electra sensed he was glad to see them both safe, but kicked himself for not acting sooner. She was sure that she looked like hell in a hand basket because of the torture. Midas must have read Michael’s guilt and regret, because he turned to speak before Michael began any unnecessary apologies. “Michael, you did what you could.” Midas rose to his feet to face the other man head on. “You got me in here and were making plans to get her out even before I showed up. It was a nice night for a walk and a piss in the woods, but that is not the usual behavior of a man who is planning on accepting the leadership of a coup. Neither is disarming early alert systems either. Because of you, we got to Electra before they did something more permanent to her. Plus you kept the members of The Unit at the ready. You have nothing to be sorry for.” The man still looked unconvinced, but still he nodded at Midas’ words. “I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know who to trust! And we haven’t had word from Agamemnon other than to follow that deranged fool and…” He shrugged his shoulders and huffed as he lost the words to express his feelings. “Now that bastard managed to get away, probably climbing back into whatever shit-hole he crawled out of.” “No,” Electra interrupted, making all those in the room turn to her. “He is going to handle the plans himself.” “Mr. GQ doing some red work?” Michael rolled his eyes at the thought of the man actually getting his perfectly manicured hands dirtied up, good and proper. Killing people and having blood spatter all over him, true red work to a mercenary, seemed out of place for Darius. “I’ll believe it when I see it!” “It’s not red work, Michael.” Electra attempted to stand. She stumbled and instantly Midas was there, offering her what help she needed to keep her feet. More of The Unit entered the room and signaled that the way was all clear. Electra gave a moment’s thought to the members of Medusa’s Hand, wondering over the casualties, as the others gathered around, but quickly turned her attention to the problem at hand. She would deal with the others, the loss of life and the easy betrayal, later.

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“A set up like this has assassination attempt written all over it!” Michael was positive. Why else would the man go through so much trouble? They had foiled plans like this a thousand times and probably would a thousand times more. “More like World Domination.” Electra’s words were as serious as Midas’ face. “World…” “And disregard anything Agamemnon says,” Electra added, cutting off Michael before he could say anything else. “He’s pure evil.” “Agamem…” Michael was looking more and more confused. He had been sure that Darius had intercepted some of the man’s words and scrambled the messages they were to have. But to accuse the man of being pure evil…? Had the world gone mad? But no, both Electra and Midas’ expressions showed that they were deadly serious. “He’s my father.” Electra’s eyes sparked in anger as she looked around at her men. “And he is about to destroy the world!” Only Midas seemed to understand exactly what she was saying. He turned sharply toward the computer, taking one of her arms and led her to the seat Darius so recently evacuated. She refused to sit there. She pushed the chair aside and stood beside Midas, staring down at the monitor. “Where?” His one word moved her to action. “This is just a guess,” she hedged, “but there is this thing in Chicago…” “Chicago.” He turned to look at her, their noses close together as he awaited her explanation. “And…I understand the file, Gold.” Gold, like his eyes, the eyes she thought she would never behold again. “What are you talking about?” Michael finally growled, stepping forward in his battle gear and slamming his fists on the desktop, breaking up the two who seemed to be moving closer and closer together. “You and you,” Midas ordered, blinking as he pulled away from his lady and pointing to two of the men who entered with Michael. “Secure a plane. We have to be in the air and soon!” “Will someone explain?” Michael shouted, beyond frustrated as he stared at his two leaders playing kissy-face in the midst of this crisis.

Michael was almost emotionally and physically depleted. Together, Midas and he managed to subdue most of Medusa’s Hand with extreme force. Some of those guys had it coming, like Jon, but they managed to just plain avoid most of them, until they found out where Electra was being held. Knocking

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the arrogant Jon out was pure pleasure, no bones about it. Then they cut communications by deactivating the satellite hookup and cutting the unit-to-unit phone lines. That was easy enough, but to gas his friends and fellow mercenaries to sleep… Well, he guessed they deserved it for not keeping the faith in their leader who so often risked her life for one of them. Then he gave the message to temporarily scatter to those who he considered like-minded and had not believed a word of Darius Cain’s rhetoric. Therefore, anyone coming in from different jobs or those who were unaware of any changes of arms were now headed for the hills. But now, all he really wanted to know was what was really going on! “Okay,” Electra said as she perched on the side of her desk, peering at him from around the bulk of Midas. “Follow along with me here, because we don’t have time to do this twice.” All the men nodded in agreement. “Agamemnon is my father, and for those who don’t remember or were not here when I was taken in, the same father who wants me dead. Darius Cain was trying to take over Medusa’s Hand for him. We have been doing their dirty work for years, probably soon after Wraith left us. Wraith…” Her breath caught as she recalled his betrayal, but bravely moved past it. “Wraith knew all along.”

Electra ignored the shocked murmurs of those who had known and fought alongside the man and continued, her pain at his actions greater than her physical hurts, but now was not the time to deal with it. “Darius has concocted a plan that will release a deadly biochemical agent in two parts into the world, probably from Wrigley Field. Today. The same Wrigley Field where the President’s Peace Summit will hold their closing exercises before the dignitaries return to their homes. This virus cannot be detected by the Weapons of Mass Destruction Civil Support Unit. All of their readings will come up clear. I know all of this, you see, because they don’t know that I have the file! I have their plans here and we must stop them. By any means necessary.” There were quiet gasps of amazement, some still wondering over Wraith’s actions, but none questioned Electra. “Even if we die in the undertaking, we cannot let the virus get out or it will unleash unholy terror on all the nations of the world. These people will carry this plague back to their homes, to their countries, to their friends and relations. The earth will be one big graveyard, a dumping ground for death and decay. They must be eliminated.” Michael blinked at his boss for a minute, then turned his gaze onto Midas, who stood there secure and strong, nodding in agreement. “Damn,” he managed, as the full scope of this plan was suddenly impressed upon his mind.

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“Oh, and Midas infiltrated our group for his own group that is planning to stop ORION and the GSS. Understand?” She didn’t wait for an affirmative. “Good! Now we have to move!” Michael was still standing there, somewhat shocked, as the two men returned. “Area secure,” one said, staring in the face of the shocked silence that greeted them, “What?” “I need a departure time of no less than one hour,” Electra added, nodding for some of the others to fill the two men in. “I have to get prepared. Michael, prep the men. Any who don’t want to be a part of this have my leave to disperse. If we survive, we’ll get in contact, and this means you as well, Michael.” Electra smiled as he looked at the man who had done so much for her in the past few days. He had never lost his faith. She would not repay that by leading him to what more than likely would be certain death. “You can go. This all just may blow up in our faces and I am not even sure how to stop them! But damn it, after all of this, I have got to try.” Michael didn’t even blink. “I’ll take a quick death any day at your side, rather than listen to Darius Cain as my overlord and master.” He shook his head in disgust. “What a fucking mind trip.” Then, “What do I need to do?” “I need gold, Michael. I need a manageable quantity of gold and an ACADA, a chemical agent detector and alarm. I know we have some around here for bio-terrorism attacks. If we have time, I have an hour to alter it so that it can search out specifically what we are looking for. It may or may not help, but it is worth the chance. Got that?” “On my way. Give me twenty minutes.” Michael and the remaining members of Medusa’s Hand left at a brisk pace. “So…Agamemnon is your father,” Midas began, turning around and running a hand over her arm. “I am so sorry, Electra. So very sorry.” “Ask me why I am not surprised?” She sighed and fought the urge to lay her head on his shoulder, or the desk, or any nearby flat surface. She was tired, emotionally shot and physically drained. “Still…” he began, but was swiftly cut off. “Not now, Midas. Michael will be returning soon and I have to try and figure out…” Her words were cut off as his arms gripped her shoulders and lifted. Suddenly she was faced with an angry, pissed off Midas, and this was Midas, make no mistake.

None of Odin Rothwell’s

understanding showed in his face. “If you ever do something that asinine again,” he gritted out, “I will turn you over my knee and paddle some sense into your delectable little ass!”

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Okay, so this was Midas with emotions! She remembered him! He was still with her and she didn’t know if she should scream in fear or ecstasy! “You what?” Her heart began to pound as hope filled her heart. Maybe he wasn’t going to walk out on her after all! Maybe there was still a chance! “You heard me, woman. You may be the cool, exalted head of Medusa’s Hand, but if you ever put your life in danger over something this ridiculous again, I will chain your ass in a quiet corner and even your little electronic friends won’t be able to help you when I pull out my paddle!” “How dare you!” She jerked away, stumbled a step back and glared, her eyes blazing angrily as she stared at her man. She ignored the erotic tensing of her body – the body that reveled in his possessive attitude – and glared death at him. But inside, she was dancing! Yes! He was still her man! “I dare because I love you, you stupid female!” he suddenly shouted, getting in her face so that there would be no mistaking his words. “Stupid!” Her voice almost rose to a shriek as she slammed her hands on her hips and tried to stare him down. Hard to do, especially since she was looking up. “Stupid!” he shouted right back. “You inject me with a drug that you had no idea how it would react to my system…” “I checked to see if it was safe…kind of…” “You stole my truck!” He stepped closer to her. “You stole it first!” she retorted, not backing down one inch. “Finders keepers!” he snarled back, hands now on his hips, mimicking her stance as he returned her glare and added some self-righteous heat to it. And then he added his coup de grace! “And you walked right into a fucking trap!” Damn him for bringing that up, she thought. “I thought I could get answers!” she defended. “Hell, man! I did get the answers!” “And if you got tortured?” His words were raspy and his feelings of fear, anger and pain all showed up in his voice as he continued. “I could feel you, Electra. I could feel your pain.” His voice fairly cried. “You are a part of me now, and I could feel the pain you were going through. I could feel it and I was once again powerless to do anything about it! Please, don’t put me through that again. Please!” “I…I…” What could she say to that? “I had to do it, Midas. I did what I had to do.” “You could have trusted me!” he snapped. “You could have believed…in me. Just a little, Electra!”

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“But I did believe, Odin. I do! I believed that you would come and save me, even when I know I didn’t deserve it, and you did. I believe in you more than I believe in myself.” He could feel her words, feel the truth in them, as she dropped her aggressive stance and showed some of her vulnerability as her arms dropped to her sides.

She was defenseless in the force of

his…overwhelming emotions. Cain had cut off her pants to attach the electrodes to her thighs, and Midas could still see the rapidly fading pink marks that should have been burns as his head dropped. His walls were crumbling and it was so very hard to meet her eyes, to look into her glowing face. He could feel the sincerity flowing around, surrounding her, and he could feel her desire, too. Her desire and lust were great, instantly causing his body to tighten in response, but underlying all of that were small tendrils of infatuation and growing streams of…love. Electra…she loved him! His lady loved him! “Electra!” he breathed as he dropped his barriers and the full force of her faith hit him, a feeling so strong it almost brought him to his knees. He reached out for her and she was there, in his arms, her hot mouth seeking his. Her tongue invaded his mouth, claiming him, proving her love and her trust. Then his hands were on the remainders of her clothing, her tattered underwear, and the sounds of rending fabric flowed in harmony with the soft moans and grunts that emerged from their throats. They both knew time was short and there was a desperation to their movements. “Twenty minutes,” she moaned as Midas lifted her and deposited her, bare-assed, onto the desk. “Twenty minutes.” “How many times do you think I can make you come in twenty minutes?” he growled from the vicinity of her throat. Before she had a chance to respond, she screamed as a wave of lust and erotic passion shook her. It traveled through her back, down her spine, making her legs spasm, her toes curl and her inner walls clench. Odin gripped her thighs, parting them, stepping in the gap they made and pressing the hard bulge of his arousal against her. The friction, the feel of that familiar hardness, it was too much! It slammed into her hard, her head dropped back, and a screech left her throat as the first spasms began to pass through her. Her skin tingled as her hands tore at him, her nails leaving deep gouges in his shoulders through his shirt. But he was beyond feeling and she was beyond caring. “Odin! Yes…God, Odin!”

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Then he was in her mind, and she was swamped with his emotions! She could feel herself through him, feel her heat as he strained against her through his pants. She could feel her soft breasts, with their oh-so-hard nipples, pressing into his chest. Then her orgasm tore through her, forcing her to feel the empty void, created just for him to fill. It was a small orgasm, but it caused her knees to shake, her eyes to roll back, and a whimpering moan to pass her lips. Then she felt a wave of cool air as he stepped back and tore at his clothing. His tech vest hit the floor with a muffled thump and his shirt went flying soon after. At some point, her hands joined in, fumbling at his belt, nearly ripping his camo pants in an effort to get them undone. But then they, too, were falling, sliding down those slim hips and thick thighs, pooling somewhere around his ankles, caught on the thick, black books he wore. “Now!” she all but screamed. “I want it now!” “Patience,” he growled as he stepped up between her spread legs, his arms reaching down to hook her at the knees and pulled her closer to the edge of the desk. “I’m not done.” She whimpered as the heat began to build in her stomach. That last orgasm was like a miniorgasm…light. She wanted the whole thing! “Do me!” His low chuckle seemed to search deep inside her body, touching things that it shouldn’t be able to touch, igniting the fire and sending her heat to simmer just below boiling. Her eyes dropped to half-mast and her tongue lashed out to lap at dry lips. She dropped her arms behind her, bracing herself, pushing her breasts up in a wanton display. “Tease,” he growled, before he leaned over and pulled one hard nipple into his mouth. “Mmm,” her body shuddered at the contact, sending prickles of pleasure shooting through sensitive nerves to flash somewhere in her crotch, tightening her, increasing her desire for him. His tongue licked at her, laving and playing with the hard tip, before his teeth bit down gently, worrying at her tender flesh. Her other nipple was not abandoned, as his fingers sought out that hard peak as well, pulling and twisting just to the point of pain, then backing off and petting it gently. The contrasts were driving her crazy! Her hands dove for his hair, freeing it from the band that restrained the long, silky locks, shuddering as they fell about her body, a thousand little silky caresses on her overheated skin. Her fingers lost themselves in that fall, tangling and tugging, urging him on, faster. Then his hot mouth nibbled at her. His rough tongue laved the skin of her neck and shoulders. Her legs crept higher snapping around his waist and caressing the skin of his sides, groaning as she felt the numerous ridges of the scars that criss-crossed his body. This was a man, a warrior, a lover to dominate, and she wanted him inside her where he belonged. But all she could do was whimper and

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moan her need as he growled into her neck, his teeth biting at the flesh above her pulse, centering on another sensitive nerve and sending a white hot flash of heat through her body. “Odin!” she shrieked, as his rough fingers scraped over her back, his other hand cupping her head, fisting in her hair. He pulled her head back, making her vulnerable to him, a submissive animal. She gladly let her head fall back as another wave of feelings from him invaded her psyche. “God…what are you doing…Odin!” There was lust, love, passion and need! Hungry! He was so hungry! He wanted her, desired her, needed her! And with that mental push, another small orgasm speared through her, larger than the last, clenching her walls and making her throb as her body stiffened for a moment, a whining scream erupting from her throat. “I have to taste you!” he muttered, nowhere near finished. He pulled back and looked, really looked, down at his Electra, laid out in such a wonton sprawl. Her legs were tightening, riding his body trying to force him closer. Her eyes were half-closed, her head back, her breasts trembling with every rough breath she took. Her whole body was taut, tight and damn near quivering. The spread of those tight thighs revealed the intimate triangle of soft red hair that shielded her sex from his view. He could not have that! Licking his lips and groaning, he dropped his hands to her center and used his thumbs to part her, marveling at the delicious rose-gold hue, before he revealed the hooded seed of her pleasure. “So pretty,” he purred, holding her open with one hand while his thumb gently caressed her, making her body startle and causing her legs to close reflexively, before they loosened, giving him better access. Then he backed up and dropped to his knees, burrowing his face into her warm, fragment delta. “Odin, yes!” she moaned, her arms giving way and her head dropping back on the desk, forcing some supplies out of the way as she turned from side to side. Her hands reached out and fisted his hair, tugging at the long soft ropes, wanting him to go deeper, deeper, deeper! “Ahh!” she screamed as her pelvis arched up, pushing against his hungry mouth as his tongue reached out and curled perfectly around her. She shrieked and arched against him, feeling the burn become an itch that blossomed into a wave of heat and stole her breath, leaving her shivering on the verge of another orgasm. “O…Odin!” Then he thrust two thick fingers into her opening, stretching her, hitting her sweet spot, just as the next orgasm took over her. She squealed as her walls clenched around his fingers, her body arched up, her thighs tightened, and still it was not enough. His fingers filled her, but not enough. Not deep enough, not long enough, not wide enough. She wanted him, and she wanted him now! Tears rolled out of the

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corners of her eyes as her need again swelled to unbelievable proportions. His enjoyment of her was evident, even if he wasn’t reading her brainwaves or filling her with his emotions, his joy, his growing hunger! She opened her eyes at his pleased murmur and looked down between her legs to see his amber eyes glinting at her. She whimpered as her head fell backwards, post-it notes falling around her. “Please, Odin,” she managed through her tight throat. This pleasure, this tingling pleasure was phenomenal, but it was not enough. She needed more, she needed him. “As you ask, baby,” he purred, He reached down for his pants, pulling something out of an inside pocket, before standing and spreading her legs further. Her whole body trembled with arousal, with denied completion, which she knew would not be denied much longer. Long, cocoa-colored fingers tore at the package, ripping it and pulling out a large, latex sheath. She licked her lips, her gaze stuck on his straining meat. It looked angry and swollen, hungry and dangerous, like the most perfect thing she had ever seen. He placed the latex at the head and slowly sheathed it, purring, “You can do whatever you want to it later. Now, I have to be inside you, baby.” He moved between her legs, spreading them further, placing the heels of her feet flat onto the desk, thrusting forward and… “Odin!” Moving slowly, he filled her, stretching her, straining against nerve endings that begged for stimulation! Trembling took over her body and her legs left the table to wrap around his waist, toes curling. She was coming again! She rippled around him as he eased his way in, pulling him in faster, screaming as her body arched off the desk. “Shit, baby!” he managed, then closed his eyes as he pushed onward, not stopping until he was buried to the base. “Move, damn you!” Electra snarled at his grinding motions, tightening her legs around him, wanting more! “As you wish!” he moaned, scalded by her tight heat, but knowing their time was short. Pulling back, she groaned at the tight grip of her body that didn’t want to let him go, then he was slammed back into her, sending her fingers scrambling for purchase as she slid across the desk. “Hot, you are so hot and so tight…and so good!” Electra was beyond hearing! At that first deep thrust, she whimpered as she arched herself up to meet his thrusts, offering herself as a sacrifice to his desires, demanding that he worship at the temple of

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her body. He pulled back, and slammed into her again, the sound of flesh meeting flesh loud in the once silent office. Again and again, he plunged as she wailed and accepted him, lifting up to meet his plunges, demanding more! “Odin…so good…right there!’ she muttered as he swerved his hips and altered his angle so that he brushed against her G-spot. “Mmm!” He leaned down and sucked a nipple deep within his mouth, and then he lost control. He thrust into her wildly, taking her, forcing her to feel everything that he was feeling! Within her head, he projected his lust, his need, the way his nerves tingled, the way his lower back burned pleasurably at each of her soft sounds and her loud screams. He sent to her his desire to see her fulfilled, the pleasure he got out of just being beside her, inside her, with her, possessing her! It was too much, but not enough. Her head slammed backwards, her fingers tearing at his hair, her body arched up and froze. “Ohh…ohhhh…ODIN!” Her vision went white and her nerves burned her skin as she exploded! “Electra!” Odin bellowed. She pulled at him, drowning him in her hot, wet heat. He tingled, his back arched, his hands fisted in her hair, and he released. His seed shot from him in pulses, increasing the steaming sensation of her body pulling at him! Never had he felt such need! And the emotion pouring off her! Love, he sent! Love, she received. Love, she returned. Shuddering, lost in an emotional haze, he collapsed on her, sweating and trembling, tears rolling down his face as the realization of what he had filled him. He loved. He was loved! Unconditionally. He could die a happy man. As soon as he got those damn post-it notes out of his hair.

***

Do you think we will ever do this in a bed?” Electra shifted as she swore she felt a staple pressing into the flesh of her tender ass. Desk sex was fun, but it was funny how you never noticed pinching paperclips or run away office supplies until you were done. “Six times in twenty minutes,” he purred, nuzzling at her neck before he reached out for his shirt.

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He pulled back a little, saw the mess of her shredded underwear scattered all over the floor, and shrugged. “I’m good.” Electra grinned as she tried to relearn how to breathe. Her chest heaved with labored breaths and she was so weak she could barely lift her finger. “Hey!” He leaned over her, growling low in his throat as he ghosted his lips over her neck, surprising a squeal out of her as his dreads trailed across the sensitive skin of her upper body. “What about me?” His eyes laughed at hers. “I am good,” she giggled, snatching his shirt from his hands and pulling it over her head. Mmm, it smelled masculine, like Odin. “I am damned good! I got six and you only got one.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Well, that was some pretty fine logic, he supposed. But he never got to respond because he could feel eagerness and a hint of anxiety, coming straight at them full speed. He spun around, placing himself in front of Electra while she tugged his black t-shirt into place. “I got it!” Michael bellowed and he raced into the room, a smile on his lips that slowing faded into a smirk as be bent down to pick up what appeared to be the crotch in a pair of female underwear. “And it looks like I wasn’t the only one.” “Departure time?” Electra snapped from around Midas. Her cheeks tingled as she bent her head forward, hiding her blush behind a flow of red hair. Michael looked up at her, his mouth opened once then closed, then opened once again for good measure before he shook his head. “I really don’t want to know.” Electra had black hair, now it was long and red, and he knew that there were no wigs involved in either instance. Not to mention that the whole world as they knew it was about to disintegrate around their ears and they were having kinky office sex in a doorless room on top of a desk. They couldn’t lie their way out of this one! He was holding the evidence! These people were…weird! They picked a fine time to fall into heat! “Hour fifteen,” he answered sharply, like a good solider should, and then continued.

“Not

including the recreational screw, Ma’am.” Electra’s glare promised death, so he decided not to push her, friendship or not. He didn’t want to wind up dead when he only just got his leader back. “The ACADA will be here momentarily. We had one in storage. I just needed to check my inventory and pull the correct model.”

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Electra nodded, then stepped around Midas to face Michael after tugging Midas’s over-protective body back. She didn’t need to see any more of the smirk that the man was trying to hide. It was too early for bloodshed in her book. “Good,” she said, placing her hands on Midas’ face, diverting his attention to her half-clothed body, while glaring a warning at Michael. Instantly, he smiled as his hands went around her waist. He finally let his emotions show, and boy was he pulling out all of the stops! “Oh,” she added, as he began to pull her into his body, “are any of my clothes still around? Darius undressed me to those charming institutional undies before he started my electro-shock therapy, and I was really hoping for something a little more fancy for the party we are about to crash.” Midas chuckled at her wording and turned to wink at a stunned Michael, who used every ounce of control in his body not to break out into amazed laugher, scream with the oddness of this situation, or check to see if the pod people had come and taken away his fierce leaders! “I… Um, yeah. We got that.” Michael stammered. Then, before they could do anything else shocking, like break out into a version of Singing in the Rain, complete with umbrellas and matching goulashes, he turned tail and ran. A good strategist knew when to retreat, and the getting seemed to be good right about now.

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Chapter 19

It was simple to alter the ACADA. Electra just had to program a few of her friends according to the formulas she pulled in from the Gold file. Midas watched in amazement as she muttered instructions to herself and the nanos rushed to deliver. “Interfacing complete,” she muttered to herself as she bent over the apparatus that resembled a cross between some nineteen seventies sci-fi movie version of a ray gun and a small hand held computer. “And now you add the altered nanos?” “And now, for my next trick,” she quipped, retracting the thin, silver filament that connected her to the USB port of the detector, “I shall add seven drops of blood to the altered machine, through the USB, of course.” They both watched as seven small drops settled in on the port, almost immediately sucked inside. “And voila!” she signed, as she put the finger she’d pricked with the filament before it retracted inside her mouth. “Job is done. Detector is altered.” The chemical solution needed to hold the nanos was a bit harder to come by, but thanks to their extensive and well-inventoried lab, they had no problems making adjustments. The gold flecks that were needed were the willingly sacrificed jewelry of the members. Gold rings, necklaces, and earrings were given over eagerly to be chewed up in a grinder and shredded up until they were nothing but soft, metal flakes. No fake gold or impure carat numbers were used. “Is transport ready?” Midas pressed the button on his two-way receiver and Michael’s garbled voice answered back. “Ready and waiting, Big Guy.” “We are on our way,” Midas responded. “Got ya, Michael out.” That taken care of, Midas again turned his attention to this amazing woman that he now possessed. She was dressed in her dark-colored battle fatigues, a utility vest hiding the soft fullness of her breasts, her hair dull brown and pulled back tightly at her nape in a taut ponytail. She was once again the leader of what remained of Medusa’s Hand, and about to head out with her specially trained assault troop, The Unit. But the smile she shot at him as she rose to her feet with the altered machinery was pure, one hundred percent, unadulterated woman.

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“Are we ready here?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from her beloved face and looking down at his combat watch. “Not really, but do we have a choice?” The joy leached from his eyes as their purpose once again asserted itself. “I wish – I wish I could leave you here,” Odin breathed. “Here where it is safe.” “Yeah,” she sighed, “Where there was torture afoot and my own people turned against me. And let us not forget the nice fire fight that was instituted right outside of these very doors. Wait! There are no doors! You used C4 to blow them away. How silly of me to forget.” “That is not what I meant,” Midas reached out to caress her face, and damned if she didn’t snuggle into his caress, like a cat begging for attention. “I know what you meant, Odin,” she breathed. “I know exactly what you meant, because that is exactly how I feel. I wish I could keep you safe! I wish I could wrap you in cotton, and place you on a shelf where no one would ever hurt you.” She lifted her head, tore herself away from that comforting caress. “But…” “But we live in the real world,” he finished. “And in our reality, the bad guys come equipped with biotoxins and have the ability to infect baseball stadiums after torturing the heroine with electricity.” “Something like that,” she chuckled as she took a step back. “There will be time for this – time for us – later.” “Later,” he agreed and watched as she lifted her equipment and turned to exit the room. “If we have a later,” he added under his breath. Maybe it was selfish of him to want to see her safe, to pass this assignment off on someone else. But he knew the reality of their situation. They were the only ones who could stop the poison that was about to be unleashed on an unsuspecting world. No matter how much he wished it wasn’t so. He could feel the dread rolling off Electra and the men – dread and fear. Fear of failure, and just plain fear about the evil they were going up against. His own thoughts just added to the bubbling cauldron that was his soul. “God help us,” he said to the empty room before turning and leaving to follow his commander.

***

They were on their way to aerial transport and they managed to do it within the allotted two hours. It was an interesting ride, with Electra quiet, Midas sullen, and the rest of the men down right paranoid. “What will we do when we get there?” someone asked.

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Midas grunted, because frankly, he had no idea. The thought of a virus that potent being released on the world made him shudder. He was damn glad that he could tone down his emotions or he would feed off his own fear until he had a breakdown! How could anyone coldly plan the brutal murder of millions? “Stop them if we can.” Electra’s words were final. There was no going back. Midas said nothing. In the time they had before they evacuated the ruins of the base and started toward transport, he managed to make a few phone calls and notify the people who needed to know. Electra had insisted. He hoped that Archer and the rest were prepared. How diabolical could someone become before being considered a real life monster…demon… abomination? It looked like he was going to meet the things that crawled out from under the dank shadows really soon, and he was ill-prepared for how that made him feel. So he sat there, absently listening to the conversations flowing around him, the stagnated, broken words of men and women about to face death, unsure of their chances. Michael sat to his right, pale and shaking, but trying to mask it behind a façade of knowledge and facts. Electra sat to his left, fear and guilt flowing from her pores, as if she were responsible for what was about to happen. She tried to carry the guilt of the world on her shoulders, most of the time succeeding in carrying a mammoth portion! He knew she’d accepted the dictates of Wraith and later Agamemnon, her father, without question because she felt it her duty to the people who supposedly saved her, the people who supposedly loved her. She had pushed her quick mind and inquisitive nature aside out of feeling guilt for being a burden and because she felt she deserved nothing else. Her father did manage to crack her, but the way she rallied now, despite her fears, showed that she would never and could never be broken. No matter how many times they tried, she remained whole. The other few members of The Unit, all that temporarily remained intact of Medusa’s Hand, sat silently and nervously, awaiting instruction. They all were awaiting the all clear or the ‘pray to your god of choice and get your final affairs in order’ call. It was nerve-wracking, maddening, heart wrenching, hateful…any way you looked at it. But there was hope there, too! Electra had hope in what he promised Mythos could accomplish. And there was the hope of The Unit, that their leaders would make the evil lurking in the shadows go away and their fucked up little world would return to their version of normal. That was the hope he held in his heart. Even though no matter how he wished that this was a dream, he knew that his version of reality was about to get really ugly. But he maintained hope in his

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heart that they were doing the right thing, that the good guys would prevail and all would be made better, if not perfect. He could hope. He could dream. He could, damn it! It was all he had left. No, he was wrong. It was not all that he had. He turned to stare at Electra’s anxious face, to see her bite at her lower lip in a fit of nervousness. He watched as her eyes hardened while she talked herself up into going to what she supposed was ground zero – that she was not mistaken about the target, that she had read the signs correctly. For her…for her, he could hope. Hell, for her he would die, so he damn well better hope. He loved that woman, odd and strange as she may appear with her little buddies on board and her stubborn nature. She was his, and he was going to use everything in his arsenal, do everything in his power, to see her mission finished successfully. That was what love was all about. Love was sacrifice and loyalty and honor. She had given him hers, and he could do no less.

***

Electra winced as the Black Hawk sped toward the Windy City, the perfect place to spread a contagion. Damn those trade winds. Her hands gripped the interior safety strap tightly and she bounced in her seat as the bird moved swiftly through lightening sky. Destiny, she thought, had no timetable. But fate sure could kick your ass! But now was not the time to get into any philosophical thoughts about manifest destiny and how some people just seemed to be fated to be stuck in a real life soap opera style drama. Now was the time to ensure that she could get the job done quickly and with as little loss of human life as possible. She looked up at the light-purple predawn sky and mentally called up the schematics for Wrigley Field. The place was so vast! And there were vents and air pumps everywhere! They were all connected, the dugouts, the vendors’ rooms, the skyboxes… This place was not built to seal off sections of vents in case of a biochemical attack! But there were purifiers, giving the people inside their wealthy little skyboxes a bit more time before the contagion reached them, but even they would eventually come in contact with the virus. “This is hopeless,” she breathed, not realizing her words were sent through the heavy headphones and mouthpiece, standard gear for anyone riding in the bird. But as her self-doubts mounted, Odin reached out and gripped her hand tightly in his. She turned to look at him and released the smile that was, despite the circumstances, spreading across her face. He looked so funny behind the superimposed schematics of the field, his headphones large, yet framing his perfect face. She blinked the diagrams

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away and concentrated on his beloved face. And boy was he beloved. And it wasn’t just the sex, though that was magnificent. She smiled as she felt a wave of reassurance and confidence flow through her, a gift from the man who made everything golden with his touch. “Odin was the Norse god of wisdom,” she informed him. “He sacrificed an eye so that he could gain the treasures of the mind.” Odin snorted and rolled his eyes at her, focusing on the trees and landscape that blurred as they sped by. “Odin needed an internet connection.” His voice was calm and steady, just what she needed to hear from him. “Then maybe he wouldn’t have gone through life looking like Cyclops!” “Odin!” She whacked his arm lightly. “It’s about sacrifice! You sacrifice what you hold dear and you learn in recompense.” “Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes at the stupid, moral crap she was spouting. You only sacrificed what you could afford to lose. Anything else would leave you at a disadvantage. “If you give up what’s most dear…” Electra began, but stopped as Odin squeezed her hand and gave it a gentle tug. “I would never give up what I hold most dear, Electra. I blow up shit so that I won’t have to!” He rolled his eyes as if to say ‘silly female’ and ran his free hand through his dreads. Electra rolled her eyes in return, in an effort to hide the furious grin that spread across her face. One should not smile when trying to stop the spread of worldwide death, chaos, and destruction. Pestilence was no laughing matter! And Odin was making her forget that. Now was not the time for them to play a mating game. The world needed them to focus their attention solely on finding a solution to this problem. But first, there was something she had to do, something she always wanted to do, but only now had the rights to do. She pulled free of his grip and reached into her flack jacket, pulling out a black hair tie. Odin raised an eyebrow at her, giving her back one of her most common gestures, before he bent in her direction, allowing her to do what she wanted. Lovingly, she pulled his dreads into a neat ponytail at his nape and locked them into place tightly. He winked at her as she rested her hands on his shoulders. But the eyes she gave him were grave and serious. “I hope I played this right.” She tried to hide her fear, but Odin easily read it from her, and the people who were trying not to see their boss in a moment of doubt and pain. “If I played this wrong, Odin… If I miscalculated…” “You played it like the pro you are,” he returned, watching as the sun began to lighten the sky into a pale blue.

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“I hope…” “No doubts now, lady,” he said, refusing to look at her, refusing to let her see the fear in his eyes he was barely able to mask. “Too late for that now. Time to go and kick some bad-guy ass.” His mechanical sounding voice through the headgear was like honey to her ears, it sweetly reassured her as nothing else could. “Right,” she said as she stiffened her shoulders and pushed all of the doubts behind her. There was no place for them now. “Contacts?” In a flash, she was one again Electra, fierce commander of Medusa’s Hand, and The Unit, a woman in total control. “We have security passes to enter the structure,” he answered, the knowledgeable underling, paying close attention to detail. “We have the altered identification unit and we can check to see if either of the components are present. If they are, we can start the evacuation of the building and hopefully contain the virus.” “And if not?” “We bug the hell out and get to Mythos. We do no one any good dying or being contaminated, and we have vital information that may assist in destroying this virus.” “And our people?” “Code to scramble. We will have to rebuild Medusa’s Hand anyway, and this time, we will do it our way, ensure that no one with only the proper name can gain that much access. And I can feel your guilt,” he added as a flash of it shot through her mind. “It was not your fault, Electra. You were dropped into the system and carried on as best as you could, this would have broken a lot of lesser people.” She said nothing. There was nothing left to say! That was the trouble with empaths. They could read the emotion right out of you, and never break a sweat trying. Although Odin was the only empath that she knew. But that kind of made them even. She was the only robo-girl that he knew! Maybe together, they could stop this thing from happening. As she turned back to her schematics and her dark thoughts, the sun began to rise fully, a blinding flash of yellow over the horizon. She had never noticed the beauty of a sunrise before. She just hoped that they would all live to appreciate the sight another day.

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Chapter 20

They landed on a nearby tennis court of some huge home in the suburbs. What the owner of said tennis court had to say was irrelevant. They ignored the screeches and the screaming, while Michael shoved a fist of cash into the man’s hand, and raced for the transport that was waiting nearby. The transfer took all of fifteen minutes; their contacts were so efficient. Game time was at nine, barring any delays, and they had almost an hour to go to make it to their destination. Fighting through the tight traffic leading up to the stadium was another matter altogether. Even military style Humvees could not deter a hard-boiled baseball fan trying to make it to the game on time, and they had to resort to some pretty aggressive driving to make up some time. With Midas behind the wheel, road rage had no meaning to them as they rolled over medium strips, across several lanes of horn-blowing, cursing traffic, and onto the shoulders of several roads until they reached their exit. The speedometer never dipped below sixty but the men and women inside only prayed that Midas could move faster. The stadium was already packed as they ignored the cursing and horn-blowing of several game goers, and quite a few hand gestures, as they rolled right up to the front gate. Electra leapt from the driver’s seat, Odin close behind as he held the detector carefully cradled in his arms. Michael followed, madly typing into a hand-held device as he shouted out the most likely contamination points. Of course, they were stopped at the gates. “We have to get in there!” Electra said as three tough looking, off-duty officers argued with them. Despite the badges they held, the officers wanted to call the stadium manager and the head of security. The security chief, a huge black man with the name Robert, finally walked down past the iron gates to see what was going on. “Let them in, Terry,” Robert said to the stadium manager. “It looks legitimate.” After a harrowing five minutes of screaming and shouting, Electra and her people were allowed inside, but not alone. A troop of security officers walked with them, eyeing the specialized equipment that Electra carried. The first stop was the generator, one of the easiest places to gain access to the ventilation units. Of course it was located in the sub-basement. Electra kept Michael and Midas with them and Robert and sent the others to check out several key spots, as they clattered down the brightly painted metal steps.

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“We scanned earlier!” a haggled chief of security argued as he followed Electra. “I’m sure you did,” she said as she activated the device, sending information to Michael’s hand­ held for processing, “but as we stated before, Robert, these are special circumstances.” Odin watched their backs, keeping an agitated eye on the security team, as Electra swept around a few of the many banks of generators that supplied air conditioning, purification, and in some cases, water to the many roomed below and above the stadium. Looking over her shoulder, she shook her head at Odin before moving on to the next most likely place, praying that she was wrong about this whole situation. But deep in her heart, she knew that they would find something. “You wouldn’t pick up what they are using!” Electra argued again, for the tenth time since she was assigned this upset and haggard looking man. “They are that clever.” “Miss…” he began. “Electra.” “Electra, you don’t understand!” Robert seemed to be ready to pull out what was left of his hair as he watched the calm woman flanked by two men who reminded him more of terrorists than a Weapons of Mass Destruction Civil Support Unit. “We have the President arriving here, we have dignitaries from all over the U.S. and several other countries represented here! If anything were to happen… If any wind of your operation were to get out after we already cleared this stadium…” “That is why we are here!” Odin took over, drawing the man’s attention with his cold voice. Robert turned, ready to argue his position and defend his competency as a security chief. But Odin stopped him with a friendly arm placed on his shoulder. Then he began to project a sense of well­ being, of peace and acceptance, to the man, drastically lowering his anxiety levels. “All will be well,” he intoned, his voice calm as he stared into Robert’s eyes. “We will find what we are looking for and hopefully make everything all right. There is no fault to you or to yours. This is irregular, but routine. We just brought in some new equipment, and with these terrorists threats against the President and his staff, we can hardly take chances.” For some strange reason, the man felt better after hearing that, and nodding, stepped back and gestured for his team of three to stand down. Robert even managed a half smile as he stepped back, giving Electra, Michael, and Odin some room to maneuver. “Neat trick,” Electra muttered as she gave up on the generators and moved directly to the vents. “I needed you to deal with Darius Cain.” She stuck the device into a vent after Michael unscrewed the fastenings and the metal grate was carefully removed.

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“My gift has its benefits,” he purred, making her blush as she recalled what one of those fascinating uses were, and how they were used just a few short hours ago. “But the only thing I would gift Darius Cain with is a slow, lingering death.” Had it only been a few hours? Odin swallowed the lump in his throat as he took a quick glimpse into the near past, how his Electra declared herself to him and how he gave himself fully to her. Damn. Then her machine beeped. It drew him out of his revelry and slammed him right back into reality. He knew what the beep meant. It sent pure terror zinging through all of their bodies. Electra looked down as the screen turned a dark, sickly green, the nanocytes reacting and coloring to confirm the presence of the first chemical in the destructive cocktail that the GSS wanted to release onto the world. She looked over at Michael who grinned weakly at her and swallowed the lump in her throat. “One chemical is confirmed,” she said, and they all let out a sigh of relief. It was not some major witch-hunt after all! They were on the right trail. Now all they had to do was find the active virus. Robert moved up to them then, his eyes wide in terror as he stared at Electra and the information that Michael was processing in his data pad. “Unbelievable!” he breathed, his eyes wide in terror and shame. How could his team have missed this? They were so thorough in their preparations… “So how do they get the virus out?” Michael asked, ignoring the chief and his amazed men for now. “The two have to meet to activate the reaction, right?” Electra pulled the device from the vent and moved to the next one. Hurriedly, Odin followed and removed the next grate, only to have Electra verify the same thing as the unit’s screen turned that same sickly green. It was the same for the next three vents they tested. They had to assume all were contaminated. Cursing under her breath, Electra turned to walk back toward the main floor, her mind working a mile a minute, trying to beat ORION and the GSS at their own game. “Look around people!” she called as she walked up the metal steps, her footsteps ringing loudly in the metal and concrete halls. “Look for anything that can release a lot of air or gas and look normal. It has to be something that we would never suspect.” Instantly, her orders were relayed to Robert’s security team all over the stadium and to Electra’s own people who scrambled and began to search. “Like that blimp?” Michael asked, pointing up to the circling aircraft. “They dropped a few planes on the Twin Towers. It wouldn’t be that hard to sink a blimp over an open-air stadium.”

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“Too obvious,” Odin said, blowing that theory out of the water. “Plus, unless they had some way to ensure that it would crash into the stadium, there would be too much of a chance that the wind in this place would blow the inactivated virus away. Not controlled enough.” They all hit the main floor and exited near the huge metal gates that made up the entrance to the park. They looked at all the people meandering around, smiling happily and enjoying life. There were people who looked angry or stressed, and some people who looked on the verge of tears. There was life here, in all of its weird and wonderful facets. Silently, they all wondered if these same people would be alive in the weeks to come. “There has to be something!” Electra growled, as she turned and scanned the mezzanine yet again. “Some way of releasing the gas so that everyone here would inhale it.” The security chief was about to speak up, when a group of laughing children ran past. They had started the National Anthem and people were racing to get back to their seats, or standing respectfully, hand over their hearts. “Damn it!” Robert snapped, as the singer began a series of trills and scats, adding his own imprint to the nation’s song. “It’s too loud to think! We need this area cordoned off!” He pulled out one of his men and gave the order for this area to be roped off and no civilians closer than thirty feet to the area around the sub-basement doors. “What are those kids doing here anyway?” Robert asked as his men raced to comply. “Change of plans in today’s promotions,” another of his men answered after he spoke into a communication unit pinned to his shoulder. “They lost the shipment of international flags for the kids to wave, so they decided to do a balloon release and pop.” Balloon release? That caught all of their attention. “Tell us more!” Odin demanded, stepping closer to the informative man. “After the national anthem is over,” he continued, awareness growing in his eyes, “the kids are going to pop balloons filled with glitter at the end of the Star Spangled banner. There are thousands of them out there!” Panic entered his eyes as he stared at these people, horror dawning on all of their faces. “And inside each is a coupon for something, or a dollar, or a souvenir of some kind. Great promotion and, because the people want to carry the balloons around, easy advertising.” Midas found himself speechless as he turned to look at his team, his blood turning to ice in his veins. The balloons? “My God!” he whispered as realization dawned in both Michael’s and Electra’s eyes. “A small bit of the contagion in each balloon…”

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“Body heat will spread it!” Electra took over as his voice stuttered to a stop. “The activity of thousands of people screaming and clapping will fan it around! People will tear them open to get to the prizes inside! Everyone will be infected! Even if they miss the balloon popping, they will get it trying to leave, or walking around, or helping their kid pop them later at home, or… Shit!” “We have to stop them!” Michael bellowed, as he turned to the security chef. “Can you delay that, pause the band, stop the singer…something!” “I’m on it!” Robert bellowed as he turned and raced toward the stadium supervisor’s office. But it was too late. Even as they raced toward the security office and the main nerve center of the stadium, the last strains of The Star Spangled Banner wafted to their ears. “…O’er the land of the Free…” “NO!” Electra screamed, even as Odin grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the exit, Michael following, as he shouted for his people to evacuate. Knowing what had happened, and what the future was going to hold, Odin rapidly typed in a code, scattering what was left of Medusa’s Hand and The Unit. His one last act, before turning away from what would be forever deemed in his mind as Hell on Earth, he punched in the final codes letting Mythos know that they were too late, that they had failed. Running, tears rolled down his face as he took in the joy and happiness, the eagerness and surprise of all those people, inhaling the toxic fumes and breathing in their deaths. It was just too much to take! Their joy! It was tainted! It would be tainted black, stricken with disease and death! And it was nothing they could do about it, just yet. They had failed, but there was still hope! The tiny glow of hope spurred him on, stopping him from walking into the fumes and repenting for this failure. He had faith! And he had Electra. Together, maybe, maybe, they could find a way to stop this. But for now, he reeled with the feelings emanating from the stadium, the joy, happiness, and eagerness. And he knew he was drawing from them, feeding from them, storing the subverted happiness from walking corpses. They hit the exit running, racing around the security gates toward the Humvee, a sentinel in a sea of metal. Inside, he could vaguely make out voices shouting orders into their communicators even as the chief of security was screaming for someone in the announcement booth to make the call, to tell the people to not pop the balloons! He could hear the whispered prayers of the security chief, the anguish and the guilt flowing off him was palatable, almost as strong as his own. Electra was frantic, desperation pouring from her as her strong legs pumped and her breath hitched in her throat, fighting to hold back tears.

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Michael’s mutterings, “This is not happening, this is not happing! This can’t be real!” seemed an appropriate dirge for mankind. Odin paused one last time as they scurried into the dubious safety of the Humvee, looking back over his shoulders at the majestic stadium, at what had been a symbol of freedom and strength for so many years…and knew it for the grave that it turned out to be. “…And the Home…of the…Brave!” The last things Electra heard were the popping of several thousand balloons and the cheerful, delighted screams of the fans, some twenty-five thousand people…all the walking dead.