Date: Thu, 23 Mar 2006 03:10:42 -0800 (PST)
From: CloseTheCellarDoor <closethecellardoor@yahoo.com>
Subject: Evil is a Man: The Angel Stretched Out His Hand -- chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Yup, long chapter.  Actually, there was a huge chunk of material at the
beginning of this chapter that I realized could instead fit into the
beginning of the next chapter, and I moved it accordingly.  Which means
that, believe it or not, this is by far the short version of this chapter!

Hope you manage to get through all of it.  Have fun!


CHAPTER SEVEN


When the angel stretched out his hand to destroy Jerusalem, the LORD was
grieved because of the calamity and said to the angel who was afflicting
the people, "Enough! Withdraw your hand."

2 Samuel 24:16


*****

Sam looked in the mirror as he straightened out the white, hooded robe he
was wearing and slipped the white porcelain mask on his face.

I put down my angel bible and looked over at him.  "You know, man, I'm
never going to get used to seeing you dressed like that," I told him
good-naturedly.

"That's only because your first experience with someone who was dressed
like this left a rather negative impression," he said, speaking of course
about Faith, who had recently tried to kill me.

Terrifying, traumatizing impression is more like it.

"Yes, well," Sam said to me from behind the mask.  "Now that I'm in
possession of one of these outfits, we can make all sorts of new
impressions together."

Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?

"Maybe.  But right now I'm off to tend to Justice duties.  Matters need
handling before the sun comes up.  We'll have to save the
impression-forming for later."  He turned towards the door of our temporary
bedroom.

"Hey Sam," I said.  "When are we gonna be able to move into the Inner
Circle?  I'm fucking eager for some new surroundings."

"Not immediately," Sam said.  "I'm working on an idea.  If it pans out, I
expect you and I will be leaving on a trip for some time."

A trip, huh?  Something fucking tells me we're not going to Hawaii.

"No, more of a business trip, I'm afraid," said Sam.  "If we are to be out
of here so soon, I'd rather wait to move into the Inner Circle until after
we get back.  That way I don't have to uproot you as soon as you're
settled."

"Alright, ya bastard," I said.  "I'll stick it out in this shithole room
for a little longer."

"I'm so thrilled at your sacrifice," he joked.  "Now, I'll be on my way."

After Sam left the room, I got off the bed and kneeled down on the floor,
determined to really do this pious thing right.  I closed my eyes.

Hey God.  Uh, what's happening, bro?  Just wanted to thank you for once
again being on my side in my last time of need and helping me survive the
whole ordeal.  The more I live, the more it's becoming clear to me: you got
my back.

The bedroom door swung open and Sam came rushing in, looking down at me.

"Caught you in the act," he said.  Obviously he had been reading my
thoughts even after he had left the room.

Did you come back just to embarrass me?

"More or less," he said.  "No, I couldn't be more proud."

"I figured one good prayer a day isn't so much to ask for," I said.  "So,
I'm taking after your example."

"Your prayers are even becoming more reverent, if that's possible."  He
motioned to the floor I was kneeling on.  "But this small room hardly
allows for any real piety.  I have better surroundings in mind.  Ones that
I'm sure you'll find inspirational."

You want me to come with you?

"Sure do."

I followed him out of our room.  As we walked through the halls, passing
Cherubim and their Delectors, I noticed how each one of them bowed humbly
to Sam as he passed.

A pair of Cherubim dressed in brown robes came upon us.

"Justice, my liege," one of the angels said in a Caribbean accent.  "We
have a pressing question for you."

"Go ahead and speak freely," Sam told him.

The angel nodded.  "What, my liege, should we do with the two wolves we are
holding here in our dungeons right now?" asked one of them.  "Their fate is
now your concern."

"Keep them where they are," said Sam, his Russian accent so strikingly
different from the other angel's.  "I may have some use for them."

If it was my choice, I would have just killed the two wolves.

"But my liege," said one of the Cherubim.  "It is almost full moon, and
when that night is over, they will be dead."

"Not if we feed them," Sam said.

"Feed them, my liege?  Human flesh?  That is blasphemous!"

"Calm down!" Sam told him.  "The two of them will only require one life
taken every full moon.  Go out into the inhabited world and find someone
who has committed Unforgivable Sin, these people are easy enough to
discover.  Bring one of these back to be fed to the animals.  We kill those
poor souls anyway ourselves, what difference does it make if we give them
instead to be eaten?  Make sure that the victims have been properly sedated
and are fully unconscious.  I don't want anyone to die in pain.  Is all of
this clear?"

"Yes, my liege."

"Good, that is all."

The Cherubim went off on their ways, and Sam continued walking with me.  He
finally led me into a series of doors that I had never been in before.

"This is the point where the Cherubim and their Delectors are no longer
permitted," he said as we went through a door into another hallway, driving
deeper into the structure.  At this point, Sam safely removed his mask.
"This is the beginning of the Inner Circle."

He led me into a large chapel, complete with pews, crucifixes, and statues
of Gabriel and Jesus.  It was beautiful in an antiquated way, with bright
torches and candles bathing the statues' faces in warm yellow light.

"This is the center of the Cathedral, this point of worship."

"It's awesome," I said.

"All of the Inner Circle pray here," he said.  "You are a part of the
circle now, and you have just as much claim to this room as any of them."

Alright.  I'll do my praying here from now on.

Sam pointed towards a downwards, curved staircase.  "The Inner Circle
quarters are right down there.  That's where I have business.  Why don't
you finish praying here, and meet me back in our room in time for sunrise?"

"Yup, cool Sam," I said.

He smiled at me, then turned and trotted down the stairs.

I walked forward, past the pews, thinking of what more I could find to be
grateful to God, when I noticed another presence.  A white-robed figure
kneeling at the feet of Christ.  Even though his back was to me, judging by
his grand height, it was simple enough for me to figure out which angel
this was.

I had no wish to disturb Faith or any remain in the same room with him
alone for any length of time.  I turned around, towards the doors.  I would
just have to find an alternate place to pray.

"Don't move," Faith's deep voice bellowed.  "You must be very foolish to
think that I would ever get in between you and your faith."  He turned
around to face me, his mask not present, and his royal face proud and
fierce.  "Kneel down before the Lord and give him your prayer."

I walked back up to the alter, kneeled down, and quickly mentally said a
prayer of thanks.  As soon as I have finished, Faith, who had shut his eyes
in his own prayer, opened them again and looked at me.  "This chapel is my
domain," he told me.  "I sit here each night, often seven or eight hours
straight, in uninterrupted prayer.  Do not let my presence intimidate you
away from this place.  You are as welcome here as anyone else.

"But make no mistake, Eversor," he told me, as he stood upright, towering
over me.  "I am watching you.  Never will I stop watching you.  Because of
you, a good angel has died purposelessly.  He was my brother, and his
sacrifice was not to be in vain.  Remember, you have been allowed to live
by an uncertain margin of one vote.  I must abide by that decree, but your
support here is all too tenuous.  Chastity and Fortitude always side with
me.  Charity is a fool, blinded by his pity for humanity, and your Justice
is blinded by your charms.  But Temperance is already on the fence with
you.  And Humility is as wise as they come.  If you slip up again, they
will change their minds about you.  The next vote will not be in your
favor, and you will end up sacrificed on the Seal as God intended you to
be."

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and saw another white-robed figure
ascending into the room.  His hood was down and his mask was off, and I
knew immediately by his handsome Hispanic face and black blindfold that it
was Humility.  I suddenly hoped he would come and rescue me from this
assault by Faith.

He did not come into the main part of the chapel, however.  He moved
through the doors Sam and I had come in on.  When the doors shut again,
leaving us alone, I looked back at Faith.  His fierce commanding presence
alone was enough to almost knock me off my feet.

I took a nervous step back, but summoned courage into my voice.  "Well
then, I guess I will have to watch myself," I said.  "I'm not going to
break any of my vows to Sam ever again.  I'm a new man."

He raised an eyebrow.  "That may be so.  You are trying earnestly.  And
truly, as long as you are not under any strain, I believe you will be true
to your Justice.  But a Delector is expected to give his life before
breaking his vows to his Domno, and this is what you are unable to do.
Write it off to pride, I suppose.  You truly believe now that you are able
to remain true, but you are too fatally flawed to do so.  Mark my word, it
is only a matter of time before you break your vows even more seriously
than you have already done.  When you have, all of us will know it.  This
Order only forgives once, if that much."  He turned back towards the
statue, and closed his eyes, kneeling down again in prayer.  "So, indeed,
young man, light a candle and pray.  You have more to beg the Lord for than
anyone else in this House of God.  You'd better get a hasty start."

I didn't kneel down for anymore prayer.  I got up, and walked towards the
doors.  Somehow I couldn't stop from turning back as I was leaving.  Faith
was just kneeling there, completely motionless.  I left the chapel with
chills down my spine.

Before I had gone into through the doors into the hallway, I hear a loud
crash coming from inside.  When I went through the doors, I saw Humility up
ahead.  It appeared he had just knocked over a small table and a
candleholder that had rested upon it.

"So clumsy, so clumsy," he said with his Latin accented, raspy voice that
would fit an old wise man far more than a hot, beefy young man.  He easily
put the table back up.  "But yesterday this table was on the other side of
the hall."

As I walked towards his direction, I wondered about the blindfold.  So, he
must be blind, I told myself, if he's memorized the way around, only
getting into trouble when someone moves something unexpectedly out of
place.

As I approached, he smiled when he saw me (saw me?) and waved in my
direction.  "Good day, Bradley.  Fancy seeing you around here."

I assumed he was speaking only figuratively.  He smiled coyly.

"I just came from praying," I said.  "I'm headed back to my room."

As I looked at this beautiful angel smiling his perfect white teeth at me,
I couldn't help but recall that the last time we had met, he had launched
his cum all over my eager face.

Humility blushed, apparently reading my mind.  "Perhaps instead of
returning to your abode, you would see it fit to escort an old man to the
front of the Cathedral?  I have a package that's been delivered that needs
picking up."

"Umm, okay, I guess so," I said.

He smiled.  "Splendid.  Make haste, young man, make haste."

He motioned for me to walk beside him, and I did as he requested.

"This way," he said, walking much too quick for a blind man, and a little
bit ahead of me.  I marveled at just how well the guy had this place down.
He even knew when doors were ahead, and opened the doors himself.

"Ah, were about to leave the Inner Circle," he said.

As we walked, he slipped his mask on over his blindfold and put his hood
over his hair.

Soon we were among the other Cherubim, and as they had with Sam, they were
nodding politely at Humility.

He led me to a large room near the front entrance, in which stood what
seemed to me to be an extremely large picture frame covered in brown cloth
that was tied around it with string.  Four Delectors milled about the
package.

"Here it is, finally," Humility said.  "Marvelous.  I am most grateful to
you all.  Now if you would be so kind to leave me alone for a moment."

All the Delectors bowed and swished out of the room, and I started to do
the same.

"Not you, Bradley, my boy," Humility said with a smile.  He removed his
mask now that it was just the two of us.  "Not you.  Come and share in the
humble joy of a new treasure found."

"Okay," I said, sticking around.

I looked at the frame as Humility approached it.  The thing stood a foot
taller than he was.  He quickly untied the string and pulled the cloth off
with some excitement.

Standing there was a gold-framed oil painting, a beautiful landscape and a
glorious sky, filled with all the bright colors of a sunrise or sunset.

"How is it?" Humility asked me.

I figured he was asking me to describe it for him.  "It's a sunrise," I
said.

"Yes," he said.  "You should see my room downstairs.  Every inch of every
wall, covered with paintings of the sun and the beautiful sky.  It's my one
vanity, my one luxury.  The only one I'll allow myself.

"I've always had a passion for such likenesses of the sun.  I wasn't always
such a night person you see.  No, that particular trait was imposed upon
me.  When I was just a man, I rose early enough each day to watch the
sunrise, and spent as much time as weather permitted out in the warmth of
the sun.  I miss that more than anything.  But pictures like this certainly
do help."

He looked at the painting, carefully going over every detail.  "Rich
colors, this one.  I found it for sale in a shop in Jerusalem, and had the
Cherubim fetch it for me.  It's more beautiful even than I remember."

It was as if he could actually see the damn thing, which I knew was
impossible.

He chuckled.  "I suppose you're wondering how I can see with this cloth
wrapped around my eyes?"

"The question had crossed my mind," I admitted.

"If any question crosses your mind in the future, feel free to ask it," he
said.  "There is no need to ever fear insulting or offending my ego."

"Alright," I said.  "So what's the deal, then?"

"I must confess that I've been up to a certain amount of good-natured
joking at your expense," he told me.  "I've found your confusion quite
amusing."

He began to unwrap the blindfold, which he did slowly and carefully until
all that remained were his closed eyes.  Then he opened his eyelids, but
instead of a pair of eyes looking back at me, there was nothing but a
vacant space.

"Jesus!" I said.

He smiled.  "I don't mean to alarm you," he said, shutting his eyes and
rewrapping his blindfold.  "You can understand why I keep this on.

"You see, as you must have realized from my blindfold, I am completely
blind.  Yet, like any other angel, I can see through the minds of men like
you.  As long as there is a pair of willing eyes to see for me, I can
operate just fine.  It's only when I'm alone that I suffer with my
disability."

"How long have you been like that?" I asked.

"Well, and this was many years ago, keep in mind.  I had been caught away
from the Cathedral in the desert past sunrise, which for an angel means you
must either change to stone or burn to death in the sunlight, as you
already know."

"Yeah," I said, remembering how Sam's hand had burned so quickly in the sun
in that motel room, and how he had turned to marble on the way to the
Cathedral to save himself from burning.

"Well," he went on, "I was outside all day long, unable to open my eyes to
find the way back to cover, completely stuck out there until sunset.  I sat
down and waited for the sun to finish its course, and I was extremely
fatigued.  It's not comfortable for an angel to remain in their stone form
during the daytime, or to even stay awake.  I was a little delirious,
perhaps, in an odd state.  I told you before that I always had a
fascination with the sunlight.  And at that time, there was an odd
excitement running through my veins because I knew the sun was all over me,
bathing my skin in warm light as it had done so many times in the years
before I became an angel, when I was still wingless.  And then, melancholy
took hold of my soul, for I knew the sun was upon me, and yet, with
callous, stone skin, I could not feel it, and with my closed eyes, I could
not see it either."

He shook his head, perhaps some of the melancholy still with him after all
this time.  "I don't know what I was thinking.  What a destructive impulse
that was.  I think it began with me starting to cry.  Looking back now, I
can't believe how self-pitying I must have been.  I began to cry at my
miniscule loss of the sunshine and all of the rich colors it renders on the
world, a world I only could know in darkness.  And then, I did it.  I don't
know if it was a reaction to the tears or just my foolishness.  I opened my
eyes."  He smiled slightly, a sad smile.  "It took only a second for my
eyes to be gone forever, and the other angels had to come and find me in
the desert, or else I would have never found my way back."

"Wow, that's really terrible," I said.  "So now what?  You never leave the
Cathedral?"

"No," he said.  "I can still operate at my full capacity if someone lends
me a pair of eyes.  The other Seraphim grant me access to their vision when
I'm with them.  When I'm not, I've always relied on my Delectors to give me
their vision.  Human sight may be only a fraction of what an angel can see,
but it's better than being blind."

"So, you must take your Delector everywhere then," I said, feeling jealous.
Sam so often left me behind when he was working.

"Most of the time, yes.  But Yann is beyond the age now where he can
accompany me.  In fact, in his old age, he has too grown blind."  He looked
away, sadly.  "We have become the literal incarnations of the old idiom,
the blind leading the blind."

"That really suck, man," was all I could think to say.

"So, Bradley," Humilty said.  "I had an ulterior motive for asking you in
here, I'm afraid.  I have a request to make, if you would be so kind as to
humor an old man's frivolous wishes."

"What is it?" I asked hesitantly.

"Seeing as it is near sunrise, I'm going to ask you to do something for me
Yann used to do every night, before his health made it impossible to do
so."

I shook my head.  "Look, man," I said.  "You're really hot and everything,
but I got Sam to think about here, and I'm trying hard to stick to my
vows."

Humility chuckled.  "You always have one thing on the brain, don't you,
young man?" he asked me.  "No, it's not that at all.  When I leave for bed,
I want you to go outside for me, into the desert.  And, when the sun rises,
I want to you look at it.  Look at the white disk climbing over the
horizon.  The dark sky turning slowly to that beautiful blue, that blue
that I miss so much.  And look at the world show its real, vivid self to
you, not the pale, ghostly one it shows during the night.  And I will be
watching through your eyes as I drift off to what will surely be happy
dreams.  Would you do that for me, Bradley?  Just this one time?"

I shrugged.  "Sure man, it's no skin off my back.  Anytime you want it, you
just have to ask."

He smiled, extremely pleased and quite touched as he thanked me profusely.

Another robed Seraph swept into the room.  He took off his mask, and I saw
it was Sam.  "Humility, I see you found my Delector," he said happily.  "I
hope you are putting him to good use."

"He does have a knack for coming in handy, doesn't he?" asked Humility.
"Bradley was helping me look at my new painting."

Sam whistled as he checked out the huge painting in front of us.  "Quite
remarkable."  He said.  "Impressionistic, isn't it?"

"Yes, isn't it something?"

"And of sun and sky, what better representations could there be for an
angel to see?  I'm afraid I have a certain bizarre fascination with those
visuals."

Humility laughed.  "Well, Justice, you and I share that vice.  I was just
explaining to Bradley how my fascination bordered on the obsession."

"Mine as well, I must admit," Sam said.  "It's desiring what we know we can
no longer have."

"Yes, precisely."

"Of course," Sam said, "I don't have an eight foot painting of the sun
hanging on any of my walls.  Don't yet have any wall decorations with me,
in fact."

"Really?" Humility said excitedly.  "Well, I hate to play the enabler in
this case, but why don't you take this one for yourself?"

"Oh, nonsense," Sam said.  "I could not take your painting."

"I have dozens of them already hanging in my room, Justice.  No, I insist.
We can't have your new walls bare.  Consider it a humble welcome gift from
yours truly."

"Well, I don't know how to thank you.  But thank you indeed."

Humility smiled.  "I will have this moved into your new bedroom," Humility
said.  "But now I can feel the sun will be rising soon, and I am eager for
bed.  Goodnight, both of you.  Bradley, thanks again."

When he had left, Sam playfully messed up my hair.  "You certainly are
making friends quickly," he said.

"You wouldn't say that if you had overheard the conversation I just had
with Faith."

Sam laughed.  "Oh?  Let's discuss it as we walk back to the bedroom.
Sunrise approaches."

I remembered my promise to Humility.  "I'll come and join you later in the
morning," I said.

"Alright," he told me as he started to head out.  "I'll keep the bed warm
for you."

"Oh, and Sam," I asked.

"Yes?"

You might want to telepathically look through my eyes as you fall asleep
this morning.

He laughed.  "I'll be sure to do that.  See you soon."

He walked away, and I went outside and out into the desert.

The sky was already a pale blue color, and I looked up at it, knowing that
Humility would be watching.

I eventually laid down in the sand, looking up at the sky.  The sun came up
slowly, and even though I was more than a little antsy sitting there,
totally inactive like that, I fought through my boredom.

The sunrise was beautiful, and the sky was a rich royal blue without a
cloud in the sky.

I stared at it all, almost afraid to blink, and although I wasn't psychic,
I knew that somewhere, a very old man was entirely delighted.

*****

 "Bradley," Sam said to me in our bedroom a couple days later with a more
serious than usual look in his face.  "I need to ask you a very important
question."

"A very important question, huh?" I asked him.  "You almost sound like
you're about to fucking propose."

He smiled.  "I do have a proposition for you," he said.  "One that
fortunately does not involve me getting down on bended knee.  And there is
far more danger involved than your typical wedding."

I brightened instantly.  "Oooo, some excitement, huh?" I asked, already
getting excited about it myself.  I knew he must have been considering
taking me along on some mission of his.  "Sounds like fun!  I'm in!"  It
would be a break from the monotony of the Cathedral, as well as a chance to
finally get some much needed alone time with Sam.

Sam shook his head.  "You can't agree to a proposition until you've heard
it."

"Hmm," I said, thinking about it.  "Would I be in danger?"

"Some amount, yes," he said.  "But I've planned things so carefully that I
am quite certain no harm will come to you.  You're safety is always my top
priority."

Will I get a chance to use my strengths?

He nodded.  "Most definitely.  You'll be lying, cheating, and deceiving,
your strongest faculties."

Very true.  So it'll be something covert then.  Will I be doing something
substantial?

"Yes," he said, with a grave seriousness.  "Your contribution has a chance
of really making a difference this time."

"Wow, that's fucking hard to believe," I said, completely unused to me
being of any importance at all.  "Okay, last question.  Do you want me to
do this mysterious thing?"

Sam nodded.  "Yes, I do," he said.

Then there is no question.  If you want me to do it, then I will.  I have
complete faith in your decision-making.  You tell me exactly what you want
me to do, when you want me to do it, and it will be done.

He put his hand on my cheek and looked at me hard in the eye, a smile
breaking through his seriousness.  "Good.  Good!  Then I am free to pursue
this."

*****

"Solum Dum prae oculis," Faith chanted to mark the beginning of the
meeting.  "You have called us to this Conclave, Justice," he said, looking
resolutely at Sam.  "Tell us what purpose you have to do so, and why you
would allow a Delector into this place."

We were in another round room in the inner circle, only this one was
smaller than most, and contained just one furnishing of significance: a
large, seven-sided table.  It was made of dark wood and was much taller
than most, coming up to my sternum.  The Seraphim stood around the table,
each of them with a side to themselves, all of them dressed in their white
robes but free of the white masks.

I stood against the wall, behind Sam, slumped down in the darkness, trying
not to make a spectacle of myself.  Faith was already annoyed enough that I
had been brought along to this meeting that is traditionally reserved only
for the top angels themselves.

"I bring him because the matters I call to your attention today have as
much impact on him as they do on any of the rest of us," Sam said calmly to
Faith and to everyone.

"If he should speak-" Faith began.

"He knows that he is here only to listen," Sam cut him off before he could
even begin.  He tossed newspapers down on the table, one in front of each
of them, all different editions.  "They're all recent," he said.  "Look at
the headlines.  `Global murder epidemic reaches epidemic proportions,'" he
read off the one in front of him.  He looked at another: "`Rise in
worldwide disappearances baffle authorities.'  They're all the same.  The
people are suffering.  They see a problem, but cannot see the cause.  So
far, no one has discerned that disappearances spike on a monthly basis,
right around the full moon.  The wolves and the demons haven't been this
out of control for a thousand years."

He looked around the table, giving anyone a chance to speak.  Nobody did.

He continued: "As the new Justice, I came here with a certain level of
expectation about the work being done here.  I've always strongly believed
that the role God intended for us was one of action, not of passivity.  As
a Guardian, I was the one defender standing in between many poor souls and
the brink of a black eternity.  As a Power, I was the crusader of truth and
righteousness.  It only followed that as Justice, as one of the seven
Seraphim, I would act with an ever gaining worth.

"Instead, I find myself a part of a governing body that is largely
ineffectual and passive."

Discontent seemed to break out among the other angels amid some voices of
protest.

"Let me have my say!" Sam told them.  "None of you are weak.  In truth,
most if not all of you are probably more strong willed than myself.  But
instead of using the power God has bestowed on you to affect change, change
for angels as well as for humanity, many of you waste it on trivial
pursuits.  Faith and Chastity spend all of their time and resources losing
themselves in pious reflection and personal sacrifice, pursuits certainly
fitting for a monk, but of absolutely no use to the flock they purport to
shepherd."

"Unbelievable!" shrieked Chastity, the Asian angel covered with nails.

"We should not expect anything less than ignorance from the young," Faith
said calmly.

"My ears burn at the sound of his voice!" Chastity added.

"Let me finish!" Sam said.  "Please, let me speak!  Faith and Chastity are
not the only ones to blame.  Fortitude, who is so rarely given anything to
do by anyone else, sits around here collecting dust."

Fortitude, the hulking middle-eastern angel who I never heard speak a word,
showed no sign of reaction to this insult, remaining as still as a statue.

Sam went on.  "As do Temperance and Humility, who both show some ingenuity
towards a global consciousness, but seemed to have given up on fighting the
status quo many years prior."

Temperance, the young-looking, punk-ish angel that I did not know at all,
merely gave Sam a slightly amused half smile.  Humility, however, looked
somewhat hurt.  He had shown so much kindness to me recently that I kinda
felt bad for the dude.  But Sam was right, Humility was a nice guy, but so
far had shown no sign to me that he had any strength.  The guy was a
cripple, for Christsake.

Sam settled his gaze upon Charity.  "It is only this green one who has
shown any real spark.  Charity has done more for humanity in his few
decades as an angel than some of the rest of you have done in a century."

"The Seraphim have always been simple, modest creatures," Humility said.
"It's all we knew how to do."

"It's time for a change," Sam said.  "Instead of rotting away here in the
Cathedral, we should be going out and fighting for our God."

"The Cathedral is God's gift to us," said Faith, pounding his fist on the
table.  "It is our only sanctuary.  Our way is to stay hidden, separate
from the world's rumblings and shakings, separate from the passage of time.
We are the eternals, we do not dirty our hands with such filth.  As the
leaders of our flock, our duty is not to meddle in the ways of mankind.
Our duty is to lead them back into the light of Heaven.  What better way to
do that then to remain here, tied to the holiest ground on Earth, and pray
to God for His forgiveness?"

Sam shook his head.  "He will not forgive us through idleness.  God helps
those who help themselves, does he not?  We angels are God's tools, his
limbs, and we should act upon this world, to brighten it, to raise it up,
even if it means putting our lives at danger.  This is the only way God
will let us back into Heaven."

"No," Faith said.  "God already let us know the only way he would let us
back into Heaven.  The Seal is the one and only true path."

"Yes, the Seal!" squealed Chastity.

"The Seal," Humility said in disgust.  "Can't you see it for what it really
is?  A useless diversion!"

"Heresy!" screamed Chastity.

"Why would God ever create such an obscure pass back into Heaven?" asked
Humility.

"I do not pretend to understand the complexities of God's brilliant plan,
and you Humility, more than any of us, should be sufficiently humble of
it," Faith said calmly but commandingly.  "Many of the doctrines and
beliefs that we know as truths upon critical examination seem esoteric and
random to us.  It is the true believer who in spite of it all accords God
the faith He deserves."

"But we don't even know if the Seal's instructions were properly recorded
or translated," Humility said.

"We wouldn't even be having this discussion if the Heretic had died!"
Chastity said, pointing at me.  "We would be back in Heaven by now."

"Only, the instructions are more than a little vague on whether or not it's
even necessary to kill the sacrificed," Humility said.

"Oh, it's necessary!" said Faith.  "Who ever heard of sacrifice without
killing?"

"All that I'm saying is that I have a right to be suspicious of something
that clearly tells us the irresistible prize, then is amazingly cryptic on
how this prize is aquired!" Humility said.

"The Seal must be a sham," Temperance said, finally speaking up.  "A myth
passed down through the Seraphim, but nothing more."

"More blasphemy!" Chastity said, recoiling.

"Dude, get a clue," Temperance told him.  "The Seal isn't mentioned
anywhere in our Scripture, which means questioning its validity is in no
way going against God."

"He's right," Charity, the blonde mustached dude with the slick 70's
wardrobe, said.  "All the Seal has ever done for us is to distract us with
dreams of grandeur."

"Possibly the Seal was planted by the devil himself, the only temptress
that could turn our heads, the chance to go home," Sam said.  "We cannot
waste anymore of our time trying to uncover its mysteries."

"We've already established that the Seal, at least until the vote shifts,
is unbreachable," Faith said.  "So, why exactly have you called this
Conclave, Justice?  If you want to go out and be a hero, then you will do
so, as long as you are acting with accordance with your Virtue.  You cannot
force anyone else in this Order to follow suit.  Everyone is responsible
for their own jurisdiction, to carry it out as they see fit."

"Unless we are to vote here on some unilateral action," Sam said.  "If we
vote, the minority must adhere to the opinions of the majority."

"Fine," Faith said.  "What would you have us vote upon?"

"As Justice, my responsibility requires me to lead the angels into a
preemptive strike against our enemies before they attack us and destroy us
altogether."

"We don't need to strike," Faith said.  "God will protect us.  He always
had."

"God has protected the Seraphim here," Sam said.  "But Cherubim are lost
all the time to the wrath of the demons.  The Ensis itself was violated by
the human organization known as the Bridge.  And the wolves, though not a
threat to our kind, preys upon the innocent lives of the people we've been
created to protect.  I propose an organized attack upon all three of these
enemies, led by myself, as Justice is what we will bring to these wayward
evildoers.  Once their scourge is wiped clean from the earth, the rest of
you will be unencumbered and fully able to transform the people towards
whatever goals you see suitable.

"The first phase of my attack would be aimed at the group who has cleverly
escaped notice as a player in this global war.  The Bridge, who, even
without an Eversor to galvanize them, has taught all of its agents how to
conceal their thoughts from our minds.  Who has told its agents that we are
vulnerable during the day.  Who has shown its agents where our Ensis is
located.  They might not be able to see through our cloaking right away,
but they know what to look for, and with enough looking, anyone can see the
truth.  This organization is more widespread and far reaching than even
that of the demons, and has chosen us angels as its primary mark.  All of
its members are complicit with the murders of hundreds of angels, therefore
none of them are innocents.  I say we go in and destroy their mechanisms
from within as our first and long overdue move in this war we are in
whether you like it or not."

"But that can't work," Humilty said.  "They are the largest such
organization in the world, with a network that stretches to almost every
major city.  There must be a hundred times as many of them are there are
angels to fight them."

"No, you're right," said Sam.  "We cannot begin to hope that we would have
a chance against them with our few numbers.  That is why we must, as
unfortunate as this may sound, ally ourselves with the demons."

"Impossible!" shouted Chastity, and the rest of the table seemed equally
appalled.

"Just for a short time!" Sam said.  "If we can convince the demons to join
us in this crusade, together we would have the numbers to wipe the Bridge
clean off of the earth.  Making a pact with the demons is unavoidable.
After we have eliminated the Bridge, we will of course turn our attention
against the demons.  It is only through a temporary pact with the devil
that God's bidding can be done.  If the result is greater good, then God
could not be unsupportive of our actions."

"Yes, he could be," Faith said.  "Our actions will be judged as easily as
our results."

"Besides," Humilty said.  "The Bridge has cells all over the world that
neither we nor the demons know about.  Killing the few members we can find
will do us little good.  The organization has to be eliminated in its
entirety or not at all."

Sam smiled.  "That, my brothers, is where Bradley comes in," he said, and I
perked up, listening carefully.  "He is the Eversor.  If the Bridge found
him, they would accept him without resistance.  All of their information,
the locations of all their bases, all their defenses, all of it would be at
his disposal.  He has agreed to help us.  He will go in undercover and find
us the information we need.  And then, the seven of us will each lead a
battalion of Cherubim into different bases.  And the demons will take care
of the rest.  It will be a well-planned, synchronized attack, killing them
all at the same moment."

"You're suggesting sending a Delector into the lions den without his
Domno?" Humility asked.  "How can he hope to survive without you?"

"He won't have to," Sam told him.  "I will be there the entire time,
cloaked of course."

I was very relieved to hear that.  As fun as this espionage stuff sounded,
without Sam there to guide me it just wasn't possible.

"Well," said Humility.  "It certainly COULD work."

"It WILL work," Sam said.  "So now, I need for us to vote.  I ask that you
vote for me to lead our Flock into battle against our enemies as I see fit.
I also ask to give me your full discretion on strategic decisions against
our enemies.  As Justice, both of these powers should naturally be mine.
What about the rest of you?  Will you side with God's action, or will you
side with sloth?"

Faith shook his head.  "What you have proposed is entirely against God's
way.  If we have a qualm about the way this world is, then we should
approach the problem with faith.  Pray to the Lord to show us a miracle and
grant us the changes He wants Himself.  We cannot go gallivanting around
off like American cowboys, killing who we please and writing it off to
God's larger plan.  We cannot ever assume that we know and understand what
God's plan even is.  We must vote down this insanity and keep things the
way they have been for many centuries.  My vote is no."

"I concur completely," said Chastity.

Sam looked towards Temperance, who was already stroking his goatee in heavy
thought.  "Temperance?  Your vote?"

"I say, hell yes.  I'm with you all the way, baby.  Let's lay it on those
suckers while the laying's good."

Sam smiled.  He looked at Charity.  "Will you vote with me, Charity?"

Charity fixed his steely eyes upon Sam.  "Do you honestly believe, Justice,
that this bloodshed will lead to the greater good of the true children of
God?"

"Yes, I honestly do," Sam told him.  "Once the Bridge and the evil races
are gone, we will no longer have anything to fear.  We will be free to make
ourselves known to man, to guide him and support him as we should be
doing."

Charity paused for a moment.  "Then I will support this move.  And I will
fight alongside you," he said.

Sam smiled sweetly at Charity, then looked towards Humility.

"I know, it's my turn to put my word in," Humility said.  "History would
dictate that I vote yes here.  But I'm not going to.  I cannot rightfully
condone such a haphazard course of action.  I know you've thought all of
this through very carefully, Justice.  But there could be factors here that
are beyond our ability to predict, and those factors, once acted upon such
a massive effort, could have catastrophic side effects here.  I cannot
brazenly agree to endanger the lives of so many angels, as well as your
Delector, who is becoming quite special to me.  So, I respectfully say
`no.'"

Sam nodded appreciatively at the blindfolded man and turned towards
Fortitude.

"I'm not sure if you even need to ask him," Faith told Sam.

"Fortitude, your vote?" Sam asked anyway.

The giant looked right at Sam in the eye.

A few seconds later, the whole table seemed suddenly shocked.

"You can't be serious," Chastity yelled at the man.  "Eager to lay down the
`wrath of God' upon our enemies?  All you are eager to do is to bloody your
hands!"

Oh, even though I had yet to hear him speak, I was really starting to like
this Fortitude guy.  Not only was he the biggest, strongest angel, he was
willing to bust some ass.  He was a doer, not a discusser, and that I
admired.

"Enough!" said Faith.  "There it is, then, Justice.  I hope you are pleased
with yourself.  Your second victorious vote.  But don't think that this
grants you permanent free-license to do as you please.  If at any time this
Order becomes dissatisfied with your actions, we will re-vote to have you
stopped.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, very much so," Sam answered.  "Thanks to all of you for your support.
I promise you, I will not let you down."

"I fear that you are right," Faith said.  "And I fear that we have just
taken a step that we can never go back upon.  For better or worse, the
angels have just entered this Holy war.  Let us pray that we will be
victorious.  For if we fail, we will all die for it."

*****

"Let go of my hand," Sam told me, as the two of us walked through the busy
streets of Cairo.

Let go?

I resisted, knowing the separation would leave me vulnerable.

"Yes, let go," Sam said patiently.

I did, and for the first time since we had come to this city, I was in
everyone's plain sight.  I was not particularly noticeable; there were a
lot of white tourists here that looked more or less like I did.  Sam was
somewhat more conspicuous in his long black jacket.

Sam led me towards a man who looked more like the locals, only a good deal
more handsome than most, and in a suit that most of the people here
couldn't afford.  He was standing on the sidewalk, looking out at the
street vacantly.

"Demon, I need your attention," Sam told the man when he neared him.

The demon, quickly becoming animated, looked at Sam and smiled.  "Well,
what a pleasant surprise, angel.  Tell me, what will it be this time that
keeps us from killing you and your boytoy where you stand?  Are you here to
make another deal?"  He smiled hopefully.  "The last one was so much fun."

"You weren't there in London," Sam said, confused.

The demon shrugged.  "No, but news travels fast between us."

"You will not harm me or my friend, demon," Sam said, "because this street
is crowded, and you do not want yourself to be known."

"We always clean up our messes," the demon said, with a sinister sneer.
Clearly he was suggesting killing all witnesses.

"In this case, the mess would be too great for even you to get away with,"
Sam said.

The demon's smile faded.  "You're starting to bore me, angel.  Get on with
it."

"I want to speak to your leader," Sam said.  "I need to talk to whoever has
authority over your entire race."

"Lucky you," the demon said.  "Here I am, the King of the Vampires, in the
flesh."

Sam looked him up and down.  "You are not their king.  You were just a
random demon I picked off the street."

"Maybe not," the demon answered.  "But I speak for my entire brood."

"You have the authority to make decisions that would concern all of them?"
Sam asked doubtfully.

"Indeed," the demon said.  "Now, tell me, what proposition can you possibly
have that would concern my entire species?"

"A joint venture, between the angels and the demons."

The demon's face lit up.  "You want to join us in a fight against the
wolves?  Oh, I am absolutely tickled."

"No," Sam said.  "Not against the wolves.  We angels have no wish to enter
your war."

The demon's smile dropped fast.  "Then, why on earth would you have us work
together?"

"To take out the Bridge."

"The Bridge?" the demon asked.

"Yes.  A planned, simultaneous attack on all of their bases.  You'd cover
most of the world with your prodigious numbers.  We'd cover the areas that
you are most thin in.  Europe, perhaps."

"Ah yes," said the demon, laughing to himself.  "You're entire population
is what, a thousand?  Maybe less?  Nothing more than a drop in the bucket.
If the Bridge is taken out, it will be executed by us vampires, without
your useless assistance."  He suddenly looked vindictive.  "You think you
can kill one of my strongest and then come to me and barter with an empty
hand?"

I knew he must have been talking about the demon Sam and I had recently
plucked from a moving limo in South Africa.

"Yes, we killed your man," Sam said.  "But you have killed many of us.  If
we worked together, we could make a pact not to harm each other, at least
until the job is done."

"But, for Godsake, how could we possibly benefit from your assistance?  We
have been working on infiltrating the Bridge for years."

"Because," said Sam coolly.  "You see my boytoy here at my side?  Well,
he's really so much more than that."

The demon's eyes glanced towards me, looking at me for really the first
time.  I stood rigid, trying my best to look tough.

"Oh yeah?" the demon said, snidely.  "He doesn't just blow you?  What, does
he do housework too?  Answer the telephone and type a hundred words a
minute?"  He smiled at me.  "Or maybe he takes it up the ass and begs for
more?  Well, angel, you are right.  I DO need his help.  I should borrow
him from you."  He rubbed his side against mine, squeezing my arm with a
painfully tight grip.  I tried to shake him off of me, but he was too
strong.

"He's the Eversor, demon," Sam said.

"The what?"

"The One!  The Gifted!"

There was a moment then when understanding passed before the demon and a
look of terrible hate consumed his composed face, and with my arm still in
his grasp, it seemed to me that he would likely rip it out of its socket.
Instead, he let me go altogether and took a step back, that wry smile once
again returning.  "Well, well, well," the demon said.  "The next Gifted.
What on Earth are you doing with such company, angel?"

"It was more luck that I found him more than anything else."

He looked at Sam.  "Very well," said the demon.  "I accept your offer of
the Gifted to me.  I will take him and use him as I please.  And in return,
I will let you angels in on my plans against the Bridge."

Sam shook his head.  "I am not offering him as a gift to you!  I will not
give him away just to have you kill him!"

The demon smiled, sizing up my body with his eyes.  "Who said anything
about killing?"

"No, absolutely not," Sam said.  "The Eversor is mine.  He will not be
taken by you, and he will in no way be harmed by your kind.  That is in no
way negotiable.  Understand?"

"If you're not going to give him to me, you should kill him on your own,"
the demon said.  "He is too dangerous to live."

"I will do no such thing, and neither will you.  In return, he will play a
part for us in this.  He has agreed to infiltrate the Bridge.  To help us
destroy it from within."

"Delicious," the demon said.  "This could be just the opening I've been
waiting for.  Look, let me make a few phone calls."

"To your King?" Sam asked him.

"Sure," the demon said.  "I'll meet you back here in an hour."

"Not here," Sam said.  "Over there, across the street, in that cafe."

"Ah, where there is even more of a crowd," the demon said.

"The stakes have been upped," Sam responded.  "I need to feel secure."

"Would it make you feel better if I promised that I will not harm your
puppet here?  Swear to God?"

Sam laughed.  "I would not put much faith in any promise YOU made to the
Almighty."

"Then how bout this," he said, crossing his heart.  "Cross my heart and
hope to die?  Stick a thousand needles in my eye?"

"Just meet me in the cafe," Sam said.  "The Gifted is hungry.  Even puppets
need food, apparently," Sam said sarcastically.

"Deal."

*****

An hour later, after forcing myself to eat a meal of overly-flavored,
overly spiced Egyptian food, the demon joined us at our table, all slime
and grins.

"Alright, angel," the demon said.  "You have a deal."

Sam looked pleased.  "Until our business is through, your kind will bring
no harm against us angels or the Gifted.  We, in turn, will do nothing
against you."

"Yes, fine," said the demon.  "You have our word."

"Then it's settled," Sam said.

"You are quite lucky that you came to me about this," the demon said.  "You
don't know how much help I can be."

"How so?" asked Sam.

"For quite some time now, we've had a double agent inside the Bridge," the
demon said with pure pride.

"A man?  Inside?  Who is it?"

"That's not for you to know," the demon said.

"Well, if you have someone on the inside, why do we need to send the Gifted
in at all?" asked Sam.

"Because our operative has a low level security clearance," the demon said.
"Without access to most of their classified information, such as the
locations of all the bases.  Without a higher security clearance we know
very little.  The Gifted is the heart of this organization.  He would be
granted the highest security clearance without question."

"So, what the hell am I suppose to do?" I asked.  "Look up the locations of
all the bases and give you a call?"

"No," said the demon.  "You will be given high clearance, but you will in
no way be able to research all the information we need fast enough, or have
anyway to remember all of it and recite it all without arousing suspicion.
Months ago, we developed a tool to aid us in case our operative was finally
promoted to the highest clearance level.  It's a computer virus."

"A virus?" asked Sam.

"Yes," the demon said.  "I don't know how much you angels know about
computers."

"Very little, I'm afraid," Sam answered.

"I don't know all that much beyond the basic stuff," I said, suddenly
realizing that if hacking were to be involved, we'd be much better off if
my cousin Tyler were in my shoes instead of me.

"You don't have to.  Once you are inside," the demon said, looking at me,
"my operative will get to you a disk.  You need to take that disk, go to
one of their computers, log in with your password onto the highest security
level, and download the program that is on this disk onto your network
space.  Then run the program.  Destroy the disk, and that's it, that's all
you have to do."

"Okay," I said.

The demon smiled.  "The worm will give us backdoor access to their computer
systems, sending us all their files one piece at a time.  All of their
security codes, the locations of their bases, their personnel, all of it
will be ours.  It's the information we will need to attack and destroy
them."

"So," Sam said, "as soon as the Gifted loads this program, we'll review the
collected information, and plan our joint attack.  I don't want him in
there for any longer than necessary."

"Not quite so fast," the demon said.  "The worm operates very slowly, so as
not to cause a noticeable bandwidth delay or disturb vector counts.  Both
technobabble ways of saying we'd get caught.  The virus would be destroyed
before it was finished sending us its files, and they could easily trace
the virus back to the Gifted.  So, the worm operates slowly, so as to avoid
any detection.  It will take eight days before it has completed sending us
its files, and no less."

"Eight days?" I asked.  "I'll have to wait around for eight days?"

"On the ninth day, we'll make our attack," the demon said.  "You must not
arouse their suspicion until then.  After we invade the branch you are in,
you will be free to go."

"We'll set explosives in each of the branches to destroy all of the proof
of our existence," Sam said.

"Of course," said the demon.  "There will be almost no human left alive who
knows of us.  And any of those who do would have no proof.  They would
never be believed.  The press will likely just attribute the bombings to a
well-planned terrorist attack."

"Now we just have to figure out how he gets inside," Sam said.  "Of course,
he can't just go knocking on the door of a secret organization.  He will
have to be picked up by them."  Sam took a deep breath.  "It was my plan to
put him in a place where he would likely be noticed by them.  Have him
spout all sorts of truths that only a Gifted would know.  Things that the
general public would just write off as delusions of another crazy street
person.  And wait for them to come and get him."

God, I didn't know if I liked that part of the plan.

"As far as I know, their biggest base is in LA," the demon said.  "He will
have the best chance of being noticed there.  It is nearby Grand Central
Station, and a lot of their agents commute through there.  That would be
his best chance of getting their attention."

"Yes," Sam said.  "Then it's all taken care of."

"Not quite, I'm afraid," the demon said.  "There's one little problem
here."

"Yes, what is it?"

"My kind has been pushed out of the west coast of the US.  Any attempt to
enter LA on our part would be met with strict resistance by the wolves.  We
will not be able to attack the LA base."

Sam shrugged.  "That's no problem.  I'll take on the LA base myself with a
battalion of angels.  Wolves are of no concern to us."

"No.  We need all of the angel support we can get in Europe.  You will not
have enough numbers to take on their largest American base by yourself."
He shook his head.  "In fact, LA is just the tip of the iceberg.  What
about all the other parts of the world where wolves now rule?  They now
have the entire west coast, including Canada and Mexico.  They have all of
Europe, save for London and St. Petersburg.  They have more and more in
eastern Asia, and all of Australia.  And angels are fucking useless during
the day.  If we are to carry out a simultaneous, global attack, we need
plenty of forces who operate at full during the daytime.  Face the facts,
we cannot do this unless all three of the races unite."

Sam shook his head.  "Get the wolves in on it too?  That's what you're
asking?"

The demon smiled, that was his answer.

Sam scoffed.  "The wolves are enmeshed in a bitter war with your kind for
centuries.  What leads you to believe they will ever willingly enter into a
truce with their sworn enemies?"

"Well, you and I are here talking, aren't we?" he asked.

Sam shook his head.  "That's because your kind and my kind, although we may
serve different masters, we are built with the same dispassionate, logical
cunning.  The wolves are their own breed, one that is ruled by their
volatile emotions.  How do you propose we reason with them?"

The demon shrugged.  "That's your wrinkle to iron," he said, scribbling
down a number on a napkin.  "That's my cellphone.  Call me only when you
are certain you have obtained the wolves full cooperation."

"And what if they refuse?" asked Sam.

"Then no deal," the demon said, starting to get up.  "This is more
important to you than to me."

"How do you figure?  The death of the Bridge will help us all out."

The demon shook his head.  "Even without your help, it's only a matter of
time before my agent reaches a higher clearance level.  When that happens,
I'll just hold out until the wolves have been eliminated before wiping the
Bridge out.  Or maybe, if I can find a way, I'll have my agent sabotage all
of the Bridge's attacks on us vampires, and assist in those against the
wolves and the angels.  The Bridge knows that your headquarters are in
Russia, do they not?"

Sam looked at the demon with what could almost have been wrath, if I knew
Sam wasn't capable of such an emotion.  "I'll call you soon.  You can bet
on it."

He stood up, put his hand on Sam's shoulder as he walked past, and bent
down to whisper in his ear, "I'll be waiting by my phone."

He turned to me, winked, and was on his way.

After Sam watched the demon go, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
"Well, Bradley," he said.  "Looks like this operation just got a lot more
complicated."

What now?  Off to find a werewolf?

He took off his shades and rubbed his eyes.  "There aren't any in this
city.  In this whole continent, really."

Where will we go?

"We know that they are in LA," he said.  "Since that's our ultimate
destination now anyway, we might as well go back."

Back to your old place?

"Yup.  The old stomping ground."

Just you and me?

"For now, anyway."

I smiled.

It can't get much better than that, can it?

He squeezed my hand with his and smiled, letting his apprehensions melt
away.  "Nope, I guess not," he said.

*****

"Oh my God, please, no, please God, no, no, NO!!"

It was the most pitiful cry of terror I had ever heard in my life.  And it
came from the first wolf we had found out there in the LA streets the first
night after we had settled back in to Sam's old apartment.  Sam had just
meant to talk to one of the wolves and ask for an audience with their
leader.

The guy with the scruffy brown beard didn't even believe Sam at first when
he told him he was an angel.

"Oh yeah, cool mate," the guy had said with a rough Australian accent.

"I'm one of the highest order of angels," Sam said.

He laughed.  "Oh, ya don't say?" he asked.  "Like maybe, an archangel?"

"You could say that, yes."

He laughed again, louder.  "Ah, right, buddy.  What are you doing down on
Earth then?  Have you come to tell me that I've been immaculately
impregnated or something like that?"

Sam sighed.  "I don't have time for disbelief and bad jokes," he said.  He
pointed my way.  "It wasn't long ago that I had to go through all of that
with this guy."  He whipped off his jacket, and out came his wings.  "So,
mister wolf, do you believe me now?"

>From that point on, the wolf went utterly mad with panic.  "You's one of
em bat-thingies, ain't ya?" he asked.  "Like the one that killed Hadrian?"
After a slight moment when he must have been considering staying to fight,
he turned tail and started to run away from us.  "Holy shit!" he yelled as
he bolted down the street.

Sam and I had to chase him in the air until Sam had him cornered in an
alleyway where he was idiotically trying to hide.  Sam landed, and the guy
went buck wild, crying and begging for mercy.

It took a lot of soothing before Sam had him calmed down enough to believe
that we meant him no harm.  Sam told him he only wanted to speak with his
leader, here in LA if possible.

"The big guy?" the wolf asked.  "The head honcho?  You wanna speak with
him?"

"Yeah, can you arrange that for me?"

"Well, I don't know," he said.  "I take my orders from him, not the other
way around."

Sam wrote down his phone number on the guy's hand.  "Give that to your
leader, and have him call me."

"Okay, mate," the wolf said.  "Just please, please don't kill me."

"For now, consider yourself spared."

The wolf grinned, flashing his crooked teeth, and went off running down the
street.

Sam put his arm around me.  "Come on," he said.  "Now we wait."

*****

It only took a day before Sam got a call from someone who claimed to be the
leader of the wolves.  We were in the apartment at the time, and I listened
to every word as Sam talked to the guy.

"No, I can't do this over the phone," Sam said eventually.  "I need to talk
to you in person."

The other guy said something.  I could only hear mumbles through the phone.

"No, it has to be you, not one of your lackies."

The man said something else.

"I think you should reconsider.  Perhaps you will when I tell you this: I
have two of your wolves in captivity.  I think you're rather close to them,
perhaps?  Malcolm and Couger, I believe their names were.  Familiar?"

A dead silence from the other end.

"I was planning on killing them myself," Sam said.  "But, if you were to
help me, I may keep them alive.  At least for now."

After a moment of silence, the man said something else.

"I'm glad to hear it.  You can start by coming to meet me and my friend
underneath the Santa Monica Pier tomorrow at three in the morning.  I
assume wherever you are at the moment, that will be enough time to get
here, yes?"

The man said something else.

"Alright, one bodyguard, but that's all," Sam said.  "See you tomorrow
night."

*****

The next night we were waiting, perched on the closed down, empty pier a
few minutes before the scheduled meeting time.

Why are we up here when we said we would meet them down there?

I was holding Sam from behind, listening to the wind softly ruffle his
feathers above me.

"I just want to make sure that they aren't planning some underhanded
attack," Sam said.  "Once they are here, and I can safely read their minds,
I'll take us down."

What's keeping them from trying to attack me once we're down there?

I knew that the security I had when we met the demon in the busy Cairo
street would not help me in this empty place.

"You're forgetting that I can read their minds," Sam said.  "If they try
and attack you, I will know it as soon as they think about it, and I will
interject.  Don't worry, you could not be safer."

They arrived right on time, both of them on a pair of shiny new Harleys
that you could hear coming from a mile away.  They parked their bikes in
the parking lot and walked down the beach, two dark figures that I could
barely see, one substantially bigger than the other.

Once they had walked under the pier, Sam jumped down from our perch, and
carried me on his back down to the ground, making no sound as he landed in
the sand.

As I stepped off of Sam I looked at the two men.  Both of them were facing
away from us, walking towards the other side of the pier.  The one on the
right was a tall, and built thick with muscle, his head bald and his skin
chocolate brown.  He wore a loose biker jacket and a pair of jeans.  His
body was large and powerful, and I accorded him instant respect for that.

The one on the right was shorter, more my height, though more muscular than
I was.  He had on a black leather biker suit, and his straight black hair
was cut short.  He clearly seemed the weaker of the two.

It was this second one, the smaller one, who spoke first after sniffing the
air a few times.  "Even down wind I can smell them," he said, with an
American accent.  "Not one but two scents I never smelled before." he said.

"I smelled em before," said the bigger man, with a deeper, American
accented voice.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out what that means, Case," the first
one said.

"I know," he answered.  "But I don't like it."

Both of them turned around at once to face us.  Neither one of them looked
the least bit pleased.

"Yes," Sam said, walking closer to them.  "Your nose does not deceive you.
He's the One."

Both the men looked at me then.  From the larger, black man, there was
nothing but cool observation as he looked at me through a pair of trendy
sunglasses, not as sporty as the ones Sam had on.  He was handsome in a
gruff, rough edged, big-boned kind of way.

But from the other, smaller man, there was a look of pure malice.  He was
older than me, I would have guessed in his low twenties--still clearly
younger than his buddy.  He was handsome as well, only instead of the rough
features of a typical wolf, his were soft and sculpted, like an angel's
might be.  A pure pretty boy, Hispanic in descent, with much more classic
beauty, I knew, than I had.  I wondered, painfully jealous, if the angels
might have considered him pretty enough to make him one of them if other
circumstances had been different.

But over this sheen of beauty was a roughness of being.  He held himself
overly rigid, as if he was constantly flexing his muscles to look larger
and more intimidating, something that I had often pulled in the Marines.
His face looked somehow much older than it should, not because of any
wrinkles, but because of his constantly brusque expression, which was only
exacerbated by his hard-angled black goatee.  His eyes looked weary and
worn, and his hands were constantly clenched into tight fists.

He looked at me with hatred, and I returned his look full blast, knowing in
my heart that I would win the stare-down, that I was tougher than this guy.
His hardness was an act, one that I had perfected long before and to a much
better level.  You can't shit a shitter.

Finally, the young man looked away from me and nodded at Sam.  "You should
kill him now, or let me do it for you," he offered.

"I wouldn't fucking count on it," I said.

Sam put a restraining hand upon me to let me know to keep calm.

"Malcolm told me he was a weak, pathetic nothing," the man said, clearly
insulting me all he could.  "Of course, a lot of time has passed since
then.  Has he gotten much stronger?"  He looked at me.  "Perhaps we should
see just how strong you are?  A fight to the death, just you and me," he
said.

"No," Sam said.  "As I think you both know, I can read minds.  If you even
consider making a move towards this boy, I will kill you before you can do
it, so help me God.  Besides, he's not any stronger than before and he's
not going to become any stronger.  He's staying as he is."

The man looked back at Sam.  "You don't know that.  You can't guarantee
that.  What if you make him one of your kind?  If he becomes like you, a
bat, an angel, he'll be stronger than your strongest brother."

I looked at Sam hopefully, telling him with my mind that yes, this is what
I wanted.

"No," Sam said.  "I'm sorry, but that's just not a possibility."

"Then I advise you to keep him chained up," the young man said.

"I don't think you're in the position to be advising me to do anything,"
Sam said.

"Right," said the wolf.  "Since we both know what you have hanging over my
head, let's make this simple.  What do I have to do to get them both back,
alive?"

"There's nothing you can do," Sam answered.

The wolf looked miffed.  "What?  You won't give them back?"

"I will not," Sam said.

The two wolves looked at each other.  "If not, what on earth do you plan to
bargain with?"

"With their lives, of course," Sam said.  "If you do not follow my
instructions exactly, I will kill them.  If you do, I will keep them
alive."

The young wolf forced a laugh and turned around, rubbing his eyes in
exasperation.

The larger wolf then said, "How do we even know that the two of them still
live?"

"Because I am telling you it is so, and I am an angel.  Incapable of a
lie."

"And how, exactly, are we supposed to believe that?" continued the wolf the
other had called Case.

"You will have to take my word," Sam said.  "If you doubt me, then you can
be assured that your friends will die."

The younger wolf looked back towards us, his expression meaner than ever,
and bouncing back and forth between Sam and myself.

"Do we have a deal?" Sam asked him.

"Do I have a choice?" the wolf asked.

"Good," Sam said, looking away and sighing with relief.  "Now listen
carefully to your instructions.  They are quite important."

Sam wasn't facing the young wolf as he said that, and the wolf moved with
sudden, rash action, pulling a long knife out of his jacket and charging
me, all of this faster than a blink of an eye, much too fast to avoid.

It briefly passed through my head that I was okay, that Sam was reading
this wolf's mind, and he would turn around and stop him in his tracks.

Next thing I knew, I had the wolf behind me, one arm pulling my body back
against his while the other held his knife to my throat.

It was only then that Sam reacted, moving towards us with sudden, frantic
speed.

"Uh-uh-uh!" warned the wolf.  "Try it and I spill all his blood into the
sand!"

Sam stopped in his tracks, stupefied.  I had never seen him outsmarted.
Perhaps it was the first time that he ever was, and because of it, I would
likely pay with my life.

"How did you?" Sam asked, his voice trailing off in confusion.

The wolf laughed haughtily in my ear.  "I knew before tonight that you
could read minds.  I've been learning a lot about your kind lately, that is
until you kidnapped Griffith.  I bet that if I acted without actually
thinking about doing so, if I attacked while thinking about not attacking,
I could fool you long enough to get the upper hand.  Looks like the bet
paid off."  He looked over at his buddy.  "What do you think, Case?
Impressed?"

"You shouldn't have risked it," he said.  "It isn't worth it."

"What isn't worth it?" the wolf asked, more and more emotion coming into
his voice.  "My life?  Damn right it's worth it.  It would be worth my life
to kill this guy right now."

I was scared, but I wouldn't show it.  "Go ahead then, you spic," I said.
"Have some balls and do it."

He tightened his grip on me, pressed the knife harder into my skin, and put
his lips on my ear.  "What did you call me, you racist redneck son of a
bitch?" he asked so emphatically that spit hit my ear.  "You don't think I
won't kill you?"

"He didn't mean that," Sam said on my behalf.

"The hell I didn't!" I cried.

"He's not racist," Sam said.  "He just knows how to offend."

"Well, if he offends me again, it'll be metal through his throat."

Sam shook his head, and smiled at the wolf.  "Just calm down.  Please,
Rick.  Look at your hands. they're shaking."

It was true, the knife at my throat was trembling in his unsteady hands.

"Nobody but my friends call me Rick!" he yelled at Sam, taking a step back
and pulling me back with him.

"Alright," Sam said, with total calmness.  "I think, perhaps, we might have
been friends if our lives had been laid out a little differently.  We just
met and I already know you, Rick.  You and I aren't all that different."

He laughed.  "How could you in any way be like me, angel?"

"We are alike in many ways," Sam said with his most soothing tone of voice.
"We are both what the angels called `built of water.'  We see the world not
with our eyes but with our heart.  We are sensitive to a fault, solitary
and perhaps secretive.  Vulnerable, definitely.  The cruel designs of fate,
the heavy weight of the world on your shoulders, the tragic loss you've
suffered all have hardened your soul, cooled it into ice.  I've suffered
the same way."

Sam fished in his pants pocket for what I hoped was some weapon of some
sort that he could use to kill the fucker whose knife was hurting my
throat.  Instead, he pulled out a familiar chain ring.

"Look at my lover's neck there, below the knife," Sam told the wolf, Rick.
"There you will see a cross on a chain."

"Yeah, so?" Rick asked.

Sam held out the chain ring in his hands.  It was filled with crosses, not
unlike the one I had around my neck, but each one different from each
other.  "I keep this with me at all times, so I will never forget."  He
fingered one of the larger crosses.  "Each one signifies a lover dead,
gone, taken from me.  It doesn't get any easier to face, no matter how many
years pass by.  Each time I lose one of my companions, I enter a
depression.  I question everything, myself, my faith.  My heart freezes
into ice.  But I always find a return path to the warmth.  It's a choice,
Rick, a choice you must make for yourself."

Beside me, Case said, "Rick, don't listen to this manipulative fuck.  He's
just trying to confuse you!"

"I know!" said Rick, but his shaky voice and hands said he was anything but
confident.  "This is it, angel.  Let me have my brothers, safe and sound,
or I'll gladly kill this Gifted and you can have another cross on your
chain."

Sam shook his head gravelly.  "I think you're making a mistake," he said.

"I don't care!  The life of your lover for the life of my brothers!"

"I cannot negotiate with you," Sam said, and I was shocked that he had said
it.  "I cannot let your wolves go."

"Why the hell not?" asked Rick.

Yeah, why the hell not?  It would be easy enough to do.  This is my life
we're talking about here, Sam.  This guy isn't messing around, he'll really
kill me.

Sam looked at me, his eyes open and more moist than usual, then looked back
towards Rick.  "Because your wolves are sinners and killers," Sam said.  "I
cannot rightfully let them free.  Not now or ever.  All I can tell you is
that I will extend their lives for as long as it is fit to do so."

"No!" Rick screamed.  "That's not good enough!  If they're not free, they
might as well be dead!"  He dug the knife further into me.  "One last
chance before I kill your lover!"

Sam shook his head.  "If you kill him, I will not only kill the wolves in
my captivity," he said.  "I will kill you and your companion here tonight."

"You can try, anyway," Rick said.

"I will succeed.  Angels do not lose fights to wolves."

"That's funny," Case said.  "Cause I can remember beating an angel myself
in a fight."

"You didn't win so much as get away," Sam said.  "And that was with the
youngest, weakest angel in our flock.  I'm very old and very, very strong."

"Fine!" Rick said.  "I'm willing to die tonight," he said.  "It happens
now.  Say your last goodbyes to your lover, angel!"

Sam looked at me in the eyes, but said nothing.

Please Sam, don't let me die here.

He only continued to look me in the eye.

I gasped as the knife painfully stabbed into the skin of my throat, and
shut my eyes, clenching down for the worst.

A strong hand pushed me down to the ground, on all fours in the sand.  A
knife fell into the sand beside me.

I looked back.  Rick had stepped back from me completely, his eyes moist
with a frustrated rage.  "Fuck!" he yelled into the night.  "Fuck, fuck,
fuck, fuck!" he continued to shout, his body convulsing with each word, his
face so tight it looked like his skull would break free of it.  "You win,
angel, you win."

I put my hand to my throat to hold my wound.  I could tell it was minor.

"It is very, very difficult to bluff an angel," Sam said.  "Though you are
more cunning than any wolf I've known."

Rick sighed, composed himself, though the anger and the hate never really
left him.  "Just tell me," he said, resigned.  "Tell me what you want us to
do."

Sam told him the whole plan then, our attack against the Bridge.  The
involvement of the demons, the computer virus, my part in the whole thing,
all of it.

Rick listened in silence until Sam had finished.  "So, what you're asking
me to do," he said, "is to call an immediate stand down against the
vampires."

"Yes," Sam said.  "Until this is over, the demons, wolves, and us angels
shall be in peace."

"And then, once you tell me where these branches of the Bridge are located,
I have to organize attacks on all of those that exist in my territory.  We
will all carry out a synchronized attack, worldwide," he said.  "And use
explosives to blow up these branches.  Is that it?"

"Yes," Sam said.  "I personally will be invading the branch the Gifted will
be housed in, the LA one.  I will need you to provide me with the numbers,
and perhaps one of your strongest to lead them.  It is, after all, the
largest of all the branches."

Rick nodded.  "I will send Case to lead a small army of wolves along side
you," he said.

Case nodded dutifully.  I assumed, judging by the way the guy was built,
that this was one of the strongest wolf warriors.  Obviously he was much
stronger than this Rick, as clearly he was here to protect the younger
leader.  Perhaps, I thought, Case was almost as strong as the giant-sized
wolf that had attacked me in Tucson, the one they called Malcolm.  Though I
knew no other wolf could have been as strong as that one.  He was fucking
huge.

"I must be assured that none of your wolves will accidentally kill the
Gifted," Sam said.

"Do not worry," Rick said.  "We can smell him before we can see him.  He
will be safe."

"Then I have your total consent?" Sam asked.

"The Bridge is as much my enemy now as it is yours," Rick said.  "They are
constantly meddling in the affairs of the wolves.  Yes, I will do as you
ask, on two conditions."

"Name them," Sam said.

"First, you must not let any of the vampires know of my existence.  Not
even a mention of my name."

"Agreed," Sam said.  "And the other?"

"I will order my wolves to invade these branches.  I will order them to
blow them up as you have wished.  But I will not order them to kill the
agents and staff members inside.  I will have them safely removed."

"No," Sam said.  "They must be killed."

"That is where I draw the line," Rick said.

"And if they should fight back and put your wolves in mortal danger?" Sam
asked.

"Then, in that case, of course my wolves will have to kill them.
Otherwise, not."

"They are ruthless," Sam said.  "They will all fight back, and they will
all die.  Alright then."  He took my arm and started pulling me away.
"It's been a pleasure, Rick," he said.

"Yeah, some pleasure," Rick said sarcastically.

"I'll be in touch."

*****

I wasn't saying much on the ride back to the hotel in the car, just
thinking about how close I had come to getting my throat torn out by some
jackass wolf.

"I wouldn't have let him kill you," Sam said to me after a while, breaking
the silence.  "I knew, as long as we kept him calm, he wouldn't have been
able to go through with it.  He was just bluffing, that's all."

"Okay Sam," I said, believing at least that Sam meant what he said.  I
wondered suddenly if perhaps Sam was wrong, that perhaps he had made a
mistake and I almost died for it.  I wondered if all my faith had been
misplaced in this angel who I thought of as completely infallible, and yet
perhaps was not.  Maybe he too was capable of a good fuck-up.

I shook that unpleasant thought away.  "I want to kill that little fucker,"
I said instead, rubbing the minor cut on my throat.

"Wrath, Bradley?"

Damn right.  He's the one who sent that wolf out to kill me before.  As far
as I'm concerned, he's indirectly responsible for both my cousins almost
dying.

Sam nodded.  "That he is."

So.  How long before we can kill that son of a bitch?

"For now, he is indispensable," Sam said.  "If all of my plans come to
blossom, you will eventually see his demise."

I looked away, out of the car window, knowing that was as vague an answer
as he could possibly give.

"We need to go over your plan, Bradley," he said.

"Right," he said, unenthused.

"Starting this morning, you will spend your days at Grand Central Station
downtown.  You need to be there before the morning commuters arrive."

How will I get there from your place?

"The bus," he said.  "And you should not return until I come to you after
sunset and give you the all clear.  We don't want someone to tail you back
to my place.  Now, the fun part of this is that you get to act like a crazy
person, which shouldn't be too much of a stretch for you.  In order to yell
about vampires and werewolves to the passerbys, one has to be a little
off."

Okay.  I can pull off crazy.  How long do I have to perform?

"Not sure," Sam said.  "It could take days for one of them to approach you.
Just be patient."

And what happens when they finally take me in?

"You'll have to convince them of your cover story.  Just use your real life
story, up to the part where I come along.  Tell them that you were kicked
out of the Marines because of drug abuse.  Tell them you came here
afterwards, and although you kicked the drug habit, you've been living the
life of a vagabond ever since, shacking up with whoever will give you
shelter and taking only the odd job to live by."

Yup, got it.

"Oh, and whatever you do, you cannot ever let on that you know who your
father was or that you have living relatives on that side.  If these people
find out about Tyler, they will take him for their own uses, forcibly if
they have to.  We cannot allow that to happen."

I nodded.  "No fucking way are those fucks gonna lay a hand on my cousin."

"Tell them that you've detected the presence of werewolves and vampires in
LA since you've been here.  Tell them that you have psychic `feelings' that
these monsters are around you at times.  But that's it.  You don't know
anything about them or what you really are.  You've never encountered an
angel.  Understood?"

Yeah, I got the drift.  And then I just wait for the disk to be given to me
by the demon's agent?

"Right, just wait," Sam said.  "And then after you load the virus, you'll
just have to wait again.  Nine days, count them as they go by.  On the
ninth day, we'll attack.  When we do, I'll feel best if you try and make
your way to my side as quickly as possible.  But most importantly, stay out
of harm's way!"

Okay.  I know what I have to do.  So, I guess I'll be at the LA branch
during the days, and at night I'll come back to your place?

Sam shook his head.  "I'm sorry to say this, Bradley," he said, "but I
think it's unlikely that the Bridge will even let you leave at night.  And
if they do, it will be under very careful supervision.  There is no way you
can come back to my place."

"What?" I asked, dumbfounded.  "You mean, I'm not even gonna see you?"  I
shook my head vehemently.  "No, no, no.  I can't go without seeing you.  I
mean, what am I going to do without your cum?  I'll die, won't I?"

"Don't worry," Sam said.  "My psychic connection with you is so great, I'll
find you wherever they take you downtown.  Once I know the location of
their branch, I'll infiltrate it whatever way I need to.  I can cloak,
remember?  Watch for me when you're inside, I'll find a way to get to you
every single night."

No matter what?

"No matter what," he said, putting his hand on mine.

But I still wasn't sure.

You're still asking me to be away from you for most of every day.  What if
some question comes up that I don't know how to answer?  I need you there
to make any important decisions for me.

"I'll be there to talk to you once every night," Sam said.

What if that's not good enough?  I'm scared, Sam.  Scared to be cut loose
from you.

"Look at me, Bradley," he said.  I turned to look at his reassuring face.
"You'll be fine.  You'll do splendidly.  You can do this."

I nodded.  But when he took his hand away from mine and put it back on the
steering wheel, the doubt returned, worse than ever.

*****

I arrived that morning at LA's Grand Central at 6:30 in the morning,
figuring that would give me plenty of time to catch the morning commuters.
I went inside the old fashioned train station, which was already busy with
people that I imagined were mostly going outbound.

I looked around for something to stand on, and not finding a soapbox
anywhere, settled for a plastic chair that was right in the middle of the
station.

I sighed, not the least bit looking forward to what I was about to do.

It wasn't that I was someone who was afraid of public speaking.  No, if
anything, I had always loved the spotlight.  But I loved it because I loved
to impress people.  I loved knowing that people respected me, looked up to
me, perhaps were a little bit envious of me.

I was not at all comfortable with purposefully making a total ass out of
myself, and that's the only thing I was here to do.

Summoning the resolve, I finally stepped up on that chair, praying to God
that there would be no one that I knew passing through here while I was on
stage.

"Werewolves!" I shouted, figuring that was a good jumping off point.  Many
nearby people turned their heads in surprise to find the source of this
sudden outburst.  Yes, it was me, I was the idiot.

"They're everywhere around us and none of us even realize!" I blurted out.

Laughter.  Just amused laughter.  They thought I was some comedian making a
joke.

"Stop laughing!" I yelled.  "I'm not the least bit kidding."  I looked at a
guy in a suit who was still snickering.  "You, dude, you think I'm kidding
here?"

"Ah, I was just..." he trailed off, embarrassed and completely unsure,
suddenly turning away and power-walking towards the platform.

"I'm not joking!  Vampires and werewolves, they're here, right here in LA!"

The people who once looked at me and laughed finally got it through their
heads that I was not just some joker, but that I most likely believed the
shit I was spouting.  Their faces turned away from me, careful to ignore
me, not wanting to give me any reason to pick them out of the crowd and
make them uncomfortable.  In fact, as I continued to yammer on, the area
around me, once busy with foot traffic, became just an empty space, a
bubble devoid of any people, as if I were in some quarantine zone, and
everyone else was careful to give me my space or risk catching my crazy
disease.

By 8:30, the embarrassment of my situation disappeared and I really started
to get into it, giving the crazy speech with every public speaking tactic I
could recall.  An opening witticism to get the audience's attention, a
clearly projected voice, pausing for emphasis when needed, turning and
looking as much of the audience in the eye as possible.

But no matter how much better my speech became, the people didn't pay
anymore attention to me.

Finally a station security guard came up to me.  "Do you have a ticket to
go somewhere?" he asked plainly.

"We both have a ticket straight to hell if we don't stop the werewolves
before they kill us all!" I yelled, quite unreasonably.

"Out," the guard said.  "Get out!"

"I am your last defense against the monsters of this town!" I warned.  "To
evict me is to evict all hope!"

"Well, hope be damned.  Get out!"

He took me by the arm and pulled me off my chair, pushing me towards the
exit.  "Alright, bro, let me leave with some dignity intact, man!"

He didn't care, he just pushed me out the door.  "You're not welcome back
here, ya here?"

"Yeah, well fuck you too, man!" I shouted.

He went back inside, and I squinted in the bright sunshine.  Big fucking
deal.  If they wouldn't let me inside the station, I could just as easily
do my thing on the front entrance.

"Vampires will suck you dry!" I yelled at a passing elderly woman, who
jumped back from me in alarm.  "I know because I can sense them
psychically!"

The woman looked at me doubtfully.  "I lived in LA my whole life," she
said.  "I'll take my chances, Dear."  Then she went inside.

I kept on yelling at the commuters, wondering when I would take lunch and
what was around here to eat, when a man who was not a security guard
actually came up to me and looked me straight in the eye.

"Do you actually believe the stuff you're saying?" he asked me.  He was a
white man in his thirties, somewhat attractive, with bug eyes, a big mouth,
sunburned skin, and sun-bleached, spiky blonde hair.  With an uncool dark
blue suit jacket over a slightly more cool Hawaiian shirt, I couldn't for
the life of me imagine what he did for a living.  Something where it would
be appropriate to dress cheesy.  A used car salesman, or a math teacher,
perhaps.

"Damn right I believe what I'm saying," I said.  "I've realized I have
newfound psychic powers, and since then the wolves can smell me."

He looked around suspiciously with his big eyes and leaned in closer to me.
"So, tell me.  About when did you start having your, uh, special feelings?"
He spoke loudly but not exactly with manliness.  Even a simple statement
had a sarcastic tone from him.

I shrugged.  "For several months.  Do you know anything about this stuff?"

He didn't answer my question.  "What is your name?"

"Brad," I said.

"Your parents stopped at Brad?"

"Bradley Wheeler," I said.

"Well, Bradley Wheeler," he said.  "Would you mind if you came along with
me?"

"I guess not," I said.  "As long as you're not hitting on me."

He shook his head.  "I'm gay, actually, but not desperate enough to pick up
a guy who gets his kicks by scaring old ladies outside of train stations,"
he said, over-animatedly.  Then he put an exaggerated `thoughtful finger'
to his chin.  "Actually, I take that back.  I am totally not above picking
up crazy street guys for some mental-patient brand love.  But, at the
moment, my interest in you is purely professional."  He opened up his
jacket like a runway model wearing the hottest new suit.  "See?
Professionally dressed, just like they ask me to be."

While normally I would have had nothing to do with this oddball, today was
a special day.  "Yes, I'll go with you," I said.

"Well, that's terrific," he said, but looked around suspiciously at the
crowd again.  He burst into a sudden fit of laughter.  "Okay man, you did
it!" he yelled loud enough for everyone to hear.  "The dare's up, you
proved yourself, you can stop acting like a crazy fool now!"

I caught on, and started laughing along with him.  "You owe me twenty
bucks, man!" I yelled loudly.

Still laughing, the man pulled me away from the station, saying, "You are
too crazy," as we walked onto the street.

When we were out of the crowd, his face turned suddenly serious.  Or, at
least, as serious as this clown could be.  "My name's Ernest.  Ernest
Mumm."

"Okay," I said.  "Where are we going?"

"Off the street.  You will see, it's not far."

A few blocks away, he took me into a medium-sized office tower that looked
like it was built in the sixties.  A large plaque outside denoted the
building as Zimmer Investments.

"Man, I don't need to go in there," I told Ernest.  "I'm broke.  All I got
on me is three bucks, and something tells me this kind of place is looking
more sizable investments."

"Stop thinking before you hurt something and just come with me," Ernest
said.

He led me into the front lobby, a clean if plainly decorated room with a
single woman sitting behind a desk and in front of a huge wall with the
"Zimmer Investments" name engraved on it.  Hallways led off into the
building on either side of her.  The whole place had the look of a
seventies office building, chock full of fake wood paneling and yellow
carpeting.

"Hi Felicia," Ernest said as we walked towards the desk.

"Mumm," she said, then looked oddly at me.  "Who is your guest?"

"Code seven," he said.  "I'm seeking an escort and a blood test for
possible confirmation."

Felicia suddenly looked startled, and started typing into her computer.
"Alright.  Permission granted.  Take him back."

She pressed a button, and the decorative wall with the company name behind
her spun around ninety degrees, revealing a hidden passage behind her.

That was the first moment I was positive I had landed in the right hands.
I marveled to myself how quick it had taken for someone to pick me up as
Mumm took me back through the door.

The secret room we went into was an obviously high-tech, automatic security
station with a large metal door the destination in front of us.

As the door to the lobby swung shut, Mumm approached an identification
terminal beside the door.  "I just have to get verified," he said.  "Mind
you, you're not really supposed to see any of this.  But since you can't
get through here unless, well, unless you're me, I don't suppose there's
any harm."  He lowered his face into a black eyepiece.  "Retinal scan," he
said.  A red laser scanned over hi eye.  After a second, he jumped back
from the eyepiece in alarm.  "That part always freaks me out," he said.

A computerized male voice said over the speaker, "Please put your right
hand on the pad and state your name."

He put his hand up and said, nervously and quickly, "Agent Ernest Mumm."  A
little buzzer sounded.

"Access denied," said the male voice.  "Coerced entry suspect."

Mumm looked back at me and smiled awkwardly.  "Sorry about this, it happens
all the time."

"What, they don't got your fingerprints on file or something, man?"

He shook his head.  "No, this pad doesn't just scan your prints.  Oh, I
wish it were that easy.  No, it scans your vitals as well.  Makes sure
you're still alive, that you're conscious.  Also prevents entry if your
heart rate is elevated.  The idea is that if some intruder, you, for
instance, was holding a gun to my head and forcing me to validate, my heart
rate would most likely be raised, and they wouldn't let me in."

"Neat," I said.

"Yeah, well.  It stops being neat when it blocks you from entering just
because you're slightly excited, like now.  What can I say, I've got a lot
of expendable nervous energy.  Sometimes I need a to pop a few Ritalin just
to get the goddamn door to let me in."  He shut his eyes and started to
take deep breaths.  "I am sooo relaxed," he said to himself.  "As relaxed
as a Hindu cow."  He put his hand on the plate again, still keeping his
eyes shut.  Then he said, in a mellow, stoner-like tone of voice, "Agent
Ernest Mumm."

"Access denied.  Coerced entry suspect."

"Fuck!" he yelled, kicking the door repeatedly with his foot.  "Fuck you,
security system, I know you're out to get me!  You're like HAL and I'm that
blonde astronaut guy and you're trying to get me sucked out into space!"
He kicked the door some more.

Behind me, a fiftty-ish woman came through the secret door.  "Is there some
sort of problem here, Mumm?" she asked, noticing the hard kicks to the
door.

Mumm turned to face her, his mortification hidden by a calm and polite
gameface.  "Hi there Commander," he said.  "Well, I just seem to have
forgotten how to open this door."

She looked at him quizzically.  "It doesn't respond to kicking, if that's
what your thought was.  You have to use the verification system, remember?"

"Oh, that's right!" Mumm said.

She walked over to the consol, scanned her eye, and when the computer asked
for her name, said, "Commander Roberta Stahl."

"Access granted," said the voice, and the door opened.

"Ah yes, that's how you open the door, I won't forget it again!" Mumm
assured her.

"Mmm-hmm," she said as she passed him through the door.  Then she mumbled
as she walked off, "I remember when the recruiters used to have standards."

Mumm waived me through the entrance into a catacomb of futuristic steel and
granite hallways, busy with people walking this way and that.  "Could you
just wait in here, please?" he asked me as he opened a door that was
labeled "holding room."

I went inside.  It was just a small, empty room with a long table and many
chairs.

"I'll be back in a jiff," Mumm said.  "Whatever you do, stay put."

He left then, leaving me alone to sit and stare at the wall for what seemed
to me to be more than an hour.

When he returned, he came with a man dressed in blue scrubs, obviously a
doctor or a nurse of some kind.

"We just need a drop of your blood, Mr. Wheeler," the guy in the scrubs
said.

"Just a drop?" I asked him, handing him my finger.

The guy pricked me in my forefinger and then took off once the sample was
collected.

Mumm was holding a fat stack of magazines.  "It's going to be a while until
they process that sample," he said.  "Probably a number of hours.  So I
brought you all the magazines I could scrounge up for entertainment
purposes."

He dropped the stack of magazines on the table in front of me with a loud
bang.

"Sorta reminds me of the one time I donated sperm," he mused.  "A fat stack
of porn magazines and the collection of bodily fluids.  But don't worry,
these magazines are more on the Home & Garden side of things than on the
Penthouse side."  He looked suddenly at me as if I had complained.  "Unless
you want Penthouse.  I could ask around.  Hundreds of employees here, I'm
sure one of them has got Penthouse stashed in their desk somewhere."

"No man," I said, picking up the top magazine.  "I'm cool."

"K, great," Mumm said.  "Some of those magazines go back fifteen years.
Yeah, I know, like we could be less prepared to entertain guests here."  He
walked towards the door.  "I'll get back to you when the test results are
back.  Until then, please stay here.  I'll have someone check on you
occasionally if you need to take potty breaks.  Might even have someone
bring you in a catered lunch, how does that sound?"

"Fine," I said.

"Good."  He left me alone to read old, boring chick magazines and watch the
clock.

*****

Mumm didn't come back until after 4:00, and by that time, I could barely
keep my eyes open.  I was used to sleeping during the day with Sam, and had
been forced to stay up all through the day.  Reading the most boring
magazines ever written by man wasn't exactly helping me.

I had nodded off, my head down on the table, when Mumm woke me up by poking
me in the arm.  "Psst," he said.  "Pssst!  Wake up!"

I opened my bleary eyes and looked at him.  He looked way too happy about
something, and had a bunch of papers in his arms.  "Medical says the blood
test came back positive," he said quickly.  "I asked the doctor, are you
positive he's positive?  And the doctor just gave me the evil stare.  So
yes, you've tested positive!"

"Positive for what?" I interjected.

He looked serious suddenly.  "Oh, yeah, I can see how that statement could
seem unsettling in this day and age.  But in this case, positive it good.
It's very good.  I've contacted the higher-ups, and they've already picked
out a Lead.  He'll be here in the morning."

"Does this mean I can leave now?" I asked him.

"Leave?" he asked, and then adopted a super-villain tone of voice.
"NEVER!"  He shrugged.  "Where do you live?  An apartment somewhere?"

I thought about my answer carefully.  "Not really," I said.  "I've just
been on the street for the past couple of months."

"Good heavens!" Mumm said.  "Well, we will take you in.  You can stay here,
with us.  I'm sorry, I can't really explain what you mean to us.  I, of
course, do not have the clearance to brief you.  You'll have to wait until
tomorrow.  But I will tell you that you were right about a lot of the weird
stuff you think is going on recently.  And by joining us, you will be
serving your country.  Heck, you'll be serving the whole gosh-darned
species, how bout that?"

"Terrific," I said wearily.

Mumm put a bunch of contracts in front of me.  "I just need you to look
these over and sign."

"What are these for?"

"Oh, you know.  Liability waivers.  The termination of your legal
existence.  Selling your soul to us.  Just the normal particulars."

"Whatever," I said, signing at each marked X.

"You're not even going to pretend to read them?" he asked.

"Nah.  Probably wouldn't understand them anyways."

"Alright," Mumm said, collecting the papers.  "Now that you have officially
been granted access to this base, I guess I can take you out of this
waiting room.  Unless you cannot bear to part with this room now that
you've been in it all day."

I stood up, slinging my pack over my shoulder.  "Where are we off to?"

"To one of the residential floors of this base," he said.  "I'm afraid it's
out of one waiting room and into another.  But the bedrooms are much more
comfortable.  I think they even have TV's in them, so you might be able to
catch the end of your favorite soap."

"Mmm."  I was not up for any more chat with this "funny" guy.  "Take me to
my room then."

"Follow me."

He took me back out into the hallway, which was as busy with people as it
had been in the morning.  As we got into the elevator, he told me, "local
people will start going home in the late evening, including myself.  But
there is staff here twenty-four hours a day.  They can be reached by phone
if you have any problem at all.  They'll even bring food to your room.
Order something expensive, Uncle Sam is getting the bill."

I shivered at the word "Sam."  I was starting to get anxious without him.
Starting to worry if he really would be able to find me here, in such a
secure area.

"Here we are," Mumm said as the elevator opened up to our floor.  I
followed him out of it.

Uninviting hallways filled with doors.  "Much of our base is devoted to
living spaces.  Apartments.  Suites."

"How many people live here?" I asked.

"Most of the people serving here live here.  Many of us travel all over the
world.  These bases become our temporary shelters wherever we go.  Even
those of us lucky enough to have a permanent place of work, like myself,
often choose to live on base permanently for security purposes.  Not me
though," he looked at me and smiled as we walked.  "I knew that if I was
gonna be in California, I was gonna live on the beach.  No question about
it.  Even if it takes two friggin hours for me to commute, there's nothing
like hearing the waves as you go to sleep, right?"

"I guess," I said.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" he asked.  "More of the strong, silent
type?"

I shrugged.  "I'm just a bit shy, I guess."  Which was a complete lie.
Honestly, I found no value in talking to some wacko who would be dead in a
couple weeks.

"Funny," Mumm said.  "You sure didn't seem too shy this morning when you
were belting out crazy talk for thousands of people to hear in Grand
Central."

I shrugged, not caring to defend myself.  He didn't push it.

He unlocked a door with his keycard and let me in a room.  It was like a
small hotel room, only the bed was just a single, and the decorating was
non-existent.  The place seemed like the inside of a dark metal box, and
the ceiling lights did little to brighten up the gloomy space.

I frantically looked around for a window.  There was one, in the corner of
the room over the bed against the ceiling, but it was tiny, just one by two
feet, and covered with crossed bars.

"Does that window open?" I asked, starting to sweat nervously.

"You can't be hot, can you?" he asked, rubbing his arms in a clear "it's
chilly" gesture.  "If you're insane enough to be hot, you can turn on the
room's AC.  But, if I come up here in the morning and you're a six foot
icicle, I'll probably get fired for it."

"I just need fresh air," I said.

He looked at me quizzically.

"It's a compulsion," I said.

He smiled knowingly.  "Ah.  I know all about those."  He moved over to my
bed.  "Mind if I stand on your bed for a second?"

I shook my head.

He got on my bed, giving him enough height to reach the window.  In a
moment, he had it unlocked and open, although the bars on it were permanent
fixtures.  "There, all done.  Any other OCD needs I can fulfill?  I'm on a
roll here."

"No," I said.  "You can just leave me alone now."

"Alright.  Mr. Wheeler, I'll see you in the morning."

I nodded, and he left me there, locking me in.

I put my pack down and turned towards the window.  It was still light
outside.  If Sam was able to find me, it would be several hours from now.

I sighed, lying down on my bed, resolving to take a nap.  But after a few
minutes of trying, I gave up.  I couldn't sleep.  Worries were flashing
through my head.  What if Sam wasn't able to find me in here?  The door was
locked, and the window was barred.  There was no way out.

I turned on the TV, and half watched, half worried for a couple of hours.
The sun had fallen, and still no Sam.

"Don't worry, Bradley.  I'm here with you."

I turned quickly towards the window.  There, lit up by the light of my
room, was Sam's face, smiling at me.

"Finally!" I said, running over to the bed.  Standing up on it, we were
face to face.

"I came as quickly as I could," he said.  "Honestly, I expected to pick you
up from the train station.  I was shocked to find that you had already been
picked up."

His fingers were on the sill of the window, holding on, and I realized that
his wings were beating in a steady rhythm behind him.  "You're hovering out
there?" I asked.

"We're a good ten stories up," he said.

I kissed him, pushing my face as far as it would go between the bars until
my lips met his flesh, and he kissed me back so lovingly, so reassuringly.

All my anxieties left me.

"You're doing well," he told me after we had broken the kiss.

"How long until I get the disc I need?" I asked him.

"I'm not sure," he said.  "But you will get it.  Be patient."

"I'll try," I said.  "Sam, I need your cum.  I'm starting to get the
hunger."

"I know," he said.  "I have the same hunger in me."

"Me first," I said.

He laughed.  "You certainly are eager.  Alright.  Luckily, these bars seem
just wide enough."

His wings beat harder and faster for a moment, and his body ascended
gracefully until the only part of him visible though the foot tall window
was his waist/crotch area.  He was shirtless, as he always was when he was
flying, but he had a pair of black jeans on, which he quickly unbuttoned
and pulled down his thighs.

I started to salivate as I saw the thick stalk of his pinkish dick sprout
over his curly blonde pubes.  I wanted so bad to reach out and touch him,
but the bars were too narrowly spaced to fit my hand through.

He fished out his soft dick, pulling it out hand by hand out of his pants,
until it was completely free and dangling in front of the window.  He
pushed the large, foreskin covered head through the bars in the window.

Finally, it was mine.  I grabbed it in my hands, savoring its warmth as I
rubbed it eagerly.  It started to harden in my hands, becoming rigid,
moving from a hanging limply straight down to sticking out towards me at a
ninety degree angle.  The foreskin slowly unsheathed, revealing the dark
pink of his beautiful dicktip.

I grabbed the head firmly in both hands, stretched my mouth as open as it
would go, and put it around the fleshy knob.

I licked eagerly, swallowing every stream of precum he let loose
relentlessly.  Outside, he moaned softly to himself as I did my work.

It took a few minutes for me to get the job done, but when I did, I was
rewarded with volley after volley of his sweet nectar.

Needless to say, I swallowed every ounce of the substance I considered by
far my favorite on Earth.

Finally, after I had milked it completely, he pulled his softening sick out
of the bars in the window.

"Fuck, Sam," I said.  "You don't know how much I needed that.  I'm feeling
better already."

"I'm pleased," he said.  "But, in case you've forgotten, I need the same
from you."

I looked up at the window.  "There's no way I'll be able to climb up this
way and stick my dick out for you," I said.

"That's okay," he said.  "Just get me your cum anyway you can."

I pulled down my pants, grabbed my hard dick, and started to jerk it hard.

"Kiss me," I said to Sam, putting my lips to the window bars.

He did, his wonderful, sweet kiss, and I forced myself to cum right then,
moaning out loud.

I pulled back from the window, carefully catching all of my load in the
palm of my hand.

"Here it is," I said, reaching my hand up to the window as soon as I had
finished coming.

"Yes," Sam said.  "Give it to me."

I pushed the palm of my hand against the bars, and he reached his tongue
out through them, carefully lapping up every drop of cum before it dripped
down off of me.

We kissed again when he had finished, both of us totally satisfied.

Afterwards, a comfortable lull settled into my body.

I'm tired.  I think I'll go straight to bed.  Sam, would you mind staying
for just a minute longer?  It will only take me a minute to fall asleep.
Then you can go.

"I don't mind at all," he said.

I lay down, pulling the bed covers over me.  Although Sam wasn't there to
hold me, his presence was enough to make my mind capitulate to the
exhaustion of my body.

*****

"Who exactly are you taking me to meet, now?" I asked Mumm as he led me
quickly through the hallways, dancing around the many professionals who
walked past us.

"Your lead," he said.  "Essentially, he's your immediate boss.  Chosen by
the top officials in the agency to oversee your team and see to your
interests."  He looked at me with those big eyes.  "He flew in from the
northeast last night to meet you this morning."

"Oh," I said, wondering if I should try and feign at least a little
interest or curiosity.  But this Mumm guy was of no consequence, I decided.
I'd save my performance for only those who really needed to be convinced.

Mumm led me into a conference room, where a man was sitting alone at the
head of the long table.  Sixtyish, with a shock of white hair and bushy
white eyebrows, a tiny nose, and a pronounced under-bite.  His body was
skinny and soft, frail looking for his age, and he wore a brown coat and
tie.

He stood up when I came in, an act that looked painful and arthritic, and
looked me in the eye in a friendly way, though he offered me no smile.
Instead, he offered his hand.

"Mr. Wheeler, I presume," he said with a New York accent.

"Brad, please," I said, shaking his hand.

"My name is Zev Danielovitch.  Please, take a seat."  I couldn't believe
that this organization would actually choose to have this old weakling as
my immediate boss.  Looking beside me at Mumm the clown, I became convinced
that the Bridge could be nothing more than extremely incompetent.

I sat down at the table, and Mumm made to sit down beside me.

"Agent Mumm, that'll be all, thank you," Zev said before Mumm could get his
ass in the seat.

"Professor," Mumm said, standing and addressing Zev.  "Have you gotten a
chance to review my request?"

Zev began flipping through some papers in front of him, raising a bushy
white eyebrow.  "I have."  He suddenly looked Mumm straight in the eye.
"And I've decided not to grant it."

"But sir," said Mumm, his voice serious.  "I was the one who found him and
brought him to this agency."

"Largely out of random luck, your report said."

"A little luck and a lot of gut instinct," Mumm said.

Zev shook his head.  "I considered adding you to this team as one of my
three agents.  But this team is of paramount importance, obviously.  I need
the best we have to be a part of it.  And you're just not to that level."

"But professor," Mumm argued persistently.  "I'm the only one here Bradley
knows and trusts.  We have a rapport, me and him.  A bond like oak."

Zev turned his raised eyebrow towards me.  "Is that true, son?" he asked
me.  "Would you be unable to part with Agent Mumm here?"

I didn't need to think about my answer.  "Not at all," I said.  "Competence
is a hell of a lot more important to me than a couple hours of shared
history."

Zev looked at Mumm as if to say, "there you have it."

Mumm looked visibly angry at me.  "Fine," he said.  "I don't want to be
where I'm not wanted.  If you'll excuse me then, gentlemen."

He left.

Zev waited until the door had shut completely before he started talking to
me.  And then, talk he did.  He launched into an enormous explanatory
lecture, and it became clear to me exactly why they called him "Professor."

He started with what exactly I was, that they had scanned my blood for a
certain gene that almost no one possessed.  Not only did I carry the gene,
but my gene had activated itself as well, sometime a few months ago when
the last man to possess an active gene had been turned into a werewolf.

He went on to tell me about the three enemies of humanity, the werewolves,
vampires, and angels.

As soon as I figured out that this guy wasn't going to tell me anything
that I didn't already know, I let myself drift off to some other place,
making sure to nod and look appropriately amazed all the while.

"Are you listening to me, Bradley?" the professor asked me all of the
sudden, breaking the enormously long monologue he had been spouting.

I realized, lost in my own world, I had let my attention drift down towards
my sneakers.  I snapped my head back up.  "Of course, Professor," I said.

"Good.  Now, as I saying, as the head of this newly created squadron, your
team, I am responsible for appointing all the team positions.  Did you play
any sports in high school, son?"

"No," I said.

"Never on the football team?"

"My school didn't have one," I answered.

"Good heavens.  Well, I assume you are familiar with football in any case?"

"Yeah," I said, shrugging.

"Good to hear it," he said.  "Think of this team here as a football team.
Everyone has their positions, no one could get by without each other.
There may be star players, but nobody can play alone.  Got it?"

"Okay."

"After we put you through training, once the team is familiar with each
other and ready for action, either I or my higher-ups will provide us with
missions.  Our team will coordinate and carry-out those missions together."
He took a deep breath, and I could hear a slight wheeze in his throat.
"Our teams traditionally are made up of eight members, five on field, two
on the sidelines, and one at home.  Think of me as the coach.  I plan and
orchestrate every play from the sidelines, and am constantly in
communication with all of the team.  Out of the five players on field, four
of them are fully trained agents, like Agent Mumm.  A Bridge Agent must
pass more rigorous qualifying exams than any other law enforcement agency
in the world.  They must have a proficiency in combat, firearms,
athletics... and those are just the physical requirements.  You are the
Gifted.  We will train you to be an agent yourself.  You and three other
agents will comprise the muscle of this team.  Eventually, when you have
proven yourself, you will be given the title of lead agent, the quarterback
of our team.  For now, I have already assigned the lead agent."

He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number.  "Agent West, we're ready
for you in here," he said, and hung up the phone.

He looked again at me.  "Agent West has flown in from Rio on my request,"
he said to me.

Behind me, the door opened.

"Agent West, please come in," the professor said.

I turned to look at the dude, and was shocked to see the dude was a chick.
A girl agent.  How cute.  She was a white girl, maybe in her mid-thirties,
and the absolute epitome of plain Jane.  Not particularly tall, but with a
thick, athletic frame; she could have stood to lose a few pounds in my
book.  Her mousey brown hair was neatly pulled back but looked like it had
not been styled in years.  Her face might have been pretty if she had worn
some make-up, as it was she looked totally unfuckable.

I noticed her blazer pulled neatly over a blouse, and realized that this
chick must have been a dyke.  Why else would she want a man's job?  It was
a shame, really.  She might have been hot if she at least gave a little
shit about how she looked.

She was coming towards me, shaking my hand with a wholesome, earthy smile
on her face.  Did I have to stand up for this, considering she was a "lady"
entering the room?  I decided not to.  If she was going to pretend she was
a man, I might as well do the same.

"Alissa West," she said as she shook my hand (with a man's confident grip).

"Bradley Wheeler," I said.

"It's so good to meet you," she told me, looking into my eyes and smiling
with a maternal sort of warmth.  "I've been on cloud nine since I was told
about your existence.  We had long accepted at the Bridge that we would
never see another Gifted for the rest of our lives.  That was a given, and
yet, we plowed on in our struggle.  Now, well, it is like a miracle to us
all."

"Oh, great," I said.

She gushed on.  "And when I was picked to be your squadron's lead agent,
well, that was the highest personal honor."

"West, please take a seat," the professor told her.  She sat down next to
me.  "Agent West will be personally responsible for your training and
protection," he told me.  "Though, not to downplay the importance the other
two agents in our squadron will have on your training.  You will meet them
on a later date."

"Okay," I said, hoping those two weren't dykes as well.

"Now, Bradley," the professor said.  "We need to be reviewed of your entire
history.  Everything you tell me I'm going to put in your file.  It is
important for your own sake that you leave out nothing.  This is not a time
to sugar coat your mistakes.  There is no need to impress us here.  No
matter what you have done, we will accept you.  Understood?"

"Yeah," I said.  "What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with your family," he said.  "Here at the Bridge we have been
tracing the lineage of the gene for centuries, long, long before we
actually knew what a gene was.  When the last Gifted betrayed us, killing
one of our agents, and joining sides with the wolves, becoming one himself,
we had thought him the last of the Gifted.  Your appearance proves that
there is another genetic line that we have managed to overlook.  In all
likelihood, there are other males out there with your gene, either closely
or distantly related to you.  It is absolutely imperative that we know who
they are.  In case we lose you, they will become extremely important to
us."

"Well," I answered.  "Good luck finding my relatives.  Because I've never
even met them.  Never even knew my father.  He was never in the picture."

"Do you know his name?" the professor asked.

"Nope," I lied.  "My mother didn't even know who it was.  She fucked a
whole lot of guys when she was strung out on heroine.  She probably never
even knew his name."

The professor was dismayed.  "We need to talk with your mother," he said.
"Perhaps there is a way we can unearth the memories from her."

"Look," I said.  "She abandoned me when I was a kid so that I wouldn't get
in the way of her smack habit.  She's dead now.  Overdosed years ago.
Nope, I have no family in the world.  It's just me.  Why'd you think I've
been living on the street since I got booted out of the Marines?"

The professor was disappointed, but he took my words at face value.

The questions went on.  Everything about my childhood.  The specifics of my
addiction to dust.  And then the part of my history that I had pulled out
of my ass.  Fake encounters with wolves in LA.  Visions of vampires in my
head as I started to realize I had some sort of gift.  All of it was
completely brilliant.  The professor and Agent Dyke were completely riveted
and totally sympathetic.

After it was all over, after the professor had amassed a ton of notes on my
personal history, he thanked me for my candidness.  "I have to write up a
report and put all of this on file," he told me.  "In the meantime, a
physical examination is in order.  Be nice to the doctor who is examining
you today," he said, smiling.  "I've appointed her as one of our team
members, our sideline medic, so to speak.  West, will you show him to
Medical?"

"Of course, Professor."  She looked at me and smiled.  "Come with me."

She led me out into one of the busy hallways.  As we walked, many of the
people we passed glanced at me with curiosity.  Not long enough to be rude
or obvious, just enough to let me know that I was probably the topic on
everyone's tongue.

"After hearing all of your history, I feel like I know you well," Agent
West said to me, smiling.  "Like an old friend.  If there's anything you
want to know about me, just ask."

"Okay," I said as we got into an elevator.

As it ascended, she turned to me with sudden urgency.  "Look, there's
something I really should tell you right off the bat," she said.  "It's
only appropriate that you know."

"What is it?" I asked hesitantly, worried that she was going to come out to
me or something.

"The professor doesn't know about this.  No one does."

"Okay."

"But you should know.  I'm pregnant."  She beamed happily, instinctively
putting a hand to her belly.

"Really?" that was surprising.  Who had she possibly gotten to knock her
up?  I suddenly realized that she probably had one of those artificial
inseminations.  That's what all the Dyke's did nowadays.  "You're not
showing."

"No, not yet," she said.  "I'm only two months in."

"Well, uh, congratulations," I said.

"Thank you!" she said, truly happy.  "I had planned on telling them as soon
as it became noticeable.  But honestly, I'm sure they wouldn't have givin
me this honor.  I mean, serving as the lead Agent on the Gifted's team,
that's the position all of the Bridge agents dream about.  But Bradley, I'm
here to train and protect you.  I can do that now, but in a few months,
granted it'll be a little difficult.  So, if you have any reservations,
I'll voluntarily back out of this position before we even get started."
She looked at me earnestly.

Really, I didn't give a shit whether or not she was pregnant, or who was on
my "team."  Little did any of my team members know that I was playing for
the other side.

I shrugged.  "I don't care if you're pregnant," I said.

She smiled warmly, totally tickled.  "That means so much to me.  But I
don't want you to worry.  Before, I was going to take a couple years off
when the baby came to be a mom.  But I've talked about this with my
husband, and he is the first one to tell me what an opportunity I have here
with you.  So, we've agreed.  After I've recovered from the birth, I'll
come back to work with you.  And my husband will stay at home and take care
of our child."

"Oh, okay," I said.  "Sounds reasonable."

"My husband is an agent as well," she said.  "The other Agent West in the
agency."  She pulled a picture out of her wallet (no, she didn't wear a
purse), and showed him to me.  A very handsome black guy smiled for the
camera.

"Great," I said, shocked to learn not only that she was heterosexual but
that she hand landed such a hot guy.  Dude must have had serious
psychological problems to marry this chick, I reasoned.  "Is that normal?
To marry inside the agency?"

She nodded emphatically.  "Oh yes," she said.  "All Bridge staff members
aren't allowed to give any information about their jobs to anyone outside
the agency, ever.  So, it's very difficult for us to make friends outside
the workplace, and almost impossible to marry a civilian, unless they can
find a way to be comfortable with ignorance."  She shook her head.
"Honestly, most of us keep our social lives completely contained within the
agency.  It's easy to do.  There's so many of us worldwide.  Each base has
extensive living quarters where most of us live among our peers.  You get a
whole lot of Agency families."

The elevator dinged, the door opened, and she led me once again through
busy hallways.  "My whole family is Agency," she told me as she walked.
"My parents were both agents, that's how they met.  My brother is an agent
as well.  My whole family exists only inside the Bridge."  She stopped at a
door.  "Here we are," she said, holding the door open for me.

Medical was a small hospital within the base, and took up almost the entire
floor.  Doctors, nurses, and other medical staff went about their business,
with various patients scattered around, most of them being treated for
routine illnesses.

The doctor who the professor spoke of soon came out to greet us, a tall,
slender Asian woman in a white lab coat carrying a clipboard in her arm.
Her long hair was tied back attractively behind her, and her face was very
beautiful, with perfect make-up highlighting her best features.  Looking
down her body, I noticed her C-cup breasts hidden under her folded arms,
and further down, below her lab coat, was the hem of a skirt, long,
gorgeous legs, and high heeled shoes.

Now this was a working chick I could handle.  She may not have had the
muscle of West, but she had something infinitely more powerful for a woman:
sex appeal.

Her smile as she met us was courteous but not the least bit warm.  "Agent
West," she said.  "Good to see you.  I see you have brought our new hero to
see me?"

"Yes, Doctor," she said.  "For his examination.  Bradley Wheeler is his
name."

The doctor looked at me but didn't offer her hand.  "I'm Doctor Stacy
Nguyen," she said to me, putting an accent on the last name that would have
been impossible for me to reproduce.  "Mr. Wheeler, please come back with
me.  Agent West may wait for you here."

I hurried along to follow Doctor Stacey as Agent West waved goodbye to me.
She walked in quick strides without glancing back at me.  "So, Stacey," I
said.  "I hear you and me will be on the same team."

"It seems that way, yes," she answered.  "Otherwise the professor would not
have asked me to personally perform your examination."

"So, Stacey," I began.

"Actually," she cut me off, "I prefer if you use my title."

"Okay," I said, smiling.  "Doctor Stacey."

She turned to look at me.  "Doctor Nguyen, Mr. Wheeler."

"Is that what your friends call you?  Doctor Nguyen?" I asked, butchering
the last name.

"They would if I had any," she said as she led me into an examination room.

I tsk-tsk-tsked her and said playfully, "If your friends address you so
formally, then what do your enemies call you?"

"My personal enemies?  They don't call me anything," she said, as she
motioned towards an examination table.

"Why is that?" I asked, as I walked towards her.

"Because all of them are either dead or quite incapable of speech."  She
snapped a pair of latex gloves over her slim fingers and red nails.
"Undress," she ordered.

I smiled and started to take off my shirt.  "How far down do you want me to
go?" I asked her.

"Oh, all the way down."

"Something tells me it's not medical procedure to make me get buck naked
for a basic examination," I said, but I was still undressing anyway.

"Is that what your gut tells you, Mr. Wheeler?" she asked, coyly.  "Perhaps
it is my intention to sexually harass you."

I pulled down my jockeys, leaving my balls dangling in the wind.  "Baby,
you go right ahead and do what you gotta do."

I noticed her eyes glance briefly down at my manhood.

I smirked, rubbing my toned torso in a slightly suggestive way.  "Exciting,
isn't it?" I asked her.

"Like a roller coaster," she said with dry sarcasm.  "Arms up,
Mr. Wheeler."

She came towards me, tracing her hands over my body with her gloved
fingers, eyeing every inch carefully, starting at my top and working her
way down.  When she got to my dick, she carefully lifted it and felt my
balls.

"Don't let that sucker intimidate you," I said to her.  "It may look like a
beast, but it has a gentle touch."

"I'll try and keep that in mind," she said, but before I could even think
about getting hard she stood up again.  "Turn around, Mr. Wheeler," she
said.

I smiled, turning slowly around, laughing knowingly.  "What's with chicks
and asses?" I asked.  "Chicks always gotta check out a guy's ass.  Well,
mine's as good as any, see?"

"Terrific," she said.

"And that's without flexing," I said.  "Want to see me clench?"

"No, Mr. Wheeler," she said.  "Instead, could you lean forward onto the
table and try to relax?"

I did as she asked and said, "Oh no.  I know where this is going.  You
medical types are always freaky like that.  Okay, if that's what it takes
for you to get your jollies off, then do your worst."

"Here it comes," she said.

I grunted as a finger lunged painfully into me.  "Hey, be gentle, it's my
first time."

She didn't respond, but I felt her feel around in my ass with her finger.
Then she pulled it out.  "You can stand up now," she said as she pulled her
gloves off and washed her hands.  I turned to face her as she picked up my
pile of clothes.  "I'm going to be right back.  Please put on the provided
gown."

She left the room, carrying the clothes, and I looked at the gown beside
me.  I didn't feel any urgency to cover up again so quickly, and considered
just leaving it.  But then I worried that someone else might walk in on my
while the doctor was away, so I reluctantly put the thing on.

When she came back into the room, she did not have my clothes with her.
"I'm going to draw some blood for some procedural tests," she said,
procuring a syringe.

"Alright," I said as she disinfected my arm.  "I can handle it."

"This will just be a little poke," she said as she readied the needle.

"Funny," I said with a smile.  "I'm usually the one who does the poking.
Quite good at it, so I'm told."

"So am I, Mr. Wheeler," she said as she slipped the needle into me.

After collecting blood, she checked my vision, my heart, my lungs, and took
my blood pressure.  I was just enjoying having this beauty touch my body.

Finally she said, "All done here, Mr. Wheeler.  I'll have someone bring in
your clothes."

I got up off the table.  "Are you sure you don't want me to get naked
again?  For old times sake?"

"No, Mr. Wheeler.  I've already seen everything you've got.  The mystery is
gone, I'm afraid."

"Well," I said, raising an eyebrow.  "You haven't seen EVERYTHING I've got.
I'd be happy to show you if you gave me the proper incentive."

"Mr. Wheeler, let's get one thing straight," she said, her calm demeanor
suddenly becoming sharp.  "You seem to think that you are James Bond and I
am some easy floozy.  You are wrong on both accounts.  I am a grown woman,
and you are just a bratty little boy.  In the interest of professionalism,
let's pretend that you never made that pass at me, shall we?"

I just laughed to myself.  Couldn't she take some good natured flirting?
Fuck, it wasn't like I would have ever gone through with anything.

She walked towards the door.

"You know where to find me if you change your mind!" I yelled.  "I'm
growing up fast!"

"Good day, Mr. Wheeler."

I laughed as she walked out of the room.  Even when they outright refuse
you, the chase can still be fun.

Moments later Agent West came in and completely deflated my half hardon.
She was holding my clothes in her arms.  "Lose something?" she asked,
smiling as she handed me my clothes.

"What did you do to these?" I asked suspiciously.

"They've been searched," she said.  "As have the rest of your possessions
in your room.  As well as you yourself.  We had to be sure there was
nothing planted on you."

"Yeah, and what's the verdict?" I asked.

"You're clean.  Oh, go ahead and change, I promise I won't peek."  She spun
around and face away from me as I started to put my clothes back on.  "I'm
supposed to have you down in the meeting room.  The professor's orders.
You have two more team members to meet."

"Are they as hot as Doctor Stacey?" I asked.

She laughed.  "Well, since one of them is an overweight man, I'm guessing
you'll at least be halfway disappointed."

"And the other one?"

"Well, she's definitely a girl," West offered.

"Good.  I'm dressed.  Take me down."

*****

A few minutes later Agent West and I were sitting back in the meeting room
with the professor at the head of the table.  "I trust your introduction to
the doctor went well," he told me.

"Oh yes," I said.

"Good," he said.  "She'll be on site on all of our missions.  If anything
happens to any of the team, which it likely will at some point, she'll be
the one there to treat them.  She very well could save your life.  A mutual
respect is of paramount importance."

He picked up his cell and dialed.  "We're ready for both of you," he said.

Almost immediately, the door opened and two very different figures came in.

"Bradley, I'd like you to meet the two technical experts in our team,
Donald Myers and Julie Medina."

"Hello," I said, waving my hand but not bothering to stand.

"Myers is our Com Tech Operative, or CTO," said the professor.  "Although
not an agent, he has enough combat training for you to bring him along in
the field.  His expertise is in anything dealing with computers, and if you
have any questions about our computers systems, you ask him."

"Every system in the Bridge is routed through our computer network," Myers
said.  He was a tall, fat white man with an untrimmed beard and long hair,
repulsive to look at.  "So don't discount my importance."

"Oh, I won't," I said, remembering my real purpose here.

"And Julie Medina is our Technology Engineer."

The chick stepped forward awkwardly but with a glowing smile upon her face.
"Don't worry about my title.  A lot of people wonder what my job is at
first, and I just tell them that I'm the Q of the group.  I get to think up
fun nifty toys and give them to you to play with."  Her voice was high
pitched and bubbly, as sweet as a young girl's.  She was a petite Hispanic
woman, with her curly dark brown hair a mess behind her.  Her face was
amazingly sweet, but she wore no make-up.  Luckily, her lips and cheeks
were naturally very rosy.  She was dressed not in a suit, but in a messy
pair of jeans and a T-shirt.  If this chick was capable of cleaning up, she
would actually be very cute.  As is, though, she just looked a mess.

"She doesn't go on our assignments," the professor explained.  "She stays
on base."

"Oh, thank God," she said sweetly.  "If they took me along I'd probably be
the first one to get shot.  Nope, I'm better off staying right here, safely
surrounded by all my toys."

"Thank you, Medina," the professor said.  "That's all for now."

She left, smiling at everyone sweetly.  I almost expected her to curtsy as
she made her exit.

"Myers," the professor said, "now that Bradley has passed our screening,
will you take him and get him set up?  I want him in the system by the end
of the day."

"Right, professor," Myers said.  He motioned for me.  "Come along."

"I'll tag along as well," Agent West said.

"Meeting adjourned," said the professor.

*****

Myers's office was clustered with all of the other CTO offices, all of
which wrapped around a sort of rotunda filled with round, cushioned benches
and coffee tables.  As we entered the rotunda from the hallway, I looked
around the large round room.  Around this sitting room there were a dozen
or so small offices, each blocked off from the main room with curved glass
walls, meaning you could easily see into every office and watch every
present CTO, though only about half of the offices were occupied that
afternoon.

West and I were uncomfortably crowded into Myers's office, not because it
was overly small, but rather because it was jam packed with his crap.

It was messy, with junk tossed around the floor, discarded food wrappers on
the desk, and an overwhelming smell of rank sweat sock and mold.  This is
the overwhelming smell that this one man created.  What a total slob.

Myers typed away, looking at his computer screen, while West and I stood
by.

"Yeah, okay," Myers said, stepping away from the screen.  "Enter your
password now."

I sat down in his place and entered the password "Justice" while Myers and
West looked away.

"I can't believe they're giving him level 5 verification," Myers said.
"I've been here slaving away for more than a decade and I'm only up to
level 4."

"Well," West said.  "I guess it's only logical, given that he is who he
is."

"What about you?  What level did they give you?"

There was a pause.  "I thought we weren't supposed to share that
information with each other."

"West, please," Myers responded.  "I have access to the verification level
list on my computer.  All I have to do is look you up."

"Alright," she said.  "I'm level 5."

"You too?" Myers squeaked.  "No fucking way.  They discriminate against
CTO's here.  Always have, always will."

"I'm done here," I said, interrupting.

"Good, get out of my chair," Myers said, practically shoving me out before
sitting down again.  "With that, you are a full member of the agency," he
told me.  He handed me a keycard.  "This will get you through any
non-private, locked door.  It's also coded with your own room unlock code.
You are no longer a guest here, you go where you please when you please.
Since you are a level fiver, that means you can go just about anywhere, you
lucky fuck."  His tone was more resentful than jovial.  "Oh, there's just
one restriction.  You won't be allowed out the front entrance.  Safety
measured imposed just on you."

"Otherwise you'd be hunted down by werewolves as soon as you left base,"
West said.

"So, do I get a computer now?" I asked hopefully.

"Not until they assign you an office," Myers said.  "Until then, if you
want to access the network, come and see me."

West smiled.  "Which you should absolutely take advantage of," she said.
"The Bridge's network has a library on it that pretty much has our entire
history in digital format.  Once you sit down and start reading, you can
spend hours at the computer before you even realize it."

*****

That night, Sam came to me just like the night before.  He offered advice,
support, and, of course, his cum, all of which I took eagerly.  Wired and
completely thankful for his presence, I ended staying up most of the night
talking with him, forcing the poor guy to just hover there, his wings
working hard hour upon hour just so he could stay with me.

That morning my bedside alarm woke me up at 8:00.  I cringed at the
intruding noise.  My body wanted so badly to go back to sleep and snooze
through the day, that's what my body was used to.

Alas, I had a scheduled meeting with Agent West and the professor
downstairs in an hour.  I had to go or they would surely come looking for
me.  Like the demon had told me, I couldn't do anything to arouse
suspicion.  I rolled out of bed and made it neatly.

Yawning and rubbing my bleary eyes, I quickly showered and dressed, grabbed
my keycard, and made for the door.

I stopped cold when I reached the door, looking down at my feet.  There, on
the floor, was a disc in a jewel case.  It obviously had been slipped under
my door sometime during the night.  It had come sooner than I expected it
to.

I picked it up and opened the case.  The disc inside was unmarked,
completely benign looking.

Now, all I had to do was to get some alone time with a computer.

I slipped the disc into the side pocket of my cargo pants and left my room.

After breakfast in the busy cafeteria, which I had discovered the previous
night, I walked towards the meeting room, trying to formulate a plan of
action that would get me computer access, trying to focus in spite of my
overwhelming sleepiness.

The professor and West were waiting for me in the meeting room.  After they
both had greeted me and asked me to sit, the professor let me know that
today they would start with my education, a process that, when completed,
would leave me a regular expert on the subjects of angels, vampires, and
werewolves.  Until we had joined up with the other two agents in our team,
the instruction would be carried out entirely by the professor and West.

I noticed the addition of a new piece of furniture that had not been in the
room the previous day, a wooden podium positioned at the far end of the
room.  It wasn't hard to imagine that the professor had asked for this
personally.

The professor was the first to mount the podium that morning, and once he
did, his snooze-inducing lecture about the Bridge's early history began,
and I immediately tuned out, reminding myself that there was a very good
reason why I had never wanted to go to college.

I imagined that if I had gone to college, I would have sat somewhere in the
back of a crowded lecture hall, where I would be free to pass in and out of
concentration and possibly consciousness without ever being noticed by the
professor.  Here, I was the only pupil in the room, and I was sitting in
the front row.  Although the professor's eyes spent a great deal of time
moving around the room, as if surveying an invisible audience, the majority
of the time, he was looking right at me.  Which required me at least to
pretend like I was listening.

I pretended for an interminable amount of time before the professor finally
stepped down from his podium, and I said a silent prayer of thanks to God.
But the gratitude, it seemed, was premature, because as quickly as the
professor stopped rambling, West began.

Granted, her lecture was much more dynamic that the professors.  She was
naturally more amiable and well-spoken, and she walked around the room
instead of camping out behind the podium, but it was still a lecture.

Worst of all, she was showing slides, some images that purportedly showed
the history of angels, and because of that, she had the lights dimmed.

I didn't listen to any part of her lecture, instead leaning back in my seat
and watching the slides.  Soon, the slides went fuzzy, not the fault of the
projector but of my eyes.  And then I was asleep.

Someone was shaking me gently.

"Bradley?" a female voice called.

I opened my eyes.  The lights were back on, and West was hovering over me,
an amused smile on her face.  "You were sleeping.  Snoring, even."

"I'm sorry," I said, sitting up straight and forcing my eyes wide open.
"It was just for a second."

"Actually, I let you sleep for more then twenty minutes," she said.  "Tell
me, how much of my lecture did you actually absorb?  What's the last thing
you remember?"

"Honestly?  You turning on the slide projector."

"That's ALL you remember?"

"Look, it's not my fault," I said.  "I have narcolepsy."

"You didn't tell us that before," the professor said, reminding me that he
was still in the room.

"I forgot to mention it."

"So," West said, dubiously, "you could fall asleep at any time?"

I worried that this made-up explanation would end up with me wearing some
sort of safety helmet around the base, and decided to underplay it.  "No,
it just turns up when I've been sitting around for a long time," I said.
"I need to sit around less, be active more."

"Alright," said the professor.  "Why don't we take a break?  Meet back here
in, say, and hour?"

"Agreed," West said.  "Maybe you should go to the cafeteria and get
yourself a coffee, Bradley."

"Good advice."

*****

Instead of the cafeteria, I went into the CTO rotunda, fingering the disc
in my pocket, knowing that it so badly wanted me to upload its secrets to
the Bridge's network.

I looked around the place.  Only four of the small offices were occupied,
including Myers visible in his through the glass wall, punching away at the
keyboard with one hand and stuffing his fat face with snacks with the
other.  All the other offices were empty.

I stopped in the middle of the room, looking around at the empty offices.
If I could just slip into one of them without the CTOs seeing, I could log
on and upload this disc.

As I spun around, examining my options, I noticed a hot blonde CTO in an
office across the rotunda from Myers's.  She was looking right at me,
suspiciously.

Reacting quick, I looked right past her and continued to spin around,
making myself look as lost as possible.  When I faced a hallway leading out
that was marked "restroom," I nodded with an "ah, there!" sort of gesture,
and confidently walked towards the bathroom.

I spent a minute or so in the bathroom, waiting out her suspicion.  When I
came back into the rotunda, I did so slowly and sneakily.  The blonde's
eyes were back where they fucking should be, on her fucking monitor, and
none of the other CTO's were looking out into the rotunda either.

With stealth, I slipped my way to the first dark office and went for the
door.

Shit.  The door was locked.  The handle wouldn't budge.

I crept to the next dark office, keeping an eye on the CTO's.

Locked again.  I cursed under my breath.

Then an idea come to me.  I pulled my keycard out of my pocket and tried it
in the door.

Nothing but a flashing red "no access" light.  Fuck.  There was no way into
these empty offices.  I'd have to use a computer in one of the offices in
use.

I noticed the blonde was once again eyeing me suspiciously.  Damnit, mind
your own Goddamn business, bitch!  Why the hell was such a hottie a CTO
geek anyway?  I bet she could have played with any joystick she wanted, so
why the hell was she slaving away in that dark office?

To allay her suspicions, I walked over to Myers's office and knocked on the
glass wall.  Myers looked up at me from behind his monitor, not exactly
happy to see me.  I made sure to smile warmly at him.

"Can I come in, bud?" I asked him.  I tried the handle, but it was locked.

"It's locked," Myers said from inside.  He got up and opened the door for
me.

As I stood back to allow the door to open, I quickly glanced across the
room at the blonde.  She was no longer looking at me, thankfully.  She must
have figured that my presence here had some sort of purpose.

"What's going on?" Myers asked me as I stepped inside, the glass door
shutting behind me slowly.  "Is something going on with the team?  Because,
if there is, you can always just call me on my cell.  You don't have to
come all the way down here."  Which was another way of telling me that he
didn't appreciate being bothered.

"Nothing's going on," I said.  "I just had a break and thought I'd come and
visit my bud."

"Your bud?" he asked with cynicism, taking a sip from a can of cola.  "You
just came to play on my computer, didn't you?"

"Maybe," I admitted.

"Mmm-hmm."

"But only for educational purposes," I said.  "Agent West told me that I
should review the online library, remember?  I don't have a computer of my
own, so..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said.  "And I'm not doing anything but fucking
around playing online games in here."

"I didn't say that," I defended myself.

"No, I said it," he said.  "Look."

He motioned for me to come over to his desk, and I walked through the junk
on the floor to see what was on his computer monitor.  The son of a bitch
was actually playing a computer game, some shoot-em-up type deal that tried
to simulate what it was like to be in combat, vainly, in my opinion.

"Let me finish this round and then I'll get off," he said.

I stood behind him, watching him play for a while.  He certainly didn't
rush to finish things up on my account.  Finally, he closed down the game
and logged off.

"You know how to log on, don't you?" he asked me, getting out of the chair.

"I do," I said, remembering from yesterday.

I entered my name and my password as I sat down, and he politely looked
away.  Then he showed me how to access the network's library.

He opened a bag of Peanut M&M's, not one of those small bags, but a big
huge one that is supposed to last a normal person weeks, and proceeded to
consume most of the damn thing while he lingered over my shoulder, pulling
back only long enough to toss the M&M's up in the air and catch them with
his mouth, crunching loudly with each bite.  The ones that missed his mouth
and ended up on the floor he didn't bother to pick up, I suppose with the
knowledge that any attempt to make this room in any way tidy was a complete
act of futility.

He was bugging me.  I couldn't do what I had to do with him watching me
like that, and with me just pretending to read the online files, I had
nothing to distract me from listening to the crunch, crunch, crunch of his
chomping and feeling his hot breath on my neck.

"I'm going to be here for a while," I said, trying to drop a hint.

"Go ahead and take your time," he told me.  But he still hovered right
behind me, reading the files as I pretended to read them as well.

He couldn't stand behind me forever, I told myself.  He was so fat his
knees and ankles would have to give out sooner or later from the pressure
of holding up all that blubber.  He'd get tired, and since there was no
other chair in this office except the one I was in, he'd go somewhere else
to sit down.

I was right about the guy needing to sit down.  But apparently the fat-ass
was too lazy to even go find a proper chair.  He just knocked some shit off
a low filing cabinet behind us and rested his lard upon that surface, the
cabinet's metal frame creaking and groaning from the extreme weight.

I sighed, looking at the clock.  There was only twenty minutes left until I
had to be back in the "classroom," and I was no closer to accomplishing my
goal here.

Then I had a thought.  "I'm gonna have to leave here pretty soon," I told
Myers, "but I still have so much more I wanna read here.  I was thinking
about coming here during my lunch hour."

"Sure, if that's what you need to do," he said.  "But bring your own food.
I'm not gonna feed you here."

"I will.  So, don't leave for lunch before letting me in, okay?" I asked,
knowing I had found my chance to be alone with the computer.

"You won't have to worry about that," he said.  There was something not
exactly reassuring about the way that he said it.

"Why not?"

"Because, I don't ever leave for lunch.  I bring my own food or have it
delivered to me here.  Today I'm ordering a pizza.  If you have it
delivered to the entrance of the building, they'll have a Bridge staff
member deliver it right to you.  It's un-fucking-believable, man."

"Oh, great," I said, silently cursing this guy again for being the laziest
fuck on the face of the planet.  He had just blown my lunch plans to shit.
"Well, maybe I won't come back at lunch," I said.  "I was thinking about
eating with West."

"Whatever you want," he mumbled through a mouthful of M&M's.  He had
stopped with the inefficiency of tossing them into his mouth one at a time,
and now was just pouring a bunch in at once straight from the bag.  It
amazed me that he could still be hungry for a pizza for lunch after a
midmorning snack big enough to feed a starving African kid for a month.

I looked over the files onscreen with new energy, with one real hope left.
He had been taking swigs out of a liter bottle of Coke to wash all the
chocolate and peanuts down with.  Unless fat guys had bigger bladders than
the rest of us, which he certainly had room for in that huge body, then he
would have to take a piss sooner or later.  I just prayed that he wasn't so
lazy when that time came that he would pull out a piss jar from some drawer
somewhere to relieve himself with.

Finally, just a few minutes before I had to leave again, he announced that
he was gonna make a trip to the bathroom.  I thanked the Lord for this
favor as Myers wiped his chocolate-covered hands on his shirt, which had
such a garishly colorful, complex pattern that it seemed purposely designed
to hide food stains.  I wondered how long it had been since he had last
washed it.

As soon as the fat man left the office and turned towards the bathroom, I
jerked my hand down towards my cargo pocket and retrieved the disk.
Keeping the case open on my lap, I slipped the disc in its tray and opened
up my network space.  There was one file, a ".exe" file, on the disk.  I
dragged and dropped it to my network space.

A little box popped up, telling me it was "transferring the file" and
showing a bar that was estimating the progress I had left before the
transfer was complete.

Shit, it must have been one large file, because it was taking awhile to
transfer.

A minute had passed.  Then two.  And the transfer was still not complete.

"Go, go, go!" I urged, pounding on the computer, wanting to finish and get
the hell out of there.

But the inevitable happened instead.  Fat-ass had left the bathroom and was
lumbering back towards the office.

"Shit, shit, finish goddamnit!" I yelled.

But I knew that if he caught me in the act, all of this would be over.  I
would have failed everyone.

As he pulled his keycard out and worked in into the lock, I cancelled the
file transfer, pulled the disc out, and put it back in my pocket.

"Can you show me how to log off?" I asked him.  "I think I'm done with
computers for the day."

*****

"...and that is why, you must know that you at any moment may be killed in
the line of duty," the professor was professing from the podium.  "You must
kill whenever you must kill.  This is the only surefire way to-"

A miniature digital orchestra belted out Beethoven's 5th from the inside of
the professor's jacket.  Alarmed at the intrusive sound at first, he
realized its source and pulled his phone out of his pocket.  "Excuse me,
let me take this.  Hello?  Medina?  Yes, I did call earlier.  I was
wondering if everything was all set for tomorrow."

Beside me, West turned and put a hand over mine on the table in a friendly
gesture.  "It can be a lot to swallow, I know," she said, probably picking
up on the fact that I had a lot on my mind and assuming it was related to
the professor's death speech, never guessing that my mind was on the disc
in my pocket.  "I had years to digest all of the information that is being
thrust at you right now.  Even then, it wasn't all easy.  Especially the
part where I was expected to lay my life on the line all for the purpose of
some abstract greater good.  It didn't seem worth it at first."

I looked away from her smiling face, her earnest eyes, down at her hand
covering my own.  Her fingernails weren't painted and were cut short, like
a man's.  But her fingers were the slender instruments of a woman, and her
palm was soft.

"But maturity is an underrated quality," she continued.  "I got older, and
I learned to be brave.  The same will happen to you with time, I am sure of
it.  Until then, I will always be here at your back.  To get you out of
whatever kind of trouble you can get yourself into, okay?  Just thought you
should know that."

I looked back at her face.  She smiled again at me, and I smiled back.

"Let's break for a late lunch," the professor said, turning off his phone
and setting it down on the podium in front of him.

"I could use a good meal," West said, pulling her hand away from mine and
collecting her things.

"Meet back here in an hour?" the professor asked, putting his papers on the
table back into his briefcase.

"Alright, Professor," West said.

"Will you come with me, Alissa?" asked the professor as he stepped through
the door.  "We could go to that Greek restaurant around the corner."

"That sounds like fun," West said.  "But I thought I'd join Bradley in the
cafeteria for lunch today.  That is, if he'd like my company."

"Of course," I said, starting to follow the two of them out the door.

Then my eye caught something on the podium.  The professor's cell.
Thoughts whizzed through my mind.

"Actually, West, you go on ahead to the Greek place," I said.  "I'll have
lunch with you next time."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Of course.  Meet you back here in an hour."

When I saw them disappear around the corner, I ran to the podium and picked
up the phone, flipping it open.  No security passcode on the thing.

I waited for a good ten minutes for the professor to come back, just in
case he realized what he was missing.  When he didn't come, I tucked the
phone into my pocket and ran out of the room.

I went straight for the CTO rotunda.  When I got there, I looked around,
taking in my surroundings.  Just three CTO's were in there office now; the
hot blonde, an Asian dude, and Myers, who was stuffing his face with pizza
slices in his office.

I breezed through the rotunda, trying not to attract any attention to
myself, and took cover in the hallway that led to the bathrooms.  I was
pretty sure I had walked across the room without catching Myers's eye.

I pulled out the professor's cell.  Myers number was programmed in here,
just like all the other team member's.  But I didn't call him.  I texted
him.

"Myers, meet me in the conference room as soon as you can," I had written.
Afterwards I put the cell back in my pocket.

I waited there a couple minutes, staring at the outside of Myers's office,
wondering why the hell he wasn't coming out.  Finally, he opened his door
and hustled his fat ass towards the rotunda exit.

I bolted forwards.  All these CTO office doors closed slowly.  Making sure
to move with a silence and speed that I learned in the Marines, I made it
to his door just before it slammed shut, sticking my fingers inside.

Myers disappeared out of the room in front of me.  I looked across the
rotunda.  The blonde chick was staring at her computer.  She didn't seem to
notice me.

I pulled the door open carefully and ducked inside the office.  I didn't
dare turn on the lights, any sign that someone was in here would give me
away.

I crawled behind Myer's desk, keeping low so as to keep out of view of the
blond.

When I sat down in his desk chair, I leaned forward to keep my body hidden
behind the computer in front of me.

I logged on and inserted the disk into the drive.  I once again started to
transfer the file.

And once again, the transfer was fucking slow.

"Come on, come on, let's go!" I muttered, tapping the annoying
"transferring file" box on the screen.

After a couple minutes, the phone in my pocket beeped.  I pulled it out; I
had received a text message.

It was from Myers.  "You're not in here," it said.

I anxiously folded the cell back up and put it back in my pocket, looking
back at the screen.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

Startled, I jumped down, crouching on the ground.  That dumb blonde bitch
was knocking on the door.  Had she seen me in the dark?

"Myers, are you in there?" she asked, her voice muffled through the glass.
"I'm having a coding problem I want you to take a look at."

The bitch must not have seen me, I realized.  If I just waited in silence
without arousing suspicion, she would leave.

Beethoven's 5th came out of my pock with such volume it almost gave me a
heart attack.

"Are you in there?" the blonde bitch asked again.

I covered my pocket, trying to cover up the sound, but the music was so
fucking loud, I knew she must have heard it.  I pulled the phone out,
noticing on the caller ID that Myers was calling.  I answered the call and
hung up on him as quickly as my thumb could manage.

Blissful silence.

"I guess not," the blonde muttered after a while.

Was she really gone?  I was scared to get up so I could take a look.  I
would just wait here for a bit.

A beep on the cell.  I looked; another text message.

"You're not around so I'm leaving," Myers had written.

Which meant he was on his way back here.  Shit.  The time for hiding had
ended.

I slowly crept upwards, peering over the desk.

The nosey blonde was back in her office where she belonged.  I sat back
down at the desk.

YES!  The file had completed its transfer.  Now, what exactly was I
supposed to do next?  I double clicked on the file I had just transferred.
That seemed to open the virus.  That would do it, I realized.  With that,
the demons would have their access to all of it.

I opened the disc tray and put my disc away.  I logged out quickly, knowing
that I had to get the hell out of here before Myers came back.

When I looked up, away from the computer, it was at the sickening sight of
that fat slob walking right towards the door.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!  It was too fucking late!

I slipped down to the ground as he slid his keycard through.  Having no
real reason to try and hide, knowing sure well he would find me sooner or
later, I still crawled back under his deep desk.

I heard his door open, heard his footsteps coming into the office, heard
the heaviness of his breaths.

I knew when he found me in here, he would know I was a traitor.  All of my
computer activity would be traced.  They would find the virus and they
would squash it before it had time to do any damage.  There was no way I
could bullshit out of this one.

Myers came and sat down in his desk chair as I plastered myself against the
back of Myer's desk.  I suddenly became aware how filthy and disgusting it
was down there.  I was lying in a bed of burger wrappers, pizza crusts, and
discarded caramel corn.

He kicked off his sneakers and extended his dingy, smelly sock-covered feet
towards me, flexing his fat little toes.  I pushed harder backwards, his
toes coming within inches of my face.  Any further and he would know I was
there.

I heard the sounds of a computer game being fired up above me.  I didn't
know how long I could hold myself in this position without making a sound.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

"Myers, could you help me out in my office?"  It was the blonde's voice.
What at once had been painful now seemed Heaven sent.

"Sure," Myers said, and he stood up.

I relaxed my body as I heard the office door open and shut.  After a
moment, I got out from under the desk and peered out.

Myers and the blonde were both in her office.

I carefully slid out of the room and out of the CTO area, vowing never to
go back.

I had done it.  I had really done it.

Now, all the rest of it was a cakewalk.  All I had to do was wait.  Nine
days.

I couldn't wait to tell Sam about my accomplishments.

When the professor, West, and I resumed after lunch, West gave me a funny
look as she walked behind me.  "You must have been hungry today," she said.

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Because you have three Milky Way wrappers stuck on your back.  Shall I
remove them for you?"

"Yes, please."

*****

That night, Sam came later than usual, leaving me anxiously pacing my room,
waiting for him.  When he did show up, he was visibly exuberant.

"The virus is already working," he told me.  "I just off the phone with the
demons.  They're transferring the Bridge's files as we speak."

Thank God.  I can't take much more of this place.

"Start counting the days, Bradley," he told me.  "On the ninth day, all of
this will be over."

Please, Sam.  Just kiss me.

*****

The next morning, after my breakfast in the cafeteria, I came to my lessons
with a large cup of coffee in my hand.

Agent West was waiting for me there.  She smiled and pointed to the coffee.
"I see you've come prepared for your lessons today," she joked.  "I like
it.  You alert and ready to learn?"

"I'm ready," I said.

"Well, too bad," she said.  "There won't be any lessons today."

"No?" I asked, silently thanking the Lord.

"Go up to your room and get your things," she said.

I was taken aback.  "Why?  Am I changing rooms?"

She laughed.  "Most certainly.  Come on, hurry up.  I'll be waiting for you
here."

I didn't like being told to hurry by this power-tripping chick, and I
didn't bother rushing as I went back into my room and packed up my things,
but it didn't take me long in any case.  I worried about changing rooms; it
made me wonder if Sam would still be able to find me.  What if my new room
didn't have a window that opened?  What then?  I would be fucked.

That's ridiculous, I told myself.

Sam would find me wherever they put me.  And, fuck, if my new window didn't
open, I'd just smash the thing.

I reappeared downstairs with my bag over my shoulder.

"That's it?" West said, looking at my backpack.  "All of your possessions
are in that little bag?"

I shrugged.  "I don't got much," I said.  "Don't need it."

"Wow," she said.  "You make me look like a princess.  I packed two
gargantuan bags.  Take your puny little bag and follow me."

"Where are we going?" I asked as she led me into the hall.

"Downstairs."

She took me down to huge garage obviously used to park and unload trucks.
One such truck was backed in through the open garage door, its tail end
perched over a concrete stand and its back door open.

Two uniformed drivers were loading luggage into the truck.

"I'll take that for you," one of the drivers told me, grabbing my bag and
taking it to the back of the truck.

"The boy with the fate of the world in his hands has come," said a
sarcastic voice that I recognized as belonging to Dr. Nguyen.  I turned my
head, and sure enough, there the dame was, dressed in a black skirt that
showed off her thighs and a tight silk blouse, whose smooth surface clung
perfectly to her breasts.

"You look good without a labcoat, Doctor," I said, my eyes never reaching
her face.

She rolled her eyes and carried a suitcase, putting it into the back of a
red Corolla that was parked in the garage a few feet from the truck.
Standing in or around the car, all in plainclothes, were Myers, Medina, and
the professor.  Myers and Medina were involved in a game of `Slaphands,'
something she seemed to be enjoying with childlike enthusiasm, while he
looked more like he wanted to be saved from playing this ridiculous game
with this crazy girl.

The professor noticed my arrival and waved hello.  He was dressed in a pair
of old man Dockers and a red wool sweater V-neck pulled over a button-up
and tie, obviously his idea of dressing down.

"I've told everyone to dress plainly so that we won't arouse any unwanted
attention," he told me.

"Where are we going?" I asked eagerly.

"It's best that you don't know that," the professor said.  "We'll be out in
the open, and you still haven't learned how to block your mind from psychic
intrusions."

"Angels, he means," West told me, almost in a whisper.  "It's unlikely that
we'll encounter any here in America, but just to be safe."

Behind the professor, Medina erupted into giggles and started jumping up
and down.  "Ah-ah," she called, mockingly.  "Too slow, man, too slow!  My
hands may not be the size of yours, big guy, but they got the speed!  Let's
play again!"

"Uh, Julie," Myers said, pointing behind her towards me.  "He's here.  We
don't have to play anymore games.  We can leave now."

She spun around and looked at me, smiling.  "Oh, hey there!" she said.  She
spun around to face Myers.  "I know I said we could play cargames together
in the backseat," she told him.  "But I kinda thought I'd ride with Brad
over there.  Is that okay?"

"Yeah, you go do your thing," he said, obviously grateful to unload her.

She got up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.  "You are such a
sweet guy," she said.  Then she turned to face me, smiling.  "I've got
something beyond cool to show you, Mister.  And I expect you to be
impressed.  Come with me."

She walked over to the back of the truck, and I followed.

"Check out this baby," she said, stepping into the truck, struggling to
push aside the luggage in her way.

Beyond the few feet set aside for the bags, there was what looked like a
large, white-metal safe.  It was about as tall and as wide as the truck
cabin, and had a door upon it.  It took up the majority of the cargo space.

"Do you like?" Medina asked me.  "I built the thing months ago just in case
we should have use for it.  And now, it is needed."

"I have no fucking clue what it is," I said.

She laughed, and opened the door.  "It's your own private cabin," she said,
directing me inside.

The inside was a well lit little room, with chairs, a couple cots, a radio
and TV.

Medina knocked on the walls.  "Check out these walls.  That's military
grade titanium.  These things are completely wolf proof.  Sound proof, and
more importantly, smell proof.  And in case we are attacked, nothing's
getting through these walls unless you open the door.  There's even
bathroom in the corner, and a friggin DVD player!"  Her enthusiasm sunk.
"Course, that won't be much help to you unless you happened to bring along
some DVD's.  Where's your bag?"

I pointed to it, it was in the back of the truck.  "Back there."

She picked it up and carried it into the steel room.  "Well, thing is, I
guess even your clothes smell like you.  I'm sure it's not a bad smell or
anything, it's just a you-smell, and the wolves know it.  We need to keep
all of your things in here while we travel.  And I thought I'd hang out
with you during the trip, keep you some company, see how my little box is
holding up."

"I'll be with you as well," West said, coming into the metal room.  I
noticed she had a gun on a holster in her hip.  They must have really been
concerned about my safety.  If they really knew, they'd give me the gun and
leave it out of the hands of this chick.  A chick with a gun can never be a
good thing.  There's been studies to prove it.

"Oh!" Medina said, smiling at West.  "The more the merrier, Alissa!  Come
on in and join the cool kids."

"Can I shut this thing now?" West asked about the door.

"Yup, go right on ahead!"

West shut and locked the door.  I could hear the fans come on above us.
There must have been some air filtration system going on above us.

Medina clapped her hands together.  "Should we play a game of some sort?  I
brought Uno and Fluxx!"

"No, please, no games," I said, sitting down in a chair as the truck
started to move.  I was so concerned about leaving.  How far were we going,
and would Sam be able to find me?  I reached out for him with my mind
almost on instinct, then reminded myself that it was the daytime and he
would be asleep.  He wouldn't even know I was gone until sunset, and then
who knows how far we would have gone.  How the fuck would he find me again?

"Okay, no games.  I can handle that."  Medina turned towards Alissa.  "You
have such pretty long hair, Alissa," she said.  "I'll braid it for you if
you'd like!"

"Uh, I haven't had my hair braided since I was twelve, but if you want to,
go for it," West said graciously, sitting down.  "Braid away."

And so, as we drove further and further away from Sam, all I had to look at
was a nerdy chick braiding the hair of a dowdy one.  Not the kind of girl
on girl action that tended to appeal to me.

As we started to leave the city, stuck in one of LA's typical freeway
traffic jams, my thoughts could not be pulled from Sam.  I tapped my toes
and cracked my knuckles anxiously, wanting so badly to open up this moving
cage and jump out of this fucker.  But above all else, I had to remember my
mission.  I could not arouse suspicion until the virus had done its thing
and my allies made their attack.

"Oh-my," Julie moaned as the truck came to another quick stop.  We'd been
stopping and going for quite some time now.

"What is it?" West asked, looking at Julie in the face.  Her braids were
only halfway done.

Julie fanned her face and forced a sweet smile.  "Oh, nothing!  Just, you
know, I'm used to having a window to look out of when I'm in a car.  And
now that we've hit traffic, seems like I've got a little tummy upset is
all."  She wiped her face.  "I'll be fine, I'm sure.  I'll just sit down
and pretend I can see out a window."

The truck sped up again, and Julie's face turned white.

"Better yet, I think I'll go sit and pretend in the bathroom," she said,
and hobbled over to the bathroom, opening the door and lowering her face to
the toilet.

West looked at me and cringed silently.  "If you need help in there just
let me know!" West said.

"That's so sweet, but I'm fine, really!"

After a few minutes, Julie came out of the bathroom, her normal
cheerfulness still present but seriously dampened.  "Whew.  I guess I'm not
gonna throw up," she said.

"Well, that's always good," West said.

The truck made a sudden turn to the left, causing all of us to be pulled to
the right.  As Julie grabbed onto the wall to keep herself from falling
over, she also spewed out a stream of orange vomit.  Suddenly the wall of
the cell was painted in orange.

"Oh crap," she said afterwards.  "I'm so, so sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it, hun," West said, helping Julie back to the bathroom.
"Maybe it would be best if you moved to the car."

"Maybe it would," she said.

"The sooner the better," I added, the smell of the puke stinging my
nostrils.

West called someone on her cell and had the truck pull over somewhere.
Julie left, apologetic, and the drivers came in and mopped up her puke
before we went on again.

An hour or so later, as my anxieties grew, West turned to me and wrinkled
her nose.  "The smell's not going away, is it."

"Nope.  If anything it's only gotten stronger."

"It's the air filtration in here.  Keeps the smells inside.  I would bet
that the smell won't go away until we get there.  And believe me, we have a
loooong way to go."

So, we were going somewhere really far.  My worst fears were coming true.
Sam would be cut off from me, and there'd be no way for him to find me.

*****

We drove all day, through the night, and into the next morning, stopping
just for food and gas.  Every stop, West would ask me if I needed anything
before leaving the cage I was in.  She'd bring back whatever food I had
requested, along with her own food, and we'd eat together.  During the
night, the two of us slept on the cots.

Sleep that night didn't come easy.  I had gone a whole day without drinking
any of Sam's cum.  My stomach twisted with a painful hunger, one that would
not be satisfied by food.  My thoughts turned more and more sexual.  It was
hard to coax my eager body towards sleep, but with absolutely nothing else
to do, I eventually did sleep.

The next morning I felt weaker than usual.  A dim pulsing in my head felt
kinda like a hangover.  I knew what my body needed, but there's wasn't a
way for me to get it.

Finally, the truck made its final stop.  Julie, long recovered from her car
sickness, opened the door of the cell after the truck had stopped.  "We're
here!" she said.  "Welcome to Denver, folks!"  She sniffed the air in the
cell and wrinkled her nose.  "I'm to blame for that smell, aren't I?  I am
so, sooo sorry bout that."

"Denver?" I said, my heart sinking.  No way in fuck Sam would ever think to
look for me in Denver.  "Why Denver?"

"Our base in Denver is a little bit unique," West said.  "Come on, the
professor will tell you about it."

When I left the truck, my bag in hand, I realized we were in what looked
like a vast underground parking garage.  Most of the many visible parking
spots were empty.  Before the truck had stopped, we had gone downwards on a
ramp for some time.  Now, I could see that ramp leading up, out of sight.
I wondered how far underground this place was.

Standing in silent guard along the edges of the upwards ramp were armed,
uniformed soldiers.  I could count at least twenty from where I stood.

The red Corolla was being unloaded by its dreary eyed passengers.  The
professor came over to me, raising his puffy white eyebrows.  "How was the
trip?" he asked.

I wanted to tell him that it sucked ass, that it was totally fucked up to
force someone to travel so far.  But the name of the game here was
discretion.  "Fine," I said simply.  "Where are we?"

"Outside of Denver," the professor said.  "This is one of our few
underground bases, built for security.  It was your predecessor's chosen
American home.  We built this base with his interests in mind.  When he
died, we shut this base down.  Not just out of respect for him, but because
we had no practical need for it and it was too much a drain on our
resources."

"Since a couple of days ago," West said, "this base has been reopened.
This will be all of our permanent residence for a time."

"It's the most secure stronghold we have for you," the professor said.
"Only those of us with high security clearance even know of its existence.
It's almost totally impregnable and completely hidden.  Deep enough under
the ground that no wolf could ever smell you, and no angel could ever sense
you.  This base is the one place where you are totally safe."

I forced a smile.  "Great," I said, though really I felt like bolting up
the ramp towards fresh air.  It seemed clear that Sam would never find me
here.  Unless I could somehow contact him.  Call him, perhaps.

The six of us, luggage in tow, made for a glass door flanked by two armed
guards.  The soldiers nodded at us as we went through.

The Denver base's interior looked similar enough to the one in LA, only in
here there were obviously no windows, and instead of the dim lighting and
grey steel of the LA base, this one looked more like a hospital, all white
walls and bright florescent light.

The entryway we had stepped into was filled with men, all of them uniformed
and armed, except for two standouts in suits.  These two approached us as
soon as we came in.  One was white, one was black, but both were
good-looking, well built men in their late 30's.

"Professor Danielovitch," the black and larger one said, coming up and
confidently shaking the professor's feeble hand.  "Welcome to Denver."

"You would be Agent Maxwell?" asked the professor, struggling to hold up
his luggage.

"No, that would be I," said the white suited man in a thick, rough English
accent.  "Garret Maxwell."  He looked around and gave a cocky sort of wave,
apparently not caring enough to actually shake hands with anyone.  Maxwell
had sharp features and bleached blonde, spiky hair.

"Then you would be..." the professor said, looking at the black guy again.

"Agent White," he said, smiling.  "Jamal White."  I laughed to myself.  I
always thought "White" was an ironic name for a black guy.

"Ah yes, White," professor said.  "You were the one who I spoke to on the
phone."

"That's right," White said.  He looked briefly at the rest of us.  "And
let's see.  I know Agent West already."

"Hello, Jamal," West said.

He smiled at her.  "As for the rest of you?"

The professor briefly introduced the rest of us, ending with me.

After the professor told the two new agents who I was, White looked at me
and smiled.  "Ah, the big man on campus.  I've been looking forward to
meeting you."  I wasn't sure if he was being genuine or not, but I smiled
back at him.

White was a large, bulky man, with the physique of a pro-wrestler.  His
head was shaved close, very simply, and he sported a well-trimmed goatee.
His features were blandly handsome; he looked both tough and jovial.  What
stood out most was his thick, muscular neck, which somehow seemed as big as
his head and could barely fit through the collar of his shirt.

"Agents White and Maxwell will round out our team," the professor told me.
Finally, I thought.  Some real men put on the team instead of just chicks
and pansies.

"Shall we show you around?" White asked, and then turned around, not
waiting for an answer before starting his tour.  "As you know, this
facility has been shut down for over a year.  We're just starting to get
things online.  Got the electricity back on just two days ago."

"Water is on, I presume?" asked the professor.

"It is, as is gas."

"And the phones," said the other man, Agent Maxwell.

"That's right, and internal calls are a cinch.  But the base operators have
to approve, monitor, and record every single outgoing call."

"So unless you have no shame," Maxwell said, "it's best to save those
lovey-dovey calls to the missus for a cell phone call.  And what's really a
bummer is that cell reception down here is complete rubbish.  Hell, it's
non-existent."

"So if you need to make a cell call, I suggest you leave the base," White
said.

I almost cursed out loud.  How was I supposed to get a hold of Sam if I
couldn't make any calls?  "Am I allowed to leave this base?" I asked.

White laughed at me.  "Could you beat me in a fight, boy?" he asked,
hitting his chest once with his fist.

"Maybe," I said, but of course I knew that I could not.  That guy was huge,
and I was certain, well trained.  He and his buddy were the first two Bride
Agents I had met that seemed actually capable and threatening.

"Well, you're welcome to try, anytime.  Until you can beat me, you're not
leaving this base.  And in case you're the disobedient type, the soldiers
know not to let you out."

West gestured at all of the armed soldiers we were passing in the halls.
"How many do we have here now?"

"By tomorrow we'll have sixty-five men," White said.

"In case you don't know the numbers boys and girls, that makes us the
number one most fortified Bridge base in the country," said Maxwell,
gloating.  "Nobody's busting their way through here."

"All of the soldiers occupy the top two levels of this base, as do our
twenty-five staff members," White said.  "The rest of the base, nine
floors, is completely empty.  That's where we are living."  We had come to
an elevator and stairwell, and White motioned for us to get in the
elevator.  "This is the south elevator.  The north elevator is on the
opposite side of the base."  He pointed towards the button pad.  "There are
11 floors in this base, all going down from here.  We currently are on B1.
The kitchens, cafeteria, and laundry rooms are all up here."  He pointed
down to the next floor.  "B2 is the staff and soldier living quarters, most
of which is in use.  The next two floors down are more living quarters.
Those floors aren't currently in use."

"You'll see when you start exploring," Maxwell said.  "Most of this
building hasn't even been cleaned yet.  The lights aren't turned on where
we don't need them.  Feels like a goddamn ghost town in here."

White was still pointing at the floors.  "B5 is where all the Agent's
offices and conference rooms are.  B6 is where the computer bay is."

"Are the computers working?" asked Myers.

"Should be," White said.  "You're the only CTO we've had here, so you'll
have to check to make sure."  He pointed to the next floor down.  "B7 is
Medical," he said.  "Doctor, you are the only medical personnel in this
base at this time.  We already have some sort of flu going through some of
the soldiers.  We'll keep you busy here."

"I'll do whatever I can," the doctor said, swiping her pretty black hair
away from her face.

White looked towards Julie.  "Medina, you'll be working here on B8.  That
used to be R & D."

"And I'm the only one on that level?" asked Julie.

"That's right.  Mostly the whole floor is dark and covered in plastic."

"Oh!  Great.  My perfect working conditions."

"This base was meant to house a thousand people," White said.  "In a few
weeks, more people will come.  It will start to feel more like a normal
base."  He pointed back to the floor directory.  "All that's currently in
use on B9 is the gym.  And the eight of us are sharing an apartment for now
on B10, until multiple apartments can be services and cleaned."  White
pushed the button for B10, and the elevator started moving down.

"What's on the bottom level?" asked West.

"Not in use," White said.  "It was The Red's old personal quarters."

"Nothing's been touched in there since he died," Maxwell said.  "Have you
ever seen one of The Red's living quarters?  Guy was a bloody eccentric.
There was a reason why he called himself The Red.  His apartments have so
much red paint on the walls you'd think someone was murdered in there.
That with the psychotic decorating choices, and his quarters look like
something Francis Bacon would think up."

"The Red was a little odd," West admitted.

"More than a little bit, hun," Maxwell said.  "He was so loony that he left
clear instructions that no one was ever to disturb any of his apartments
again.  You know what he wanted us to do with them?  Burn them.  Entire
floors of bases, burned and sealed off.  Crazy loon.  We never did what he
asked.  But still, the staff is afraid to go on that floor entirely.  Some
think he haunts that floor.  Say they hear voices coming from it."

Julie's eyes were wide, and she let out a little gasp.  "Thank God I'm not
working by myself on that floor.  One random noise and I'd pee my pants."

"Nothing has been changed in there since the moment he died," Maxwell said,
looking intensely at Julie and lowering his voice to a Vincent Price range.
He clearly liked having a scared audience.  "Not a paper moved.  It's
downright spooky, if you're asking my opinion."

"I didn't hear nobody ask your opinion," White said, leaving his
professional demeanor behind to prod his friend.

"Well, I don't care, I'm giving it to them, aren't I?"

The elevator dinged and the door opened.  "This way to our apartment,"
White said as all of us left the elevator.

"Sure is dark down here," Medina said, looking around with her wide eyes.

It was dark.  Three different hallways led off from the elevator, but only
one of those hallways were lit, the others completely disappeared into
darkness.  The lights that were there were low wattage ceiling lights,
separated by a good ten feet.

"Does anyone else feel like we're lost in a cave?" Myers asked.

"Well, we are underground," West said.

"It's not easy to get lost around here," White said.  "This floor is huge,
but only the lights that we need are working.  So, instead of wondering how
to get from here to our apartment, all you have to do is follow the
lights."

We did just that, following along the only lit up path, making a turn or
two before coming to a locked door, which White opened.

The apartment inside was fully illuminated, clean and comfortable.  We
stood in a combined dining room, sitting room, and kitchen.  It was small
but totally fine.

"Reminds me of my college dorm," West said.  "Only way, way cleaner."

"There's two suites," White said, pointing to two doors on opposite walls.
"One on the East, and one on the West."  He led us into the West door.
"Each suite has four bedrooms and one shared bathroom."

"It's looking more and more like college," West said.

The suite was arranged around a TV room.  "TV's work with basic cable,"
White said.  He opened a bedroom door.  "The beds are just singles but the
closets are big."  He closed the bedroom door and opened up the bathroom
door.  "The bathroom is meant to be shared.  The showers are open."

"So that means there's a boy's suite and there's a girls suite," Julie
said.

Maxwell nodded.  "Well, Jamal and I already have our stuff in the other
suite, so..."

"This one must be for us girls," West said.  "Only there's three of us and
five of you."

"Right," Maxwell said.  "We already thought of that.  See, one of you new
guys will have to bunk in here, with the ladies.  Not necessarily a bad
cut, if you think about it."

Myers and I looked back and forth at each other, challenging.

"I'm not bunking with the girls, no way," I said.  "I'm all man, bro."

"Well, I don't want to either."

"I'll do it!" the professor said, exasperated.  "I really don't care."  He
pulled his suitcase towards a bedroom.

"Way to show them who's the biggest man of all," West told him.

"We promise not to walk in on you when you're showering, Professor," the
doctor said.

White and Maxwell showed us to the men's suite.  Some of their things had
already been put around our TV room, and the bathroom was stocked with
their toiletries.

"I'm glad you two lads are rooming with us instead of the professor over
there," Maxwell said.  "I wasn't too keen on the idea of having a dullard
of an authority figure shacking up with me.  So, two bedrooms are open.
One is between me and Jamal's rooms, over there.  And the other is next to
the bathroom."

"I call the one next to the bathroom!" yelled Myers before I could even
think.

"Ho ho!" White said, coming up behind me and hitting me hard on the back.
"Looks like you'll be taking the bitch room, Gifted Boy.  I wouldn't want
to share a wall with Garret over there."

"Why the fuck not, cuntoid?"

"Let's just say you have a really big pair of-"

"Big pair of bollocks right here, mate," Maxwell said, grabbing his crotch.

"A big pair of speakers that you like to play a certain has-been brit
rocker on late at night."  White took a breath.  "NOT a big pair of
cajones."

"What the fuck do you know about my cojones, gent?"

"I seen em in the shower, man."

"Why the buggery bollocks are you looking at another bloke's cock in the
shower, mate?  You window-shopping?  See something you like?  You giving up
on drinking from the furry cup, Jamal?  Prefer instead to have my extra
large cock rammed up yer jacksey?"

White let out a throaty laugh.  "Extra large, that's hilarious.  You white
boys always had a fucking skewed perception of cock size cause all you know
is little white boy cock.  You pop a boner bigger than six inches and you
shit yourself and brag that you got an extra large member."  He grabbed his
own crotch.  "Wait till you see full-sized black cock."

This conversation was having a sexual effect on me.  I got a semi in my
jeans, and looked back and forth between the mounds in White's and
Maxwell's trousers, trying to decide who sported the bigger dick.

"I already seen one," Maxwell said.  "Yours.  In the bloody shower."

"Ah, what were you doing checking out another guy's dick, Garret?" Maxwell
countered.  "Wondering what yours might look like when you're all grown
up?"

"Listen you cunt, the point is, your cock wasn't any bigger than mine.
Just a few shades darker.  And I don't ever remember you taking a cold
shower."

I almost wanted to ask both the guys to strip down and settle this score
once and for all, but the conversation abruptly came to and end.

The door from the main apartment opened and Julie stepped in, smiling.
"Did anyone else notice it was snowing when we drove in?" she asked
excitedly.  Nobody said anything.  "Well, it is.  I was gonna go up and
play in the snow some, while the sun's still up.  Anyone wanna come?"  She
looked excitedly around the room.  None of us said a word.  "I promise
you'll get a good snowball fight out of the deal," she said.  Still no
response.  "Alright, I understand.  Going up against me is a pretty
intimidating prospect.  Well, if you boys change your minds, you know where
to find me."  She smiled, waved, and retreated.

The dick-size conversation didn't resume, unfortunately.  Myers was in his
room unpacking, so I did the same in mine, stopping periodically to rub my
aching head and curse the knotted pain of emptiness in my stomach.

Nine days, Sam had said, until the attack was made.  Nine days I had to
survive without his cum.

It was day two and I already felt like shit.  I oscillated between sick and
horny; there wasn't another state of mind for me to be in.

Could I do this for seven more days?  I prayed to God for strength.

*****

In the evening, a dull quiet settled over the apartment.  The professor had
told me that there would be no lessons that day, that our first day should
be a settling in day.  He spent most of the day up on L5 setting up his new
office.

Myers, Medina, and Dr. Nguyen all kept themselves quite busy working in
there own departments.  Which meant it was just me and the three tactical
agents to occupy the apartment.

I spent much of the afternoon lying alone in my room with the fly of my
jeans open and my hand on my dick.  My eyes were shut and I was thinking
about Sam.  His beautiful face that I missed so much.  His unbelievable
body that was mine to touch and lick as I pleased.  And most of all, his
dick.  God, how I needed his dick right now.

It wasn't until White called me to dinner that I put my dick away and got
up.

Two older women brought down our food to our apartment.  "Can't we go up
and eat with the soldiers?" I asked as I eyed a slice of pizza.

"Nah," said White.  "They aren't allowed to communicate with us.  They've
been ordered to stay silent around us."

"What?  What the hell for?" I asked.

"Part of it is tradition.  A sort of Queen's Guard thing.  But really, it's
because the Bridge doesn't trust the soldiers as much as it does the rest
of its staff.  The soldiers have been trained like the rest of us to
psychically conceal their thoughts.  But they're just not as intelligent as
most of us.  So, even common information is often withheld from them, on
the basis that whatever they know could be a potential threat.  That's why
any communication between us and them is forbidden."

"So what would happen if I went up and tried to talk with one of em?" I
asked.

"He wouldn't respond," White said.  "Cause if he did, he'd know there'd be
a chance he'd get fired."

"Fucking weird," I said.  "I guess my social life will be entirely
contained within this apartment."

White laughed.  "Brother, that's how it is for all of us.  That's why I
thank the Lord that the rest of you got here today.  Before now it's just
been me and that Billy Idol wannabe, punk ass Maxwell."

"Hey, I heard that, you cockles spunk bubble," Maxwell yelled from the
other side of the room.

"I know you did, motherfucker.  It ain't no secret."

"Well, I'm no Billy Idol wannabe, alright?  I'm my own fucking man, that's
what I am."

White laughed.  "Look at you!  Badly bleached hair, a cheap black leather
jacket, no shirt on underneath.  His pathetic trademark sneer that he stole
from Elvis in the first place.  You've got the whole package, brother!"

Maxwell sneered and pointed at White.  "Alright, now you listen here.  You
can insult me, but don't you dare insult Billy."

I carried my pizza out of the main room, my headache much too painful to
stay and listen to their arguing, and I went into the girls' suite.  Nobody
was in there except for West, who was in her room with her door open.  I
knocked on the door and opened it all the way.

She was sitting on her bed with her bedroom phone to her ear.  She smiled
at me and waved me in.

"Dinners in the kitchen," I said.

She gave me the thumbs up.  "Hi honey!" she said through the phone.  "Yes,
I've moved.  No, still can't tell you where I am.  Look, hun, the
operator's listening to this call and it's being recorded, so don't say
anything embarrassing, you know?"  She put her hand to her belly.
Obviously she was trying to tell her husband not to talk about the baby.
"As soon as things get settled here, I'll come for a visit, how does that
sound?"

I left her alone, not wanting to invade her privacy.

When I left the girl suite, only Maxwell was sitting at the table eating;
White had left the room.  I took a moment to look the guy over.  White was
right, his casual clothes made him look just like Billy Idol.  Fuck, the
guy even wore black mascara.  At his age, the 80's punk get-up was
downright pathetic.

Still, the guy was pretty hot.  Not angel hot, no way the guy was even
close to the ugliest angel.  But in human standards, the guy looked good.

I sat down across from him, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box.  I
watched Maxwell eat as I ate.  He looked up at me, inquisitively.  I held
my stare.

Then I had to remind myself that I was far away from the angel world where
everyone was gay.  Flirting with another dude would not be tolerated, as
much as my dick urged otherwise.

I looked away from him.  "So, they have pizza over in the UK?" I asked,
desperate to break the silence but not thinking about what a stupid fucking
question that was.

He nodded at me like I was an idiot.  "Yeah mate.  We're not complete
fucking spazes, ya know?"

"Yeah, cool."  My eyes went down to his chest, where underneath his open
black leather jacket there was bare, white-tan skin.  I could see he was
decently built.  I wanted to see more.

I looked up to see him looking at me.  He had seen me look down at his
body.  I had to play it off.  "That's a pretty fly jacket ya got there,
bud," I said.

He smiled.  "Ya think so?"  He was easily flattered.

"Yeah, it fucking rocks, man.  I love it."  An idea occurred to me.  "Can I
try it on, bro?  I'm about your size."

"Right now?" he asked.

"Sure."

He shrugged and took off the jacket.  I didn't give a shit about trying on
the crappy jacket.  I just wanted to see the dude completely shirtless.  I
stared at his little red nipples on his hairless pecs.  God, I wanted to
tweak them with my tongue.  Fuck, what I wouldn't give to see him
completely nude.  See his swinging cock.

Course, I would never act on those desires.  I was loyal to Sam.  I had
sworn to Sam.  If I broke my vows, I'd be killed for it.

But I was just looking.  It was like the horny guy at the office who would
sneak peaks at the porn on his computer even though he knew he couldn't
jerk off.  It was ultimately frustrating, but it was almost out of my
control.

I tried on the jacket.  "How does it look?" I asked him.

"Pretty damn ace," he said with a sexy sneer.

*****

I went to bed early that night.  The headache and the pain in my stomach
were worsening, and the only thing that seemed to stop them was sleep.

Muffled music woke me up sometime past midnight.  Rock came through the
wall I shared with Maxwell.  "Fucking asshole," I complained to myself.
Once I was awake, I couldn't get back to sleep.  My dick was like iron and
I couldn't get the picture of Sam's beautiful dick out of my head.

I was too horny not to jerk off.  So, listening to the muffled music
through the wall, I went ahead and did it, fast as I could.  I came all
over my hand.

God, how I wanted cum so badly.  I brought my hand to my mouth and sucked
down all of my load, hoping that might make me feel better.

I didn't.  It wasn't my own cum I was longing for, it was another man's.
As soon as I came, I was already fucking horny again.

Luckily, I was also in pain and feeling weak.  I let my sickness take over,
and my body fell asleep.

*****

There was pounding on my door.  "Wheeler, wake up."  It was White.  "We
have lessons in an hour."

The morning could not have been more unwelcome.  I moaned, my hand going up
to my throbbing head.  Fuck, it was so fucking bad.  And the pain in my
stomach, it was like I hadn't eaten for weeks.  I felt like my stomach was
starting to consume my other nearby organs.  Fuck, I couldn't live like
this.

I got out of bed, feeling downright wobbly.  I looked at myself in the
mirror.  Sweaty and fucking pale.  Red eyes.  I looked like shit.

After I had thrown on clothes, I left my room, went into the bathroom.
Maxwell and White were both at the sinks, talking to each other.

"I swear to God, if I hear "Flesh And Fantasy" coming out of your
motherfucking room at motherfucking two o'clock in the fucking morning ever
again," White yelled, "I'm gonna come in there stick my big boot into both
of your motherfucking speakers, got it?"

I left the bathroom and went into the main apartment.  Someone had
delivered breakfast things: fruit, baked goods, cereal.  I felt like I
could eat the whole fucking assortment.  I grabbed the first donut I came
to and crammed in down my throat.

Suddenly I felt sick to my stomach.  I backed away from the kitchen,
knowing my problem was obvious.  I was hungry not because I needed food,
but because I needed cum.  Desperately.

My head throbbed again, and I keeled over from the pain, fighting back
tears.  When the wave subsided, I walked into the girls' suite.  I needed
the doctor now.

The doc wasn't answering her door when I knocked, but the door was slightly
open.  I pushed myself in.  Empty.

I walked over to her bed and plopped myself down, looking around at the
pictures of her family that she had propped up around the room.

A few minutes later, Dr. Nguyen came in.  Her smooth skin was dripping wet;
she just had a single white towel wrapped around her body.  Her wet black
hair cluck to her neck; dripped water on her exposed cleavage.

She was only slightly startled to find me on her bed, but certainly not
happy to see me.  "Mr. Wheeler, you can't be this desperate."

I looked up and down her body.  "I didn't come for that, Doc," I said.  "I
came to ask you if you could give me something for a killer headache."

Her demeanor softened only slightly.  "These are not my normal visiting
hours, Mr. Wheeler.  Perhaps you could find some time to see me in Medical
like every sane person in this base."

"Ah, please doc?  I'm in a lot of pain right now.  Just a couple aspirin or
something?"

She sighed.  "Fine," she said.  She quickly fished a couple a pills out of
her drawer.  "Take these.  No need to call me in the morning.  Good day,
Mr. Wheeler."

"Thanks!" I said as I walked towards the door.  "Aren't you glad I made it
through a whole conversation with you in just a towel and I didn't once
flirt with you?"

"Immensely so," she said as she shut the door.

As I took the medication, something occurred to me.  It wasn't newfound
restraint that had kept me from hitting on the doctor.  I just wasn't
interested.  Not the least bit interested in a smoking hot, wet, naked
woman standing three feet from me.  What the fuck was wrong with me?  I was
still sexually attracted to men.  Couldn't fucking stop thinking about men,
really.  But when it came to the softer sex, not the tiniest bit of
interest.

I had turned into a complete fag.

*****

Lessons that day were much like they had been in LA, only now the lecturers
had doubled in number as Maxwell and White added their points of view to
the mix.  They brought me up to L5, a floor that, like the floor we lived
on, was almost entirely dark and unused.  A couple conference rooms of
varying size and Danielovitch's office were the only rooms in use.

Like in LA, as they taught me things, I only pretended to listen.  My mind
was instead permanently wrapped around the dire predicament I was in.

Today was the third day since I had uploaded the virus.  Six more days
until this base would be under attack.  Six more days.  Could I get through
six more days?

My headache roared on, showing no sign of lessening from the medicine I had
taken in the morning.  My stomach ached painfully.  I was getting weaker by
the moment.

No, I decided.  I could most definitely not survive six more days.

Fucking hell.  I was going to die here.  It was inevitable.  There was no
solution, no way around it.  I needed Sam's cum to survive, and there was
no way to get that sooner than six days from now.  Shit.

But maybe... maybe there was a way to keep myself alive.  I craved cum so
badly, but I already knew that my own cum did nothing for me.  I didn't yet
know about whether another man's cum would help me.

I considered that thought, coming to the conclusion that another man's cum
probably would satiate my needs.  It was a simple matter of logic.  When I
was cum-starved, my libido naturally directed my attractions towards the
source of what my body needed to survive.  Before, that had always meant an
intense attraction to Sam.  But now that Sam was not here, my libido was
sending me a clear signal by making me beyond horny for two of my
suite-mates.  Telling me that I should go for them.  That any man's cum
will help my body out.

And that's why I stopped being attracted to the doctor.  A woman's body
could do nothing for me, and as my body became more and more in need, it
blocked my attraction to women so that I would not pursue what would be a
useless activity.

If I could swallow a man's cum in the next six days, I could probably
survive this shit.  If not, I would certainly die.  It was that simple.

No it wasn't, I reminded myself.  My vows.  I had sworn myself solely to
Sam.  Sucking another guy off would definitely be against my vows.

But to follow my vows was to choose death.

Fuck.  This was the exact kind of thing that Faith had warned me about.  In
a choice between following your vows and surviving, you choose to follow
your vows.  The honorable path.  That's what a Delector did.  They would
choose to die.

But I couldn't do it.  I couldn't choose to let myself slip into a painful
death when it was so clear to me how I could survive.  I had to do what I
had to do.  When Sam came along six days from now, I would just tell him
the truth.  That my back was against the wall.

The angels would probably kill me for it.  But I would argue my case
beforehand.  I would probably lose, but I still had a chance.

Otherwise, I'd die here for certain.

It was a choice between a certain death now, or a likely death later.

I chose the latter.

So starting then, I had a new goal in this place.  To find some guy who
would let me suck him off.  A free BJ from a good-looking guy, not such a
bad punishment.

My first thought was to go up to the soldiers' quarters and make some
friends.  Feel out who might have those inclinations.

But White had told me that the soldiers weren't allowed to socialize with
us, didn't he?  That would make it impossible for me to hook-up with any of
them.

The staff here were mostly female.  The only dudes were old.  That was a
dead end.

My only options were living with me in my apartment.  There was no way I'd
ever suck off the professor, he was old and gross.  I'd die a long,
excruciating death before I ever lay a hand on the fat slob Myers, that was
for damn sure.

Which meant that my only two options were standing right in front of me.
White and Maxwell.  Both of them were reasonably hot.  I just had to figure
out which one of them was more likely to swing that way.  Once I knew, I
would work my magic.  Easy as can be.

*****

Later that evening, after the lessons had thankfully ended, after everyone
was back in our apartment, I decided it was time for a little
reconnaissance work.

I knocked on White's door.  He opened it and looked at me.  "Yeah, what do
you need, Wheeler?" he asked directly.

I shrugged.  "I don't need anything.  Just wanted to talk.  Man to man."

He looked at me for a moment before opening his door wide and motioning me
inside.  "Come on in," he said.  "What's up?" he asked when I had walked
in.

"I don't know," I said.  "I just figured you and I could be working
together for a long time."

"I hope so," he said, but I could tell by his tone it wasn't working with
me personally that he was hoping for.  He wanted to keep his valuable
position by being in the Gifted's team.

"And you seem to know all about me," I said.

"It's all in your file."

"While I know jack shit about you.  Doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"Okay," he said.  "What do you want to know?  I was a football player in my
youth.  Went to Virginia Tech on a scholarship."

"What position did you play?" I asked.

"QB."

"No shit?"

"No fucking shit."  He struck a passing pose.

"You look too big for a QB," I said.

"That's what made me so good.  Hard to take down.  Anyways brother, I was
drafted into the Jets when I graduated."

"Holy shit!" I said.  "You were a pro player?"

"Sure was."

"Damn dude!  Sorry I never heard of you before, but honestly I'm not much
of a football watcher."

"It's cool," he said.  "Most people never heard of me.  I was a third
string QB who played for two years before I fucked up my knee in training
camp.  Just like that, my career was over."

"Shit man," I said.  "What did you do?"

"I was a natural leader and had majored in Criminal Justice.  I applied for
the FBI and they accepted me.  A few years later, I was secretly contacted
by the Bridge.  They wanted me to join up, and I accepted.  That brings us
to the present."

After I had left his room later on, I thought about everything that I had
learned.  White had been a pro ball player.  Pro ball players were always
straight, weren't they?

But then again, football was a really homoerotic sport.  All sorts of
man-to-man contact.  As a QB, White would have stuck his hands under some
guy's crotch almost every play.  And he was okay with all the
congratulatory butt-slapping, the naked locker room antics.  Even the
argument White had gotten into with Maxwell about dick-size had been pretty
damn gay.

Maybe White was one of those athletes who, although they were straight,
would say a BJ was a BJ no matter who was giving it.

As I thought that over, I heard rock music blaring from Maxwell's room
again.  After a few seconds I recognized the song.  Billy Idol's "Dancing
With Myself."  It seemed to mock me.

It was time to get some recon on my secondary target.  I knocked loudly on
his door.

"What do you want, you cunt wanker?" called Maxwell from inside.

"Just wanted to see what you were doing, bro," I said.

He opened the door a moment later and looked me up and down.  "Ah, blimey,
I thought you was Jamal over there.  Come in, mate, come in."

He let me in and shut the door behind me.  I looked around his room.  He
had more stuff than I did, but there was no sign that he was treating this
like a permanent residence.  The walls remained blank.

I noticed he had a TV and VCR combo on his dresser.

"Holy shit, how'd you get your own TV?" I asked.

"I brought it with me, that's how."

"Oh."

I looked over at him.  His outfit seriously looked like he had swiped it
from Billy Idol.  Shredded tight jeans and a black leather jacket.

"Is it true that you're obsessed with Billy Idol?" I asked him.

"Not obsessed, no," he said.  "A lot of Brit lads used to tell me that I
had a passing resemblance to the guy.  I happened to be one helluva fan,
so, you know.  I did the hair.  Got the clothes.  Even wear black eyeliner
when I'm not on duty, see?"  He pointed to his eye.

I laughed.  "Man, you ARE obsessed."

"Nah.  Sure, I wanted to be just like him when I was a lad.  I knew I had
the looks.  I worked to get the body.  Bloody hell, I had the attitude.
But you know what kept me from being a rock star?"

"What?"

"I didn't fucking know how to sing.  So, I decided to be a cool,
gun-toting, werewolf killing bloke instead."  He gestured towards me.
"Fag?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, briefly feeling dangerously exposed.

"You wanna fag?" He grabbed a cigarette box and pulled one out, sticking it
in his loose lips.

"Oh, no thanks man," I said.

He lit up.  As the first puffs of smoke hit the air, I took a deep breath.
It reminded me so much of Sam.  My dick started to pulse in my pants.

I looked around his room, finding a large box full of cassette tapes.  But
as I looked at the tapes, I realized that these weren't the classics.  It
was all porn.

"Holy shit," I said.

"Yup," he said.  "You found it.  My Happy Box.  It isn't home without it."

I looked through the titles, disheartened that all of them were straight
porn with naked chicks on the covers.  But as I kept on looking, a hopeful
thought occurred to me.  All of these porn tapes had guys prominently
featured in them as well.  None of it was solo chick stuff.  All of it was
hardcore fucking.  Some of them were even gang-bang tapes; one chick
getting nailed by as many as a dozen different guys at once.  Maybe he had
a thing for all that cock?

I moved past the box of porn and headed for the door.  "Alright bro, take
it easy," I said.

"Cool mate," he said.  "Come back anytime you feel like."

Later on, when I went to bed that night, I weighed my two potential targets
carefully.  Both seemed straight on the surface, but which one was more
likely to have a gay streak?

I couldn't decide.  I figured I'd play it by ear.

*****

On the morning of day four, my normal lessons ended early so that I could
have a private session with Agent Maxwell.

"I'm going to teach you how to project a psychic shield," he said as he led
me through the ghostly corridors of L5.  We were the only ones currently on
the floor.

"Can you project a psychic shield yourself?" I questioned.

"Nah, mate," he said.  "Only you and the angels can do that."

"So, what makes you think you can teach me how?" I asked.

"I have an expertise in Psi-ops," he said.  "It's what I studied in the
agency.  Just trust me, I'll get you there."

As we walked, I looked down at my hands.  Since this morning they had been
shaking slightly.  If I concentrated hard, I could steady them.  Mostly I
just kept them in my pockets so as not to draw attention to myself.  I
absolutely could not let on that I was sick.  If they found out, a careful
medical examination could reveal that I was a Delector.

So, I drove my hands back in my pockets, where Maxwell wouldn't see them.
Besides the shaking, I felt a whole lot weaker than yesterday.  I found it
hard to keep my balance even now as I walked.  And the pain in my head and
stomach had spread throughout my body.  I was one big walking ache.

The sooner I could get a cum fix them better.

Maxwell looked into a room and turned on the lights.  "Oh, lovely, here we
are."

The room he led me into was more than just a conference room.  A hospital
bed had been rolled in here, and beside it was a plugged in machine that
looked strangely like...

"That's not an electroshock machine, is it?" I asked.

"Well, not exactly, no," he said.  "It only emits electric pulses that are
a small portion of what you'd get if you were undergoing proper
electroshock.  Now, lie down here."

I backed away.  "No fucking way," I said.  "I'm not just gonna lie down and
let you shock me!"

"Relax, mate.  I've done this myself, just for fun.  It's no big pain.  A
child could do it.  And `sides, if you refuse to do this I'll get blamed.
I'll get a bollocking from the professor."

I sighed.  "Fine," I said.  "But I'm doing this just for you, you hear me?"
I got onto the hospital bed.

"Well, that's just lovely of you," he said sarcastically.  He turned on the
machine and started to get things ready.  "This is a rather simple
technique.  Not the only way to teach you how to engage your psychic
shield, but the fastest way.  At the moment, any angel could intrude into
your mind.  Read your thoughts, divine that you are Gifted, figure out how
strong you are, and peruse your history.  That is what the shielding will
prevent.  When your shield is up, the choice will be up to you.  You can
protect your whole psyche from intrusion at all times, or you can choose to
share specific details.  Certain thoughts, perhaps.  The angels communicate
with each other telepathically, and you could do the same with them if you
had a reason to."

"And once the shield is up," I asked.  "I can still turn it off again,
right?"

"Right.  You should be able to turn it off and on at will.  Oh, and even
with the shield up, we've found that the angels can detect your presence
and that you are Gifted, but only if they are within a few yards of you,
and that's all the information they can get from you.  Okay, ready to crack
on with this?"

I nodded.

"I'm going to attach some electrical nodules to your head.  Just relax."

I shut my eyes, getting ready to brace myself for whatever pain I was about
to go through.  I did not like the idea of being shocked.  When I was a
curious five year old I had once unscrewed a lamp bulb, turned it on, and
stuck my wet finger inside.  After that point, I had no further curiosity
about electricity.

"Okay, now when I say, I'll turn this on and you will feel a mild
discomfort.  Are you ready?"

I nodded, clenching down.

"Cheers."

The electricity came in, and I cringed.  It was a steady stream of painful
unease.  I absolutely did not like it, and wanted it to end.

"Now listen to me Wheeler," Maxwell said.  "If you do exactly what I tell
you to do, you can stop the pain."

"How?" I asked eagerly.

"Keep your eyes shut, and envision you looking down at yourself from
outside your body.  Are you doing it?"

"Yeah."

"Good."  He took a deep breath and lowered his tone of voice.  "Picture
your head lying down on the bed.  Concentrate on the electrical pulse.
Feel it running over every part of your brain.  The top, the frontal lobe,
right above your spine, deep in the middle."

"Okay," I said.  "It fucking hurts."

"Picture a transparent sphere forming around your head.  You can see it,
but you can also see through it.  Are you picturing it?"

"Yes, yes!  I'm picturing it!"

"Make it larger, expanding outwards from its center."

"Okay," I said.

"Now reverse it.  Make it smaller until it touches the skin on your head,
all around you."

"Okay."

"See that you can control this sphere, that it is entirely under your
power.  Do you see it?"

"Yes!" I yelled eagerly, still in pain.

"Now," he said with continued calmness, "in a moment you are going to
imagine that sphere solidify into steel.  As it changes, it becomes
indestructible.  And as it changes, all the pain in your head will be gone.
You will have total control of what is inside of the sphere, and nothing
can get through the sphere without your permission, okay?"

"Alright.  I'm picturing it."

"I'm going to count to five.  When I get to five, the sphere will have
fully transformed into steel, is this clear?"

"Yes," I said.

"One.... Two..."

And as he counted, I concentrated on what he said with all of my might.

"Three... Four..."

I pushed the pain out of my head, pushed out the discomfort, pushed out all
of it.  What remained was just a light refreshing tingle around the surface
of my brain.

"Five."  He paused.  "Did it work?"

"I think so," I said.  "Did you turn the machine off?"

"No, it's still on."

"Then yeah, it worked."  I opened my eyes.

"Jesus H Christ, you did it!" he said, jumping up excitedly and turning off
the machine.  "Let me get these buggers off of you."  He pulled off the
nodules.  "How do you feel?"

I rubbed my head.  "I still feel, mmm, tingly."

"That mean's the shield's working," he said.  "Anytime you want to turn it
off or allow something though, you have to consciously visualize it.
Otherwise, the shield will just stay on.  I don't believe how easy it was."

I got up off the hospital bed.  "Ha!  You weren't the one being fucking
electrocuted."

He laughed good-naturedly.  "I didn't know if it would work, honestly.  I
mean, it's not as if I ever had to teach that technique before.  The whole
approach was a bit dodgy.  But it worked!  I am just so fucking good at
what I do!  What a smug twat I'm gonna be after this one!"

"Yeah, congrats man," I said dryly.

"And you!" he gushed.  "You were fucking amazing!  Unbelievable!"  He
grabbed my head, pulled me towards him and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.
"I love you right now!" he went on, jumping onto the side of me until he
was straddling my hip.  "I love you so much I could fuck you!"

And he playfully bucked his hips and thrust his crotch against my side
while he hugged me, and although I knew it was all just in jest, it made me
fucking turned on.  I reminded me of the way Sam would hold me, comfort me,
encourage me, support me...

With another kiss Maxwell pulled off me and pointed.  "You, my lad, have
yourself a bloody big deal of a reward.  The rest of the day off.  Lessons
again tomorrow morning.  Go and relax.  You deserve it, mate."

*****

I spent the afternoon lying in my bed, drenching the sheets with sweat and
throbbing with pain.  My head may have felt better after I had done the
whole shielding thing, but my body was in constant torment.

In even more unrest than my body was my throbbing dick, which I was rolling
around with my right hand.  I knew jacking off was a futile solution and a
waste of energy.  What I needed, what I longed for so badly, was dick.  Was
cum.

I couldn't think of anything else, and I was beginning to feel like I was
ready to do anything for it.  After this morning's session, being in close
proximity to Maxwell, having him jump on my body, hump me, kiss and hug me;
now he wasn't leaving my mind.  Honestly, I'd say I was beyond obsessed.
It was the strongest, most powerful crush I had ever felt.

I wiped the tears from my eyes, ashamed that I was actually crying from the
power of the desire I was feeling.  I got up, put my dick back in my pants,
and went out into the suite.

Maxwell and White were off with West on some meeting.  The only one here at
the moment was the fat man Myers, and he was locked in his room with a big
bucket of fried chicken.  I figured he'd be in there for a while.

I knocked lightly on Maxwell's door just to make sure he hadn't come back.
When he didn't answer, I opened the door.

His room was empty and dark.  I turned on the light as I shut his door.

I walked around, not knowing my reason for being here exactly, just knowing
I had to come.  I traced my hand along his bed sheets as I walked past,
finally coming to his TV.

I turned it on and hit play.

One of his gang bang porn videos came on the screen.  A supple red-head
surrounded by six beefy, diverse men, all of them with huge cocks.  One of
the guys was holding the girl down and fucking her hard.  The other guys
were looking on, jacking their dicks in there hands.

I swore it must be the hottest porno I had ever seen.  It wasn't actually
the content of the porn, I knew.  It was just like any other porno.  It was
the fact that Maxwell watched this shit and loved it.  He probably jerked
of watching this.  He probably came right where I had had started the tape.
That's what was fucking hot to me.

And it gave me a damn good idea.

I went to his closet and found his laundry hamper.  I threw the lid off,
praying to God that there would be a fresh cum rag in here.  In other
words, a free hand out.

There wasn't anything like that.  But there was a pair of briefs that
excited me more than a little.  They were small, so I knew they must have
been tight fitting, and they had the UK flag printed on them.  Very sexy.

I searched along the inside fabric, and found what I had been dreaming
about.  A small, quarter-sized stain of caked-on, dried liquid.  A precum
spot.

I threw the briefs towards my face.  I stuck my tongue out and pressed it
against the stain, wetting it.

That wasn't enough.  I put the whole stain into my mouth, licking at it
with my whole tongue.  I let my spit soak into the hard stain, let it
moisten again, and scraped off the substance with my teeth.  I luxuriated
in the glob of precum in my mouth, swishing it around, trying to taste it.

But the precum really didn't taste like anything.  I swallowed it down, and
there wasn't anymore to be scraped away from these briefs.

It wasn't enough.  I didn't feel any better.  And no wonder, it was just
the tiniest bit of dried up cum.  I needed a fresh, huge load.

I threw the briefs down in anger, yelling to myself.  I turned off the gang
bang, removed any sign that I had been in that room, and left for my own
room.

All I could manage to do was to take a nap.

*****

The telephone in my room woke me up from my nap.  It was early evening.

"Hello?" I asked sleepily.

"Bradley, this is Zev.  Would you mind meeting me in my office on L5?  I
need to talk to you in private."

"No, professor," I said.  "I'll be right there."

I hung up and pulled myself together.  The idea of a meeting right now made
the pain in my body worsen and my stomach lurch.  But I had to make it seem
like I was totally healthy.

"Come in and sit down," the professor told me as I came into his office.
"Shut the door behind you."

He was sitting behind a large desk, and I was on the other side of it.  He
looked at me and smiled, something he hardly ever did.

"How are you doing, Bradley?" he asked me.

Uh-oh, did he suspect that I was sick?  "I'm great," I said, forcing my
eyes to open wide and smiling enthusiastically.  "I feel fantastic."

"I meant psychologically, Bradley," the professor said.  "How are you, you
know, adjusting?  You've gone through all these sudden and confusing
changes.  It would only be natural for you to feel... depressed."

Oh fuck no.  This guy was trying to counsel me.  The last thing I wanted
was to sit here and be shrinked by someone who had no fucking clue.  I
decided to play it off like I was happy.  "I'm not depressed," I said.
"I'm completely content in every way imaginable."

"Hmm," he said, raising one of his bushy white eyebrows.  "That's very
good.  But I know something about you that the others do not.  It's a piece
of information that only Leads are trusted with.  Because, although it
could be useful information, it's inherently intrusive."

"What is it that you know, professor?" I asked, starting to sweat.

"That you are homosexual or bisexual, one of the two."

My eyes went wide with surprise, and my first instinct was to deny it.  I
didn't like to be called gay, and I didn't like to admit my feelings out
loud.  But I realized that him knowing these secrets wasn't such a big deal
in the long run.

"It's okay Bradley," he said.  "All men with the Gift have had the same
inclinations since the birth of humanity."

"What about The Red?" I asked him, remembering the name of the man who had
lived on the bottom floor of this base.

"Not many people were privy to this, but yes, he too was bisexual.  Though
understandably, given societal norms at the time of his upbringing, he
chose not to act on that side of himself."  He cleared his throat, as if
that would ever clear the permanent piece of phlegm that seemed to be
lodged back there.  "I'm mentioning this not to make you feel
uncomfortable, but to let you know that I am totally understanding of any
special needs you may have due to this detail.  You see, I myself am gay."

He stared at me for a moment as if he had just let me know for the first
time that the world was round and expected a shocked response.  I feigned
surprise.  "Really?  I would have never guessed."

"It's true," he said.  "Although, when you work in defense, you tend to
find that it's best to be discrete about that fact whenever possible.  And
at my age, I have long given up on dating.  But I'm smart enough to know
that you must be wondering about how this transition will affect your love
life.  Most of the heterosexual Bridge members date within the agency, but
for gays this mostly isn't possible."  He scratched one of his bushy
eyebrows.  "As your Lead, let me assure you.  When you want to leave the
base for social reasons, I fully support you going out on your own."

My spirits suddenly lifted.  "You mean I can leave now?" I asked.  "I know
how to put up a psychic shield.  Got it up right now."

"Yes, Maxwell told me.  Congratulations.  But no, I think it best to stay
in the base until White has had a chance to properly train you physically.
Once you have his approval, then I'll allow you to leave."

My spirits smashed back into the floor.  White had told me he wasn't going
to approve me to leave the base until I could beat him in a fight.  I knew
that would normally take weeks of training, and required a lot of physical
strength.

Strength was something that I was losing by the second.

*****

"Come on, Wheeler, is that all you got?  I thought you used to be a
Marine!"

It was the morning of the fifth day since I uploaded the virus, and White
had taken me to the gym on L9 for some physical training.  The last thing I
wanted to do was anything physical.  The pain and weakness in my body had
escalated, and the light shaking in my hands was now a whole body tremor
that I could not restrain, something I explained away by telling everyone I
had drunk too much coffee this morning.

Now White was playing the football coach on me, making me run from here to
there, do sit-ups, push-ups, and now we were on pull-ups.

It was all I could do to make my body do one pull-up, let alone the ten he
was asking from me.

"Christ, Wheeler," he barked.  "Look at those guns on your arm.  You're
small but you're shredded.  You should be able to do ten pull-ups easy."

"I just can't!" I yelled.

"You gotta bring you're A-game.  None of this weak pussy shit.  It's you're
A-game or you might as well sit around playin' with your balls for all the
good it'll do you."

I dropped from the bar, exhausted and panting.  I wasn't normally this
weak, but today I was a sick, sick man, and there was no way I was gonna
get my body to do what he was asking of me without passing out or puking
everywhere.

After an extremely difficult workout, he told me we'd give up and hit the
showers downstairs.  I wasn't sure I could manage a shower, feeling more
like lying in bed, but I knew that if I did that White would suspect that I
wasn't feeling well.  I had to be tough.

It was just me and White in our suite when we came into the apartment, and
we went straight into the bathroom.  The shower was set up like a small
locker-room shower.  One long wall held two showerheads so that two people
could shower at once.  No curtains or dividers separated the shower from
the rest of the bathroom.

White grabbed a couple folded white towels and tossed me one.  It was
really saying something that I had a hard time reacting fast enough to
catch the thing.  Afterwards I hung it on a hook by my showerhead.

I saw White starting to get undressed, not carefully and neatly like I
would, but kicking his shoes off, flinging off his articles of clothing and
throwing them across the bathroom.  I turned around, steadied my
unsteadiness by grabbing onto the shower wall, and slowly undressed.

White was already under his showerhead when I came over and turned mine on.
I could tell from the steam coming from his side of the shower that his
water was hot.  I set mine to a more tepid temperature.

Standing under the flow of water, it actually felt nice.  I felt my head
being pulled down from the clouds and pinned back to my body.

"You really sucked out there today," White was saying.

I turned to face him.  His side was to me, and his head was looking
straight in front of him.  I took the opportunity to look down at his wet,
glistening body.  From this angle it was very nice.  Very muscular.  Not
totally lean, but very strong.

What most impressed me was the view of his soft dick that hung down in
front of him.  It was mostly blocked by his body from this angle, but I
could tell it was really huge.  Not angel huge, just huge for a man.  He
hadn't been lying before when he had boasted, I'd give him that.

"Aren't you gonna say anything?" he asked angrily.

"Me?  Oh yeah, um..." I looked back at the wall in front of me.  "I'm sorry
about that.  I'm just not myself today."

"Yeah, well you better get wit' it, bro."

White grabbed his soap and stepped away from the spray of the shower.  As
he started to lather, I figured he was one of those people who stepped out
from or turned off the water as they soaped up, then got back under to
rinse off.

He turned to face me as he lathered.  "I never expected such a lousy
performance from a guy built like you, Wheeler," he said, and his talking
to me seemed the invitation I was looking for to turn towards him and look
straight as him as I soaped myself up under the spray of the shower.

"I don't know what was with me," I said.

"You are the Gifted.  You have it in you to be the strongest motherfucker
on the fucking planet, and you give me a workout today that a
grade-schooler could one-up."

I could barely form sentences, I was so rushed with desire at that point.
Watching his back black hands grip that white bar of soap, watching him rub
down his meaty pecs, covering them with white streaks.  The soap moving
down to his torso, outlining the ridges of his abs in suds.

And down to his pubes, lathering them with white milk.

At that point I forced myself to look up to his face.  I knew that it would
not be cool to watch his lather up his dick.

"I'll give it my all next time," I assured him.

He looked at me with a tough eye.  "You'd better, boy.  Next time is
tomorrow morning.  If I don't see you busting yo' ass I swear I'll bust it
for ya."

He moved his bar of soap up to his face, clamped his eyes shut, and started
to lather up his head.

It was the perfect opportunity for me to look down at his dick.  The big,
black uncut thing was huge, hanging right over a great pair of low nuts.
Best of all, the whole area was covered with white sud-filled water.

The milky substance dripped down his torso, were directed into his V-lines,
straight to his pubes.  The soapy white substance slid down the length of
his thick dick slowly, finally hanging off in little globs at the tip of
the cock.

Delicious drops of cream were falling from the tip of his dick to the
floor, creating a pool of bubbly white on the tile that wasn't being washed
away.  Just looking at it was almost enough to make me cum right there.

In fact, it was my own raging hardon that led me to hurriedly spin around
towards the wall before White opened his eyes.  I kept myself hidden as he
moved back under the water, rinsed off, and turned off the water.

He toweled off quickly, wrapped the towel around his face, and left with a,
"You'd better bring it on the flip-side."

As soon as I was sure that he had gone into his room, I spun around again
and looked at the pool of white that he had still left behind.

I don't know what came into me.  It was like an animal took over, and I was
no longer a part of my own decisions.

However it happened, I dived onto the tile floor, rolling in the milk on
the ground, feeling it cover my body, my dick.  I rubbed my dick against
the tile, feeling the milk slush against my member.

I stuck my face into the pool of milk and stuck my tongue into it.  I
eagerly sucked it into my mouth and drank it down.

That's when it finally hit me.  I was drinking some dude's old suds, not
his cum.  And the soap tasted fucking terrible.

I got up, hacking, trying to get the soap flavor out of my throat.  What
the fuck had come over me?  What the fuck was wrong with me?

Ashamed, I finished my shower and got the hell out of there.

*****

That afternoon, Maxwell was leading me through the halls of L5 towards
another psi-ops lesson.

"You think now that you've learned how to shield yourself that you're
suddenly hot shit?" he had asked me.  "You don't know nothing yet.  You're
nothing more than a walking spunk receptacle at the moment.  Let's get you
to where you should be."

Now he was leading me down the hall, but walking around was getting so
tough for me.  I was sweating, feeling weak and dizzy again as I lumbered
along.

I guess Maxwell must have noticed me lagging behind, because he said,
"What's wrong with you?  Get your arse up here, mate!"

But I absolutely could not be prodded.  I was walking as fast as I could
right now.  When I saw him looking at me with a concerned look on his face,
I had to say something.  "Sorry, bro," I said.  "Guess I feel kinda beat
after my workout with White this morning."

He sneered.  "That cunt really put you through the ringer, didn't he?"
Maxwell asked, coming up to me and putting his hand on my shoulder.

Having him touch me with tenderness like that was enough to remind me of
Sam, and in my desperate state, enough to make me break down.  I didn't
cry, but I did sort of whimper and let my knees give out, causing me to
lunge forward suddenly.

 Maxwell caught me, cradled me, and held me up.  "Jesus, the dickwad really
did fuck you over, didn't he?" Maxwell asked.

He was just inches from my face, holding me up, looking into my eyes.  I
felt my emotions upheave even more.

"It's okay, mate," he said.  "I got ya."

I looked into his face, and there was no choice for me.  I moved forward
and pressed my lips to his, holding against him strong.

After a second of bliss, Maxwell backed off me, surprised.  I almost fell
as he stopped supporting me, and had to regain my balance.

"Whoa," he said.  "Fuck.  Fuck mate.  I didn't ask for that.  I didn't want
that.  I'm not like that."

It was like he was ripping into my body and pulling out my heart, not just
because he was making me feel rejected and ashamed, but because he was
literally killing me.  If he wasn't gonna go for me, it'd be my death.

"I'm sorry," was all I could say as I shook my head in shame.  I was that
fag now, that fag that had just fucked up the trust between him and one of
his straight bros.  I was shit.

"Look, why don't we forget about psi-ops for now," he said.  "Forget this
ever happened and call it a day."

I nodded limply but could not look him in the eye.  I knew my face must
have looked pissed, but that was exactly how I felt.  If I hadn't been so
ill, I'd have the desire to strike out.  Not necessarily at Maxwell, but at
anything that I could get my hands on, anything I could break.

"Later then," Maxwell said awkwardly, and he left me there in the hall.

I couldn't move for a long time.  Finally, I turned around and stumbled
slowly back to the elevator.

*****

On the morning of the sixth day, it took me an hour just to muster enough
energy to get out of bed.  I felt like I had some terrible disease.  Weak
beyond measure and in pain like before, but now my body with a fever, my
mouth remained parched no matter how much I drank, and my vision was
blurred.

And yet, I had to continue on.  I had to find a way to get the cum that my
body needed.  It was the only thought that kept me going, that gave me
strength.

I tried my damnedest to keep my cover as the other people in the apartment
saw me in this terrible state.

"Whoa," Julie said to me as she crossed paths with me in the kitchen.
"With a morning face like that, I hope you had fun last night.  Want me to
get you a coffee?"

"Sure, thanks," I muttered.

The coffee did jack shit.

Later that morning I had to go through the very last thing I was prepared
to face.  Another physical training session with White.

As he moved me through the exercise routine, he was at first dismayed and
the baffled at my performance.  Finally, halfway through, I gave up on him.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" he asked as I lay on the ground, wheezing
and sweating after what had been a light work out.  "You sick or
something?"

I shook my head violently.  "No," I said.  "Honestly?  I have asthma."

"Asthma?  You got asthma?"

I nodded.  "I didn't tell you before because I didn't want you to think I
was weak."

"Wheeler, you ARE weak," White said.  "Go to the doctor this afternoon and
have her get you an inhaler.  There's no excuse for not having one if
you're on the floor wheezing like an emphysema patient after one push-up."

I nodded that I would.

"Now get up and get your sweaty ass into the showers."

He practically dragged me downstairs into the bathroom.  Once again we were
the only two in there.

As he undressed and started to shower, he told me, "you'd better take a
cold one today, Wheeler.  Let it cool you off."

I nodded as I turned the water on to cool.  But I think I was too far gone
to be refreshed by a little cold water.

As I soaped up my body, I noticed that beside me, White had done that thing
where he stepped out of the water so he could soap himself down.  He was
half facing me, half turned to the side, but I could easily see his big
black dick.

He must not have noticed me looking, because he didn't say anything as I
gaped at his member, my eyes and mouth wide.  I was no longer able to look
away politely like I should have.  I ogled, dreaming about taking that
black tube into my mouth.  When he started to scrub the white soap into his
crotch, rolling first his cock around in the white and then his balls, I
actually drooled a little.

He raised the bar of soap to his face and closed his eyes like he did the
day before, and I kept looking at his dick.  The soap dripping down his
shaft, covering his head, and then oozing down to the ground in one long
white strand of cum.  Yes, yes, I needed that cum.  I had to have that cum.

I felt a sudden surge of adrenaline, perhaps the last burst of energy my
body was able to give.  I used to it dive for the prize, ramming my head
into his crotch.

I wrapped my hand around his body, tightly gripping onto his wet, bubble
butt.

And I opened my mouth and inhaled his soapy, floppy cock.

"What the fuck?" I heard him yell.  "Get the fuck off me!"

I would not, I could not.  I sucked his soft cock in my mouth, swallowing
every last bit of the suds.  I didn't care how bad it the soap tasted.

"Get the fuck off, motherfucker!" He yelled at his loudest, meanest tone of
voice as he tried to pry me off of him.

I would not let go.  I clamped on tighter.  When he pushed my face with his
hand I did what I had to; I bit down on his dick.

"Ah!  You motherfucking faggot!"

That's when he really started to rail on me.  Closed fist punches pounding
on my face.  After a couple, I was disoriented enough for him to get his
dick out of my mouth.  He kept on hitting me until I was flat on the wet
floor.  Then he kicked me a couple times for good measure.

"Fucking asshole," he said before grabbing his towel and walking out of
there.

I passed out.

*****

I guess I must have been lying there unconscious on the bathroom floor for
more than an hour.  When I woke up, I felt worse than ever.  Now my body
was in even more pain.  And parts of me were so stiff that I could barely
move them.  Worst of all, my left eye felt like it was glued shut; it would
not be pried open.

I got to my feet and turned the water off.  As I stumbled for a towel, I
caught my reflection in the mirror.

Completely red and black and swollen.  I looked like I had gotten the shit
kicked out of me, which is exactly what happened.  My left eye was so puffy
that it had totally closed over.

I dried off and left the bathroom, making a beeline for my room.  I didn't
want to see anybody like this, especially not White, who I knew I would
never be able to look at again in the face.  I wondered if he had already
reported what I had done to the rest of them.

I slowly and painfully got dressed.  I hobbled towards the bed, wanting
more than anything to escape into its comforts.  But I stopped before I
reached it.  If I lied down now, I wondered if I would ever be able to
stand again.  This could be it for me.

The thought scared me shitless.

That's how I found myself in the professor's office ten minutes later,
sitting on his chair, looking at him in the eye.

"My God," he said, standing up when he saw my face.  "What happened to you,
Bradley?"

I just looked at him.  Watched this old man in his old man's clothes.

"Bradley?" he asked again.

I shook my head slowly.  "I don't wanna talk about it," I said.

He walked towards me with that old, arthritic walk of his.  He stood in
front of me.  He knelt down, his knees cracking in the process.  He put his
hand on my shoulder.

"I am here to help," he said, and I new that he meant exactly what he said.
There was no mystery behind his scratchy, New York accented voice.

I looked up at his face, and then I just lost it.  Completely lost it.  Not
just crying, but desperate, ugly sobbing.

"What's wrong, Bradley?" he asked me.

I shook my head, tears pouring out of me.  "I am weak," I managed between
sobs.  "So, so weak."

He hugged me.  Pulled my head into his chest.  His jacket smelled like moth
balls, but I didn't pull back.  He stroked my hair.  "It's okay," he told
me.

I kept on crying.  My open mouth spilled saliva all over his jacket as I
sobbed freely.  I wrapped my arms tight around his lower back.

"You can tell me anything," he said.  "It's just between you and me."

I let my face slide down his jacket, my cheeks scraping along button on the
way down.  I planted my face against the waist of his pants.  I rested it
there for a minute, crying even harder.

Then I pulled my hands back from around his back.  I used them to unbutton
his fly and unzip.

"Bradley, what are you doing?" he asked me.

I didn't say anything, I just continued to sob.

I slowly pulled his shirt out of his pants until his wrinkly, yellow-white
stomach was exposed.  I slipped my hands into the waistband of his white
briefs.

"What are you doing?" he asked again.

Slowly, so slow, I started to pull his briefs down.  It was as if I thought
that if I went so slow, he wouldn't notice.  Wouldn't try to fight me.

It seemed to work.  He didn't fight me as I pulled his underwear and pants
down to his lower thigh.

His dick was right in front of me.  He old, shriveled, dick, capped with a
mess of white pubes and topping a drooping ballsack.

Fuck, it was the sickest thing I ever saw.  I shut my eyes and continued to
sob.

After counting to three in my head, I lunged forward and just did it, took
the whole soft thing in my mouth.

"Oh Bradley," the professor said above me, still stroking my hair.  "I
didn't know you felt this way about me."

His dick started to harden in my mouth.  I kept on sucking.

"Of course, I found you attractive from day one," he said.

His dick hardened fully.  I sucked and I sucked and I sucked, praying that
it would be over as soon as possible.

Images of my foster father and what he made me do to him flashed through my
mind.  It wasn't that I was being forced in this case, it was just the
similarity between the men.  Both were older, unattractive professionals.

And really, I reminded myself, I WAS being forced here.  Just not by the
professor.

"I'm so pleased that the feeling was mutual," he said.

I tried to picture Sam in my head.  His beautiful face.  His perfect dick.
I pretended it was him I was sucking off.

That only elicited a new wave of sobbing from me as the guilt and horror of
my betrayal set in.

No, I could not think about Sam.  I banished him from my head and forced
myself to stop crying.

"This can be the start of something special," he told me, his breaths now
rapid.  "Something that will last.  Isn't that what you want, Bradley?"

I mumbled "Uh-huh," all the while sucking harder and harder.

"Oh, Bradley..."

His load burst into my mouth, and I swallowed it like a dehydrated child
given a few drops of water.  There wasn't very much of it at his age, but I
drank down every bit.

"Alright, that's enough," he said as he pulled out of me.  "I'd love it if
I could do the same to you."

I just stared ahead, not able to make a sound.

"Bradley?" he asked me again.

I looked up at him.  Blinked.  Forced a smile.  "I'd love that too," I said
in my sweetest tone.  "But I'm really in pain from getting beat up.  I
think I need just to go downstairs and get some rest."

"Aren't you going to tell me how your injuries came about?"

"I will," I said.  "But not today.  We have plenty of time for all of that
later."  I stood up.

He stuffed his dick back in his pants and buttoned up.  "Here.  The least I
can do is walk you down."

I shook my head.  "No, I'll be fine on my own, thanks.  Goodbye Zev."

"See you soon, Bradley.  Take care.  It was really special."

I nodded, and walked like a ghost out the door.

By time I reached the elevator, the truth had sunk in.  Drinking another
man's cum did nothing for me.  Absolutely nothing.  Fuck!

Sam had told me many times before that the only thing that would keep me
alive was his cum, hadn't he?  What the hell was I doing thinking
otherwise?

It wasn't that I was crazy to men because their cum would help me in any
way.  I was attracted to them because their bodies resembled Sam's, and
that was the only reason.

As I walked into the apartment, I knew that I had just sucked off an old,
gross, desperate man for nothing at all.  I had just broken my vows to Sam
for absolutely nothing.

I was disgusting.

I rushed into the bathroom and puked into the toilet.  I hoped that I had
gotten up all of the professor's cum.

I crawled to my bed, and burst into tears again.

"I'm sorry, Sam," I said out loud.  "So, so, sorry.  I am shit.  Nothing
but shit."

As I slipped into sleep, I realized that this was probably it.  That I'd
probably die in the night, in my sleep.

With no possible way to survive left at my disposal, I opened my body to
the illness.

I welcomed death.

*****

When I woke up the next day, I cursed my resilient body, pissed that I was
still alive.  I tried to go back to sleep, but my body was in far too much
pain for that.

My back arched as I screamed out, a sudden spasm of pain owning my body.  I
knew I would die today, yes.  But I would be forced to die awake and in
pain.

It was the worst death imaginable.

I sobbed doubly, once for my pain and twice for my cruel fate.

Did I just have to sit here and while my body ripped itself apart?
Apparently so.

Unless there was a way to end it sooner.  An easier way out.

If I had been ten floors over the base level of the building instead of ten
floors under, I would have simply found a balcony and jumped.  Things
weren't gonna be that easy.

Then I remembered that I had seen West's holstered guns in her bedroom.  I
was sure they were loaded.

It was all I could do to stand up out of bed.  Afterwards I could barely
walk, dragging my feet around like a zombie as I walked across the
apartment, thanking God that it appeared to be empty.

I found a Glock in a holster hanging from her chair and picked it up.  It
felt so fucking heavy in my weak hand.

I fumbled with the safety, sobbing again now, but got it off.

With a hand that was trembling violently, I raised the gun to my head and
fingered the trigger.

Before I could squeeze, I felt someone take me down from behind, knocking
me on my face.

I was much too weak to even consider putting up a struggle.

My attacker kneeled on my back and pulled the gun out of my hand.  I heard
the safety go back on.

"Bradley."  It was West's earthy voice.  "Bradley, I cannot even begin to
comprehend what you were about to do.  Why would you?"

I just sobbed into the carpet.

"If I let you go will you promise me you won't try to hurt yourself?" she
asked me.

I didn't answer.

"Will you?" she asked again.

"Yes," I said.  "I promise."

She got back up.  Put the Glock away carefully.  "Okay," her voice was calm
again.  "Tell me, please.  Why were you about to do it?"

I sobbed again.  "Because I'm in so much pain," I said.  "So, so much pain.
I want it just to end."

"Sweetie, do you mean physical pain or feelings?"

"Physical," I moaned.  "I hurt so bad.  Just end it for me, please."

"Let me have a look at you," she said.

She gently turned me over so I was facing up.  When she touched me, I cried
out.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked me.

"Everywhere."

She gasped.  "Oh my, Bradley.  What happened to your face?  Who would do
that to you?"

I just sobbed in response.

"Bradley, you have to tell me who hurt you."

"No," I said.  "I won't."

"Why not?"

"I won't!" I shouted as loud as I could.  "I just fucking won't!"

"Alright, please Bradley.  I'm not going to argue."  She reached for the
phone.  "I've got to call the professor."

"No!" I yelled, reaching out my hand.  "You cannot call him, you cannot
tell him about me, please!"

"Did he do this to you, is that it?"

I looked away but would not answer.

"Well, I have to call someone."

"No.  Nobody.  Just take me to Medical."

"Alright."

She very gently helped me to my feet.  Then, with me leaning on her and her
arm supporting me, we walked slowly into the elevator.

She pressed the button for L7, and we started to go up.

Before we got to L7, the elevator stopped at L8, the R & D floor.  The
doors opened, and there was Medina, wearing a thick jacket and a colorful
beanie, complete with ear flaps.

She gasped when she saw me, and she turned her doe eyes towards West.
"What did you do to him?" she asked.

"I didn't do anything to him.  Help me get him to Medical."

She rushed in and supported my other side.  I was happy to have more weight
taken off of me.

"Where were you headed?" West asked Medina as the elevator resumed.

"Oh, up to... the mess hall.  To get a cup of tea."

"You were going to get tea in those winter clothes?" challenged West.

"Alright, okay, you got me," Medina let on.  "I was feeling creatively
stunted so I was about to take a much needed snow break.  Don't tell the
professor, he doesn't know."

Most of the medical floor was covered in darkness.  Hospital beds and
medical equipment and everything else that was out of use were covered in
sheets of stiff, semi-transparent plastic.

A lighted hallway led us to the area in use by Dr. Nguyen, a large, open
room with three glass walls and a glass doorway.  The back wall was painted
white, giving the room it's only medical mood.

The doctor was alone in the room in her labcoat, sitting at a desk and
looking over some files.  She turned as the girls dragged me into the room.
Her pretty face for once showed a hint of concern.

"Doctor," West said.  "Could we deposit him on one of these beds?"

"Of course," she said.  "Any of them."

Together the two women dragged me to a bed in the center of the room that
was lit by bright spotlights on the ceiling.  I squinted painfully.

"He was attacked?" the doctor asked.

West nodded.  "He won't say who attacked him."

The doctor looked at my puffy face.  "Maybe he got out somehow.  Maybe it
was a wolf."

"Maybe," West said, but she seemed skeptical.

"Help me get his shirt off," the doctor said.  "Mr. Wheeler, I'm going to
remove your shirt now.  And for once I want to hear your most sexually
inappropriate remark, okay?"

I mumbled in response, but when my shirt was off, I had nothing to say.

"He really is out of it," the doctor said.

"Well, is he gonna be okay?" Medina asked, her voice distinctly less calm
than the other two.  "You can fix him right up, can't you Doc?"

"I don't know, Ms. Medina.  Please just let me examine him."  I felt
fingers along my chest.  "Look.  Aside from bruises along his ribs, most of
the damage is to his face.  There aren't any lacerations anywhere.  And
from the looks of it, I'd say the bruises were about a day old."  She
looked down into my eyes.  "Mr. Wheeler, can you tell me if you think you
have any broken bones or other such injuries?"

I looked away.

"I may have no staff as of yet, but I do have an X-ray machine, and I will
scan your whole body if that's what it takes to answer my question."

"No," I muttered.

"Pardon?"

"No, I don't have any broken bones!"

"Well," the doctor said.  "There was no supernatural cause to these
injuries.  Mr. Wheeler must have gotten himself into the losing end of a
fistfight.  That's all."

"Fine," West said.  "But that doesn't explain why he's in so much pain that
he is willing to kill himself.  Or why he doesn't have the strength to
walk."

"He must have some condition that's secondary to his injuries," the doctor
said.  She opened my eyes and shined some light into them.  "He's
definitely very ill."  She rubbed under my jaw, my neck.  "But his body is
showing no sign of a virus or infection.  And he was disease free when I
checked him a couple days ago."

"So what is it?" West asked.  "What's your best guess?"

The doctor examined me some more.  "Hmm.  Maybe a drug overdose?" she
asked.  His symptoms seem to fit that."

"He was an admitted user," West said.

"Maybe that's why he wanted to kill himself!" Medina offered excitedly,
like a sleuth finally solving the mystery.  "He accidentally overdosed, new
he was going to die painfully, and wanted an easier way out!"

"No, it doesn't make sense," the doctor was saying.  "He doesn't have any
access to any drugs in here.  And he couldn't have brought them with him
because we carefully went through his belongings.  He was clean."

"Okay," West said.  "But we knew he was an addict before.  Maybe he's going
through a bad withdrawal."

"Hmm," the doctor said.  "His symptoms would fit withdrawal.  But I ran a
full drug-test on his blood a couple days ago.  He came out clean for every
substance.  Which means he hasn't used in at least a couple months."

"Which means he would have gone through withdrawal a long time ago," West
said.

"Correct.  And anyway, I've never seen a withdrawal this serious before."

"Yes you have, Doctor," West said.  "Oh my God.  Think about it."

"What is it?"

"When you sent his blood through the lab, did you check it for angel
symbiotic cells?"

There was a long pause.  "No," the doctor said.  "That isn't standard
procedure.  You're inferring that... Jesus, could that be it?"

West came over and grabbed my hand.  "Bradley," she said.  "I need your
full honesty here."

"You're right," the doctor said.  "Everything points towards that kind of
withdrawal.  They still have his blood sample in LA.  I could call and have
them run a test."

"Could the two of you just give me a moment with him alone?" West asked.
"I need to speak to him one on one."

"Sure, I'll just take a time out in the hallway there," Medina said.

"Alright," the doctor said.

When we were alone, West looked down at me and smiled.  "Bradley, I want to
help you.  Do you believe me when I tell you that?"

I thought about it.  "Yes," I said honestly.

"In order to do that I need you to tell me the full truth," she said.

"I can't," I told her, shutting my eyes.

"Look Bradley," she said.  "Remember back in LA when I told you that I
would always be there to protect you?  I want to make good on that promise
right now.  But in order for me to do that, you have to let me in."

I started to sob.  Her hand clutching mine, her strong yet warm voice.  I
fed off the comfort she was offering me, and it was making me want to let
go, want to let her in.

But no.  "You can't help me," I said.

"I can," she assured me.  "I can help you.  I will do everything in my
power to see you through this.  Because no matter what you've done, I'm
still going to be here for you, Bradley."

Tears poured down my face.  The pain was so intense in my body, I almost
could not take another moment of it.  It was pure hell.  I never thought it
could be this bad.  "I hurt so bad," I moaned.

"I want to help you ease your pain," she said.  "I think I can.  But I need
to know what's going on."  She put a gentle hand on my cheek.  "Don't you
understand that the one who did this to you is not your friend.  He cannot
be trusted.  But Bradley, you can trust me.  You know you can.  I have no
ulterior motives for helping you."

I started to think about my mother.  She had never been warm or nurturing
or wise, like a mother should be.  Neither was my cold bitch of a foster
mother.  No.  Except for my recent and all too brief experience with my
aunt, this was the first time I ever felt a maternal touch.  The first time
I was mothered.

I sobbed harder in my delirious state, mourning the mother I never had.

"Tell me," this new mother was urging me. So gently.

I was powerless to do otherwise.  I had to do as she said.

"I'm a Delector," I finally told her.

"An angel symbiont?"

"Yes."

She took a deep breath.  "Okay," she said.  "It's okay."  She squeezed my
hand.

I started to cry again.  The pain was just too much.  "No it isn't," I
whimpered.

"No?"

"I've done some very bad things," I said.  "Very bad."

"Look Bradley," she told me.  "Whatever you have done, all you have to do
is tell me in complete honesty.  Tell me, and all will be forgiven.  Can
you do that for me?"

I sobbed again, so confused, so conflicted.  "Yes," I told her.

What was I doing?  Was it her maternal touch that did it or my sense of
guilt for betraying her and the others?  No.  Those were factors, yes, but
most of all, it was about my pain.  My fear of dying.  If she could help
me, then I would do anything for that help.

Even betray the one I loved.

West called Medina and the doctor back in the room.  "Brad has admitted
that he's a symbiont," West told them.

"Oh my," Medina said.

"Great," the doctor spat.  "That means that he is an angel counter-agent
and we are all in danger."

"It's alright," West said.  "He's agreed to tell us everything."  She
walked back to my side and took my hand.  "Brad, can you tell me what your
purpose is here?"

I nodded and swallowed painfully.  "I'm not just a mole," I said.  "I'm the
Trojan horse."

"What does that mean?" the doctor asked snidely.

"The angels, the vampires, and the wolves have all formed an alliance in
order to destroy your agency," I said.

"That can't be true!" the doctor said.  "If it is, if those three have
joined forces, then we might as well hand ourselves over to them!"

"Bradley," West said.  "What exactly is your role here?"

"Wait around until you guys pick me up.  Get level 5 clearance and avoid
suspicion.  Wait for undercover operative to deliver a disk to me.  Use my
access to load the virus on the disk onto the network.  Wait eight days for
the virus to transfer all the Bridge's files onto the vampire's computers."

"Oh my sweet lord," Medina said.  "A computer virus.  How brilliant is
that?"

"You did all this?" the doctor asked me.  "You loaded this virus?"

I nodded.

"How long ago was that?" West asked.

"I did it in LA," I said.  "By tomorrow night, they will have all of your
files.  Know everything about you and all of your bases.  And the day after
tomorrow, at night..."

I moaned.  I was in so much pain.

"Brad, what happens the day after tomorrow?"

"They attack," I said.  "All of your bases worldwide, simultaneously.  They
kill everyone and blow up all the bases.  Poof, the Bridge is no more."

There was a silence as the three women looked at each other, all of them
with shocked looks on their faces.

The doctor was the first one to speak.  "You are a villain of the worst
sort, Mr. Wheeler," she hissed.

"Now doctor, he's helping us here," West said.  "He's turned.  He's on the
good side now."  She rubbed my forehead gently.  God, how I needed that
reassurance.

"Bradley," Medina said.  "For what it's worth, I just wanted to say that I
understand why you did what you did.  You're a victim as much as any of
us."

I didn't say anything.

"Okay," West said.  "We need to put out a global alert.  If we're to be
attacked in two days, we'll have to have everyone out of all the bases by
tomorrow."

"No," I said.  "Wait."

"Yes, Bradley?"

"The vampires have one of your own working for them in LA.  That's who gave
me the disk.  If he gets wind that the bases are being evacuated, he'll
tell the vampires and they'll attack right away."

"So, we arrest this mole before we do anything else," West said.  "Good
thinking.  Who is it?"

"I don't know," I said.  "We never actually met.  They just slipped the
virus disc under my door in the LA base."

"Is that all you know about them?  You don't know their sex or age or
position?"

"No.  All I know is that they were stationed in LA.  And they couldn't load
the virus themselves because they didn't have level 5 clearance."

"Okay," West said.  "That's a lot to go on.  For now let's involve as few
people as possible.  But we need Myers involved."

"For all we know, Myers could have been the mole," the doctor speculated.
"He was in LA and he doesn't have level 5 clearance."

"Doctor, both you and Julie here fit that description as well," West said.
"And yet, I trust both of you completely."

"What about yourself?" the doctor said, a tad defensively.  "Aren't you a
suspect here also?"

"Not technically, no," she said.  "I have level 5 clearance."

"Granted that," the doctor said.  "But Myers is a CTO.  Doesn't it seem to
follow that a CTO would be more likely to design a computer virus?"

"The agent didn't necessarily make the virus," I said.  "They just
delivered it to me."  I moaned painfully and clamped my eyes shut.  When
the wave of pain had receded some, I went on: "I don't think the mole is
Myers."

"Why not?" asked the doctor in a challenging tone of voice.

"I used Myers's computer to upload the virus," I said.  "But it was fucking
ordeal to get the guy to leave me alone so I could do it.  He was always
hanging around watching me.  If he had been the double agent, wouldn't he
have made it easier for me to have access to the computer?"

"Alright," West said.  "As the Lead agent, I'm making a unilateral decision
here.  Julie, go upstairs and find Myers.  Let him know everything that's
going on and bring him down here.  Don't tell anyone else what's going on,
and make sure Myers knows to do the same, okay?"

"Sure thing," she said.  "I'll be back in a jiffy.  You hang tight,
Bradley."

Once she left, West turned to the doctor.  "I told him I could help his
pain," she said.  "Is there something you could give him?"

"A shot of morphine would do the trick," she said.  "But I usually reserve
my drugs people who haven't just signed over the lives of thousands of good
people to be slaughtered."

"Just give it to him, please," West said.

The doctor opened a cupboard.  "Alright," she said.  "But I'm giving him a
low dose.  I don't want to knock him out.  He needs to be awake and alert
and ready to face the reality of what he's done."

She gave me a shot, and almost instantly I felt some relief in the pain.
But the weakness, the disorientation, those were still as strong as ever.
I had no doubt that I would die perhaps in a matter of hours.

"How's that, Bradley?" West asked me.

"An improvement," I mumbled.

"Good."

With the pain under control, I started to drift to sleep as West and the
doctor talked to each other about their predicament.  I woke up again when
Medina came back with Myers.

"Did Julie fill you in, Myers?" West asked.

"Yeah, I guess she did," he stammered.  "A virus on the network is like the
worst thing I can think of happening."

"Can you stop it before it steals anymore information?" asked West.

"Maybe," he said.  "I'll call every other CTO in the other bases to help.
That'd be the best shot here."

"No," West said.  "All we know right now is that our agency has been
infiltrated.  We can't trust the phone operators who monitor the internal
calls.  Cell phones can be bugged.  E-mails are obviously completely out of
bounds.  Until we get a grip on this mole situation, none of this goes
beyond us four."

"You're asking me to squash out a virus by myself?" Myers asked.  "It'll
take time."

"Uh, I can help," Medina offered hesitantly.

"How would you help?" Myers asked rudely.

"I kinda used to be a CTO.  That's how I started at the Bridge."

"Sweet," Myers said.  "Come upstairs with me then."

"Myers," West said.  "When you stop the virus, is there a way you can do it
without actually letting the vampires know what we've done?  So they don't
have any reason to move up their attack on us?  Maybe feed them fake
information or something?"

"I'll see what I can do," he said.  "I'm not a miracle worker here."

"And when you've finished, Myers," West continued.  "I want you to go
through the all the personnel who would have had access to Bradley in LA
without a level 5 clearance.  We need to nail down who our mole is."

"Got it," Myers said.  "Oh, I need his password for this to work."

"Bradley?" West asked.

I had to strain my brain to remember it.  "It's `Justice,'" I said.

"Huh.  How inappropriate," Myers said.

"Let's get computing, big guy," Medina said cheerfully, and she and Myers
left.

"Now," West said to the doctor.  "What can we do to help him."

The doctor gave me a thorough examination, hooking me up to monitors and
putting an IV in.

"So?" West asked when she was finished.

The doctor huffed through her nose.  "What can I say?  He's dying, you know
that much.  If he doesn't get angel semen into his system, I'd say he had
at best 24 hours to live."

I sobbed when I heard this, as true as I already knew it was.

"There's nothing you can do for him?" West asked sadly.

"I can reduce his pain some.  I can knock him out.  Make him as comfortable
as possible.  That's it.  He's a lost soul, Agent West."

There was a long silence as West let this sink in.  Her eyes looked up
painfully towards the ceiling, and I saw them mist over with tears.

After a moment, she asked, "What about Serum 7?"

The doctor scoffed.  "Serum 7 was a massive failure.  You know that."

"What is Serum 7?" I asked.

"Serum 7 was an experimental drug developed by the agency to cure the
symbiont's addiction," West said.  "To revert their bodies completely back
to normal."

I lifted my face up in alarm.  That's exactly what I needed to survive.

"Don't get his hopes up," the doctor said.  "Serum 7 never got off the
ground."

"It didn't work?" I mumbled.

"Oh, it worked all right," she said.  "But in the process it killed every
patient it was administered to.  Killed them before their addictions could
have.  It was much too strong for any man to survive the treatment.  After
further attempts to make the drug weaker, it was deemed hopeless and the
drug was permanently shelved."

"Maybe I could survive it," I said.

"Nobody could survive it, Mr. Wheeler.  You'd have to be Superman himself."

"Doctor," West said.  "That's exactly what he is.  He's Gifted.  If you had
given Serum 7 to The Red before he was killed, would he have survived it?"

She considered.  "I couldn't say," she said.  "He was several times as
strong as a normal man.  His immune system and healing factor were both
incredible.  He might have stood a chance against the Serum, but it's
impossible now to know."

"Bradley is like The Red," West said.

"He is but he isn't," the doctor said.  "The Red had fully accessed his
powers after many decades of training.  Mr. Wheeler here, on the other
hand, has not begun to advance his skills.  For all intents and purposes he
is a no more than a normal man.  If he was anything more than that, he
would not have reacted so dramatically to the small amount of morphine I
gave him.  The Red would have needed enough morphine to kill a horse just
to relieve a toothache."

My hopes sank back towards fatalistic thoughts as a heavy silence hung in
the air.

"But listen," West said hopefully.  "If I can somehow get Brad to access
his physical powers within the next 24 hours, then maybe he'll survive the
treatment."

"Maybe," the doctor said.  "But getting Mr. Wheeler to that point in the
course of that time would seem like madness even if he was at full
capacity.  The boy is on his death throes here.  How do you expect him to
respond to training?"

"All we can do is try," West said.

The doctor shrugged.  "Alright," she said.  "I highly doubt that this base
is stocked with the Serum, but I'll have to check my supply room.  This
could take a while."

She hurried out of the room, her white lab coat whooshing behind her.

West came to sit at my side again and grabbed my hand.

"Am I going to survive here?" I asked between labored breaths.

"We're going to try," she said.  "I'm going to call down Maxwell and White
and fill them in.  The professor needs to know as well as the Lead here."

I shook my head.  "No.  None of them can be involved."  The idea of facing
any of those three again was completely mortifying to me.  To ask them for
help was out of the question.

"Bradley," West said, "I understand your caution.  But Danielovitch has a
level 5 clearance like me, which means he could not be our mole.  And White
and Maxwell weren't even in LA to begin with.  All three are safe."

"No.  Please, Alyssa, all I'm asking is that you don't tell the three of
them.  At least wait until after I die.  Please."

"I'm pulling for you to survive this thing," she said.  "But alright.  For
now, we won't involve them."  She looked away, pensive for a moment.  "I
hate to ask you this, but in case you don't survive, I think it would be
best if you told me everything you know about the angels.  Anything that we
would find helpful."

I thought about it.  "I don't know," I said.  "You seem to know pretty much
everything."

"We know that their headquarters are still in Moscow," she said.  "We've
already infiltrated it once."

"The Ensis, they call it," I told her.  "But that's not their real
headquarters.  That's just the headquarters of the Cherubim."

"The who?"

"The Cherubim.  They're the vast majority of angels.  But all of the angels
are ruled by a secret order of seven, called the Seraphim.  They don't live
in Moscow.  They live in the Cathedral, their secret, well guarded home."

She nodded.  "Can you tell me where we could find this Cathedral?"

I nodded.  "I can.  I have the whole thing memorized.  Every fucking
direction down to precision."

"Let me jot this down."

I told her every part of the journey Sam and I took to get to the
Cathedral.  Afterwards, I told her, "That's all I can tell you about the
angels that you don't already know."

"This is more than enough," she said.

The doctor came back into the room.  "As I guessed, this base is not
stocked with Serum 7," she said.

"Is there anyway to get it?" West asked.

"Hmm.  LA had a sample.  I could call them and have them send it over, top
priority."

"Would that alert any suspicions?" West asked.

"I think not," the doctor said.  "All I'm doing is requesting a drug.
Nobody needs to be told why I'm asking for it."

"Alright, do it," West said.  "I'm going to go downstairs and properly arm
myself.  I don't feel safe in this base any longer.  I'll be back.  Hang in
there, Bradley."

After West left, I let myself drift off to sleep.  I was so, so tired, and
had no desire to interact with Dr. Nguyen, who still eyed me like a rat
that needed to be squashed.

*****

"Mmm," I moaned as I woke up again.  God, I still felt so shitty.

"Bradley, how do you feel?" asked West.  She was leaning over me.

"Like death," I answered.  "What time is it?"

"About seven," she said.  "You've been sleeping for quite a while.  I
thought I should let you rest up and reserve some energy.  Dr. Nguyen
called the LA base.  They are delivering Serum 7 to us in the morning.
Which means you will have all night to learn everything about your powers
that I can teach you.  Are you up to it?"

"I don't know," I moaned.

"See, I told you it could not be done," the doctor said.

"I'll try," I told West.  "I'm a strong motherfucker when I'm pushed into a
corner.  If anyone can do this, it's me."

West smiled.  "That's exactly what I was hoping to hear."

The room phone rang.  The doctor walked over to answer it.  "Medical," she
said.  "Just a moment."  She held the phone up towards West.  "It's Myers."

"Put him on speaker," West said.

The doctor pressed a button and the speaker came on.

"Myers, I have you on speaker with Dr. Nguyen and Bradley," West said.

"Uh, okay," came Myers's voice.  "I just called to say I want a raise."

"Why, what have you done?" asked West.

"The, uh, thing is taken care of.  Stopped it cold."  He was purposely
using vague language to keep the operators in the dark.

"Thank God," West said.  "Did you find a way to do it covertly?"

"It's all taken care of," Myers said.  "Lucky for you I'm the best CTO the
agency has.  Well, and Julie did almost as much as me."

"Where is Julie?" asked West.  "Can you put her on?  I want to congratulate
her personally."

"She's not here at the moment," Myers said.  "Went up to play in the snow
to celebrate, the crazy girl.  I'll tell her to call you when she gets back
in."

"Myers, could you come down here?  I'd like to talk to you in person about
our next endeavor."

"Right.  Let me finish up here, and I'll be down in a bit."  He hung up.

West was beaming.  "Much sooner than I would have guessed.  This is great
news.  We'll evacuate tomorrow.  When they attack the next night, it will
be an attack on empty bases."

"Good news, indeed," the doctor said.

"Bradley, do you need anything before we begin training?" West asked.

"Uh," I said.  "I'm really hungry, actually."

"Do you have anything to give him, Doctor?" asked West.

"I think so," she said as she started to look through her cupboards.  "Yes,
some fruit.  And some pudding.  Let me cut the fruit."

"Thanks Doctor," she said.

As she was working on my food, the Doctor said, "I really need a nurse on
staff.  I've never had to prepare my patients' meals for them."

When she was done, she gave West the plate of food.  "I hope he can feed
himself," she said.  "Because there's no way in hell that I'm spoon-feeding
him."

"Where's your bedside manner, Doctor?"

"I must have missed that day of medical school," she said.

"I'll do it," West said.  "I don't mind."

"I can feed myself," I said, grabbing the plate and putting it on my
stomach in front of me.

I started to eat.  It hurt to swallow, and my stomach didn't exactly sit
well with the food I was swallowing.  So I had to eat really slowly.

As I was finishing the last of my banana, there came a loud, sudden noise.

A buzzer-like alarm, coming in pulses.  So loud it could have woken up a
passed-out drunk.  Scared the crap out of me.

Along with the sound, I realized, red lights that had previously been off
were blinking.  They were in the room, and I could see them outside, in the
hallways.

"Oh no," West said, and I saw panic on her face.  The doctor looked just as
troubled.

"What is that?" I asked, putting aside my food.

"Lock down," a computerized man's voice came through the intercom.  "Lock
down.  All personnel should act accordingly."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means someone's trying to force their way inside," West said.

The doctor rushed over to the glass door.  "I'm locking us in," she said.

West walked towards the phone, picked it up.  "Hello, what's going on?
Hello?"  She started to punch buttons.  Then she hung up, frustrated.  "The
operators aren't there," she said.

I sat up fully in my bed.  The doctor was looking around us.  The three
glass walls of our room were outlined by a lit up hallway outside.  That
hallway led out into several different other hallways, all of them moving
away from the room we were in.  Most of those hallways were black, only
being lit up briefly every second or so by a flash of those red lights, and
that was barely enough light to see by.

By the way the doctor was looking around into the darkness, I could tell
she expected something to come out of the black.

A chill ran through me.  "Is there any other way we can communicate with
the other people in this base?" I asked West.

"Not without leaving this room and finding them on foot," West said.

"Maybe we should!" I suggested.  "Beats sitting here waiting for something
to jump out at us."

"No," West said.  "During a lockdown, the procedures are plain.  Lock
yourself in a safe room and wait until the all clear."

The doctor moved backwards to one of her cabinets, never letting her eyes
leave the windows.  She opened it up and pulled out a small handgun.  Then
she moved forward again, looking around cautiously through the glass.

She lifted the gun up and held it with both hands.  I saw her flip off the
safety.  She aimed out at the glass.

"Easy, Doctor," West advised.

"I'm just being prepared," the doctor said.  She was trying to stay calm,
but I could hear the fear in her voice.

All three of us stayed like that in silence for a while, looking back and
forth between the three glass walls that surrounded us, peering into the
darkness for some danger to spring forth.

I was watching the doctor as she moved to the edge of the wall to the right
of me, looking down one of the long black hallways.  She searched into it
as if she had seen something, some movement perhaps.

I looked into the same hallway but could see nothing.  Then again, in my
state, my vision was totally fucked.

Still the doctor seemed on edge.  I saw the gun in her hands begin to
tremble slightly.

Quick as lightening, a figure appeared out of the darkness, rushing right
to the glass in front of the doctor.

She fired as I jumped.

"No!" West yelled from the other side of their room.  "Guns down!  They're
ours!"

Yes, there were more figures now, rushing from the dark hallway.  On the
opposite wall, they were coming from the other direction too.

And they were all wearing uniforms.

"Soldiers," the doctor said, closing her eyes in relief.  "Thank God."  She
opened her eyes suddenly.  "I didn't hit that one, did I?"

"No," West said.  "The glass is bullet proof."

I looked at where the doctor had fired.  Just the tiniest crack in the
glass and nothing more.

The soldiers surrounded all three glass walls of our room, all of them with
AK-47s at the ready.  There were about twenty of them, and they positioned
themselves so that they were evenly spaced around us.  Each one of them
aimed their weapons out into the various hallways.  Every point of entry
was covered.

West went over to one of the soldiers and knocked on the glass.  "What's
going on?" she shouted.

The soldier looked over at her fearfully.  "Wolves breached the front
entrance, Ma'am," he yelled back.

The soldier next to him turned, shaking his head.  "Not wolves.  Vampires."

"I saw wolves," the first soldier said.

"Well, everyone else saw vampires," the second soldier said.

The first soldier looked back at West.  "Whatever it is, they're inside the
building.  We've sustained heavy casualties, Ma'am.  Our primary directive
now is to guard the Gifted."

"But there are others still alive up there, aren't there?" asked West.

He shook his head.  "I don't know, Ma'am.  We can only hope."

"Well," West said as she walked back over towards me and the doctor.
"Obviously the alliance is attacking well before schedule.  Goddamn!"  She
looked completely frazzled.

The doc gestured towards me with her gun.  "Obviously he lied to us.  Told
us we had a couple more days so that we'd stick around and he could hand us
right to them."

"I didn't fucking lie!" I yelled.  "I told the truth.  They told me nine
days.  That's the day after tomorrow!  That's all I know, I swear."  I
pointed to the gun the doctor was holding.  "And don't point your fucking
gun at me!  We already know you're a little too trigger happy with that
thing."

She glared at me, but moved the gun down.

West cut in.  "I don't think he's lying," she said.

"I'm not!"

"Then they must have gotten wind of Myers's so called "covert" elimination
of the virus," the doctor said.  "Myers made a mistake, they knew they were
discovered, so they sent in the forces."

"No," West said.  "Myers doesn't make mistakes.  And before she became an
engineer, Medina was the best CTO we had.  No, those two in collaboration
are not capable of making a mistake.  There must be another explanation."

"What other explanation could there possibly be?" asked the doctor.

"I don't know!" yelled West.  "I don't have all the answers.  What I do
know is that we are being attacked by great numbers of incredibly powerful
beings.  People are dying here.  All we need to think about now is
immediate survival.  The why's and the who's and the should-have-been's can
wait til later."

The doctor said nothing, but seemed convinced by this statement.  I sure as
hell was.  I got out of bed slowly and carefully put my shoes and my shirt
back on.  I couldn't stand upright without leaning against the side of the
bed, but all that mattered was that I was up.

All three of us returned to what we were doing before the soldiers had
come.  Waiting and staring out into the dark hallways.  Knowing for damn
sure something dangerous was going to pop out of there.  It was just a
question of "when."

"When" was answered for us after a few minutes of total silence.  "I think
I've got something over here," one of the soldiers called out, struggling
to be heard over the continuous buzz of the alarm.

Everyone turned towards the man who had said it.  He was against the right
wall, looking out into one of the dark hallways.

"Something's back there, I know it," the soldier said.

The soldiers to his immediate right and left moved in to flank them, and
they all three pointed their AKs towards the dark corridor.  West, the
doctor, and myself looked out that way, trying to discern something,
anything down the hall.

"I don't see anything," one of the other soldiers said.

"You can see it when the red lights blink on," the first soldier said.
"See?  There."

I squinted, waiting for the red lights to blink on again.  When they did, I
did see something, way back in the hallway.  But it could have been
anything.  A plant, a table, anything.

One of the soldiers voiced my doubt exactly.

"No, you can see when the lights flash," urged the first soldier.  "It's
changing locations.  Getting closer."

All eyes were on that hallway.  The red lights blinked, and I memorized
where exactly the unknown object was back there.

It blinked again, and damnit, it had moved forward.

Some of the others had seen what I had.  "Who's out there?" one of the
soldiers called down the hall.

There came no response.  But the thing was now moving faster towards us.

"Who's there!" shouted the soldiers again.

No answer.

"Shh.  You hear that?" One of the soldiers asked.

"What?"

"That sound it's making.  Like a growl."

Everyone remained silent.  We three inside the room could hear nothing
through the glass except for the alarm.  But outside, the other soldiers
thought otherwise.

"Yeah."

"I hear it."

"Sounds like a fucking wolf to me, John!"

Now there were five of them all in a bunch, all pointing their guns down
the dark hallway.  As the creature got closer to the lighted hallways we
were in, you could see is more clearly.  A big shadowed thing, taking up
the width of most of the hallway.  Stalking forward, its features still
totally obscured.

"One last chance, jackass," one of the soldiers said.  "Declare yourself or
we open fire."

No response.  Just the shadowy image lumbering forward.

"Fire at will," one of them said.

Several of them opened fire, the muzzle flashes lighting up the room.  West
went right up to the window to look out.

The soldiers stopped shooting.

The figure in shadows lurched forward into the light.

"Oh my God," West said, putting her hand to her mouth.

The doctor gasped beside me, as did every soldier out there.

In the pool of light, covered with bulletholes and blood, was Myers.  He
had a dagger stuck into his throat.  No wonder he was moving erratically
and unable to talk.

He lumbered forward, looking at us with vacant, accusing eyes.

And he fell to the ground.

"Myers.  No, no, no," West was saying.

A couple of the soldiers ran forward, out into the hallway towards Myers.
They kneeled down, inspected his body.

"I should go out there to help," the doctor said, starting for the door.

West spun around.  "No," she urged.  "There's clearly nothing anyone of us
can do.  Stay inside and leave the door locked."

"I should go out there," the doctor insisted, unlocking the door and
starting to push it open.

"AHHHHH!!"

It had come from the hallway where Myers lay, and at first I had figured it
was Myers's death scream.  But as I turned towards that hallway, I realized
it was one of the soldiers who was tending Myers, apparently freaking out.

And rightly so.  The soldier who was with him was missing a head, having
only a bloody stump above his shoulders.  The headless soldier slumped
against the wall, pouring blood out everywhere.

Before anyone could open fire, the second soldier out in the hall was
missing his head as well, bringing a finality to his screaming.

"Jesus," West said.  "Look!"

She pointed towards the other glass wall, the side of the building that
none of the soldiers were focused on.  Men in nice suits with ninja swords
in their hands were gliding towards us with supernatural grace.

"Over there!" West screamed as she started pounding on the glass.

The soldiers finally got the message, turning around to see the vampires
swarming into the area.

Several of them opened fire.

All of them moved towards this hallway as the vampires came forward.

The first vampire fell after being penetrated with what seemed like a
hundred rounds.  But there were so many more behind him.

"AH FUCK!!"

The three of us spun around to the opposite wall that the vampires were
coming towards.  There we could see another group of vampires rushing down
the opposite hallway.  They had taken advantage of all of the soldiers
being turned around, and had stabbed the last man on the end through the
torso.  They were moving in quickly on the next man.  He didn't have a
chance.

"Back there!" yelled West, pounding on the glass again to get the soldiers
in the back to turn around.

Finally, they turned and started shooting at the more immediate threat.

That's when we saw the group of vampires coming straight down the middle.

"Shit," West said.

"We're going to die here," the doctor said.

"It's a slaughter," West said.  I think she had started to cry.

One of the vampires had broken through the line of soldiers and was headed
straight for the door.

"Did you re-lock it?" West asked the doctor quickly.

"Fuck, no."

The doctor ran forward and hit the lock on the door just before the vampire
could open it.  The vampire grinned, looking in at the doctor through the
glass like a cat looks at a caged bird.  His evil eyes drifted to West, and
then finally to me.

The vampire was young, average height, and decently built with sandy brown
hair and an insane look on his face.

Something about him scared the shit out of me.  I took a step backwards as
he leered at me like a mad clown.

"I'll be right back, kiddies," the scary vampire cooed at us.  He waved,
turned, and ran of sight.

"I don't much like that guy," West said.

I glanced over at her.  I noticed that she was wearing a long jacket, and
wondered what weapons it concealed.  "I hope that when you went down to the
apartment earlier that jacket wasn't all you came back with," I told her.

"No," she said, reaching into her jacket and pulling out a pistol.  "I have
my Glock."

"Is that it?" I asked.

"No," she said.  "And this machete."  She pulled a short but very sharp
machete out of a strap in her jacket.  "For hacking."

"Atta girl," I said to her.

The crazy vampire reappeared again, still smiling like before, but now
holding a huge fucking gun over his shoulder.

"Rocket launcher?" I asked.

"No," West said.  "Grenade launcher."  She looked at the doctor.  "Get away
from the glass, now!"

The doctor ran back in my direction.

All at once every vampire that was near the glass ran for cover back in the
hallways.

The evil vampire took his shot.  A round object the size of a fist landed
with a thud on the front glass wall.

"Oh look, he's got sticky grenades," West grumbled.  "Back towards the far
wall!"

All three of us planted ourselves against the non-glass wall.

BOOM!!!

The explosion rocked the building, and heat scorched my back and my face as
the whole front wall erupted into fire and crashed down.

I opened my eyes again, coughing from the smoke.  As it started to clear, I
could see that all three of the glass walls had shattered.

"Four more dead!" screamed West, apparently about the soldiers who had been
nearby the explosion.

The remaining six soldiers ran in front of us, forming a sort of human
barrier between the three of us and the vampires, who were starting to
return from where they had gone for cover.

One of the soldiers turned towards West.

"Go!" he screamed through the fire of all the other soldiers' AKs.  "We'll
cover you!"

"I should be here to help!" West said.

"All that matters is that the Gifted lives!" he said.

"Alright," West told the man.  "Good luck!"

He nodded solemnly.  I think he must have known as well as we did that it
was suicide for him and his boys.

"We'll go this way."  West pointed down a dark hallway.  "I think this is
the only clear way to go."

"I'm ready," the doctor said.

I took a step away from the support from the wall, got light-headed, and
almost fell.

"Problem here," I said.  "I can't really walk."

"Doctor?" West said as she grabbed one of my arms and put it around her
shoulders.

The doctor came up to support my other side, and like that, the three of us
hobbled towards the black hallway, using the flashing red lights to find
our way through.

"We need to move faster," West said as another soldier screamed in pain
behind us.

"We are going as fast as we can!" snapped the doctor.

When we were halfway through the hallway, West asked, "Doctor, do you know
how to get to one of the elevators from here?"

"Yes," she said.  "The south elevator is the closer one.  This way."

She took us down another hallway that thankfully carried us further away
from the gun battle behind us.

Finally, we came to a lit up hallway which held the south elevator and the
south stairwell.  The doctor eagerly pressed the `up' button.

The button didn't light up.

"Come on!" she yelled, pressing it again and again.  Nothing.

"I thought this might have happened," West said.  "They probably destroyed
the elevators first thing.  Let's take the stairs.  It's safer that way
anyhow."

The doctor let out an exasperated breath, but she kept on helping me along
into the stairwell, which was at least better lit than the rest of the
building.

We were on L7, the medical floor.  We immediately started to climb up the
flight of stairs in front of us.

"This is fucking tough," I said through huffs as we climbed.  I was having
a real hard time finding any strength at all.

"We can do this," West said.

I sucked it up and I kept moving, but honestly it was the two women who
were carrying most of my weight.

When we reached the top of that flight of stairs and came to a landing, all
of us were dismayed.

"Where's the door?" the doctor asked.

"These floors are each two flights up," West said.  "Go, go.  The vampires
could be right behind us."

The next flight up was grueling, but we felt rewarded when we reached a
door marked L6.

"Alright," West said.  "Just five more stories up."

"My God," the doctor said.

"Five stories, that's no problem," I said, trying to pull out my inner
leader in spite of the weakness of my body.  "We can fucking do that two
times over."

"Yeah, that's easy for you to say," the doctor panted.  "You're the one
being carried here!"

"Come on," West said, pulling us towards the next flight up.

As we began our trek up to the next level, we heard a loud voice call out
from above.  "Let me through, you fucking filthy cunts!"

West looked upwards inquisitively.  "Garret?" she shouted up the stairwell.

"Who's there?" came his reply.

"Alyssa!  I have the doctor and Bradley with me!  Down here!"

A second later, Maxwell came trotting down the stairs.  He had dirt all
over his face, a huge red gash in his chest, and an assault rifle slung
over his shoulder.

"Jesus H Christ am I glad to see you fucks," he said.  "I thought I was the
only one left alive."

As much as I hadn't wanted West to let Maxwell in on my true mission, I
couldn't have been happier to see the guy, even more so when I saw he had a
really powerful gun.  I had no hard feelings towards him.  I had made a
desperate pass at him, and he had politely refused.  No harm in that, and I
was too sick and too scared now to be embarrassed about it.

"We have about ten vampires on our tail," West said quickly.  "By now
they'll have killed twenty of our men on L7.  We're trying to get to the
top on this stairwell but it's slow going.  Brad can barely move here."

"Blimey, what's wrong with the lad?" Maxwell asked.

"Long story," West said.  "And we've got to keep moving."

"Well, you can't go up that way," Maxwell said, pointing up the stairs.

"Why not?" asked the doctor desperately.

"That's where I came from.  They shot grenades down at me in the stairwell
and caved the fucker in one flight up from here.  Didn't manage to kill me
but completely blocked the way up to the next floor."

"Shit!" West exclaimed.  "We'll have to go across this floor to the north
stairwell."

"Well, if we can't go down, I guess that's the only way," Maxwell said,
walking towards the door.

"You're wounded," the doctor observed, nodding towards the gash on his
chest.  "Are you okay?"

He nodded.  "Still functional," he said.  "Hurts like buggery though."  He
motioned towards me.  "You ladies need help there?"

West shook her head.  "We have him.  You take point.  Cover us."

All of us went through the door marked L6, and we crossed into a series of
hallways much like the other floors, with all of them except for one being
dark.

Suddenly the buzzing alarm went off.

"Why'd it stop?" asked the doctor.

"Someone must have hit the switch upstairs in the control room," Maxwell
said.

It took a moment for my ears to adjust to the sudden silence.  I pointed at
the blinking red lights.  "Those lights are still on, though."

"They'll stay on," West said.

"Better take this hallway, huh?" Maxwell asked, pointing to the only hall
with the spotlights on the ceiling.

"What's on this floor, anyhow?" asked the doctor.

"The computer bay," Maxwell said.  "I believe it's this way."

We followed him down the lit up hallway.  He had his rifle out and ready in
front of him, and he peered carefully around every corner before giving us
the go-ahead.

"Where were you when the attack started?" West asked Maxwell.

"On L1 in the mess hall scoffing my supper down," he replied.  "They just
swarmed in.  Must have taken out the front gate guards in an instant.
Killed all the soldiers up there like they were made of paper.  Went on to
finish off the rest of the staff.  That's when I ran down."  He pointed
around the next bend of the hallway.  "Right, here it is.  Clear."

We followed him around the corner, and came into a huge round room.  We
were in the perimeter of that room, a hallway that went all the way around.
The inside of the circle, the majority of the room, was sunk low, about
half a floor down.  In the pit were dozens of tables filled with an
impressive array of computers.

"Welcome to the computer bay," Maxwell said, walking down one of the many
short staircases into the pit.  "We need to go all the way across, over
there," he said, pointing at a far hallway, the only other one that was
lit.

The three of us followed him down into the pit.  We shuffled forward,
moving in a zigzag motion across the room in order to avoid the equipment.

"It wasn't long ago that Myers called us from here with good news," West
said sadly, looking around.

We had gotten about three quarters of the way through the pit when Maxwell
stopped us.

"What is it?" asked the doctor.

He put his finger to his lips.  "Anyone else hear that rumbling?" he asked.

We all listened.  I did hear a sound, a rumbling sound, coming from up
ahead.

"It's getting louder," Maxwell said.

"Sounds like a heard of elephants!" West said, and right after she had said
it, the room started to shake.

Suddenly a man appeared out the lit up hallway in front of us, a large
black man in a leather biker jacket that I had met only once.

"Wolves," I said, digging my feet into the ground.

As the man moved forward, a line of transformed werewolves followed.  They
could barely fit though the halls, but they did, and they came out fast.

"Jesus fuck!" Maxwell said, moving back to cover us.

"There's must be twenty of them!" the doctor yelled, pulling out her
pistol.

The beasts moved towards us, a small army of monsters, some light-haired,
some dark, but all fucking huge.  They looked at us and sniffed, baring
their huge teeth and growling.

All of them were flanking the only one of them who was still in his human
appearance, the one that I remembered they called Case.

"This is it," the doctor said.  "This is the end."  She aimed her gun at
one of the beasts.

Maxwell aimed his gun forward, right at Case.  "Now you know I'm not
leaving this earth without taking one of you wankers with me," he said.
"And looks like you get to be the lucky one."

He started to run towards Case to get a clear shot.

Case raised his hand commandingly.  "Drop your gun and we'll allow you to
leave!" he ordered.

"Maxwell," I shouted, "DROP IT!!"

Maxwell either never heard me or chose not to listen.  He let out a volley
of fire, right into Case's chest.

Each bullet knocked Case backwards, but he never cried out.

When the bullets had stopped, Case sneered and ripped off his bloody
jacket.  "Great," he said, showing Maxwell the jacket.  "Bullet holes.  Do
you know how many fucking jackets I've had to replace?"  He threw it
angrily to the ground.

Case pulled off his shades with his left hand as he started to transform, a
process that was sickeningly horrible to watch.

When he had ripped through his clothes and turned into a full-sized
monster, the new Case roared his heart out, a roar practically loud enough
to crack plaster.

The Case monster ran at Maxwell, and as Maxwell futilely shouted and shot
him some more, the beast literally grabbed the agent's head with his paw,
sticking his claws into the poor guy's skull.  Next, he bit through
Maxwell's neck, ripping his head off of the body before angrily tossing it
across the room, where it smashed into a wall and left a bloody, brainy
mess.

Thank God I was accustomed to violence, or I might have lost my dinner at
that grizzly sight.  Likewise West and the doctor both were used to blood.

But the doctor was understandably frazzled.  She aimed her weapon at Case,
and he turned towards her, roaring with a newly targeted aggression.

As he started to charge her, I yelled, "Put away the fucking gun!"

She had enough sense to listen to me.  She re-pocketed her pistol, and
cringed, expecting the wolf to kill her just the same.

He stopped short right in front of her.  He roared at her, roared at all
three of us, but did nothing.

"Why aren't they attacking?" West asked.

"They won't as long as you don't draw your weapons," I said.

"Then what do we do now?" the doctor asked, her voice shaking.

"We keep going," I said.  "Just keep moving forward."

The two of them braced both my sides, and we moved forward slowly and
cautiously.

None of the wolves moved as we walked, they just stood there, looking down
at us, their drool hitting the floor.  We carefully moved around them as we
made our way to the lit up hallway.

There, in front of us, was one wolf blocking our path.

"What do we do?" asked West.

"Just keep moving towards him," I said.

As we got closer, the wolf began to growl, causing the doctor to stop cold
in her tracks.

Behind us, Case roared angrily.

As if commanded, the wolf blocking our path stepped out of the way.

We walked out of the computer bay and into the hall, all of us thankful to
have survived that confrontation.

When we reached the north elevator, we weren't surprised to find it out of
order.  We took the stairs.

"What happened back there?" asked West as soon as we were in the stairwell
and heading up.  "Wolves never behave in that fashion.  Not hurting us as
long as we don't draw a weapon?  Why?"

I considered.  "They're just lazy," I guessed.  "They'll get the vampires
to do their dirty work if they can help it.  They have little doubt that
we'll get out of here alive, so why bother killing us themselves?  And
wolves are devious.  Don't be surprised if they change their minds at any
moment and come rushing back here to kill us."

"That's why we need to climb these flights as quickly as possible," West
said.  "If we don't make it out of here, Maxwell's sacrifice will have
meant nothing."

Those words pretty much nipped any complaining the doctor might have made
in the bud.  All three of us proceeded as quickly as we could up the
stairs, with no talking.  Seeing Maxwell get torn to shreds was enough to
put even the most resilient of us in a solemn mood.

We climbed up to L5, the level where the conference rooms and offices were,
and all of us thought we could here the sounds of a battle raging within.
Needless to say, we kept on climbing.

By the time we had passed the L3 door, all three of us were huffing and
puffing and barely keeping on.  We were fucking beat.

We slowly climbed one set of stairs, then started on the other, walking up
until we could see the L2 door above us, a landmark we used to motivate
ourselves, knowing that as soon as we had finished this flight of stairs,
we just had one more level to climb.

But we were never to reach the top of that stairwell.

The door opened on L2, and we stopped in caution.  A man stepped through.
A man in a nice suit with a crazy look on his face and a grenade launcher
on his shoulder.  No, it wasn't the light-brown haired, young vampire we
had seen earlier, but it might have well have been.  This one was Hispanic,
but had the exact same demeanor.

He saw us almost immediately, and let out a little cackle.  "So glad I
didn't lose you," he said gleefully, even though I didn't ever remember
seeing this vampire before.

He shot a grenade at us, and it stuck to a stair three up from the one we
were standing on.

"Move!" West shouted.

All three of us spun around and tore down those stairs.  I carried my own
weight, knowing my balance was shit, but who needed balance when you're
careening down the stairs?

We rolled down to the landing when the explosion went off.  All of us
braced for impact.

Pieces of debris were thrown dust buried us.  But we were alive.

"Is everyone okay?" the doctor asked.

West and I both nodded.

I looked up.  Smoke swirled around us making it hard to see, but I could
make out that the grenade had collapsed the stairwell above us.

I coughed from the smoke and let my body go limp.  That tumble was just
about all it could take.  I felt like at any moment I would slip into
unconsciousness and never wake up.

Beside me, West was coughing as well, fanning the smoke away from her face
with her hand.  She looked at me and smiled.  "I don't know what's worse
for the baby," she joked.  "Inhaling all this smoke or falling down a
flight of stairs."

"What baby?" the doctor asked as she knocked the rubble away from her and
stood up.

I was referring to Bradley," West said, winking at me.

"As his physician I'd say he has more pressing concerns to his well-being
besides a little smoke and a little tumble."

"We won't be going any higher on this stairwell," West said as she stood
up.

"But at least that fucker is trapped on the other side," I said.

The doctor grabbed my arm.  "Up," she commanded me.

"I can't," I said.  "Guys, I'm fizzling out here.  I don't think I can
stand by myself."

"We'll lift you up then," West said, grabbing my other side.

The two of them hefted me up, and I somehow managed to stabilize my
trembling legs on the ground.

"Back down," West said.  "We'll cross over again to the south stairwell on
L3 and go up from there."

We went down the flight of stairs, shaking the dust off ourselves as we
went, and went through the door marked L3.

It was a bit of a shock to go from the brightly lit stairwell to the
interior of L3 that wasn't lit at all.  Well, unless you counted those
blinking red alarm lights that only lit things up intermittingly and dimly
at that.  I squinted in the dark, trying to get my eyes to adjust, but it
was hopeless.

"Shit," West said.  "This is one of those floors that isn't in use.  None
of these lights come on, and I've never been here.  Doctor, I don't suppose
you know the way to the south stairwell from here?"

"Afraid not," she said.  "But I suppose if we're at the north one here, it
must be straight ahead, right?"

"Maybe," West said.  "But none of the other floors have been laid out that
simply."

"All we can do is move forward and try to find our way," I mumbled.  I
realized that speaking, forming coherent sentences, was starting to become
laborious.

"Right," West said.  "This way."  She pointed into the hallway straight
ahead.

We walked into the dark hallway, but we might as well have been walking
into a black hole with the amount of our surroundings we could see.  Both
the doctor and West put their outside arms out so they could feel the sides
of both walls; otherwise we would have likely walked right into one of
them.

"I don't know about you two," the doctor said as we had moved into the
hallway and around a corner, "but I might as well have my eyes shut for all
the good they're doing me right now."

"Yeah, me too," I said.  "And it's fucking creepy here in the dark."

"Just keep your eyes on these red lights," West said.

But the red lights seemed like zero help to me.  I stopped trying to see
them and just accepted the blackness.

Soon I realized I was shivering.  "It's cold," I said, my teeth starting to
chatter.

"It is," the doctor said.  "They must have the environmental systems shut
off on these unused floors.  Remember how far we are underground.  The
natural temperature is bound to be chilly."

We kept walking into the darkness.

After we had made several more turns, I said, "I've completely lost my
sense of direction.  Which way were we trying to go originally?"

Neither one of them could answer me.

"Just keep moving," West said.  "We'll find it."

As we continued to move, I thought I heard a sound in the distance.  I
perked up.  "Did you hear that?"

The girls stopped moving and remained still.

"What did you hear?" asked the doctor.

"I don't know.  Like maybe a door shut somewhere in the distance."

We all listened again.

"Nothing," the doctor said.  "You're scared and your mind's playing tricks
on you."

"I'm not scared!" I said defensively.

"Bull," West said, not rudely, just calling me on it.  "We're being hunted
by vampires and wolves in an underground base in which we three could be
the only surviving personnel left.  We're lost in a maze of hallways in a
totally dark floor, and we know that at any given second some terrible
creature could pop out of the dark and kill us violently.  We're all scared
here, Bradley."

"Okay, so maybe I'm scared," I offered.  "But I'm telling you what I
heard."

"If there is something out there," West said, "perhaps it would be wise for
us to keep silent as we move."

"Agreed," the doctor said.

We shut up, and the women continued hauling me forward.  I experienced
another wave of dizziness and let my neck go limp for a moment, trying to
force myself to stay conscious.

We were doing well at staying quiet, in spite of the fact that this was
perhaps the single creepiest moment in all of our lives.  But it's hard to
not make a sound when some unseen object in the hallway trips all three of
you at once, knocking everyone to the ground.

"Fuck!" I cried out as I landed on the floor.

I had landed with my face right up against the face of one of the girls; I
could feel her cheek skin against mine, and realized my lips were touching
her lips.  Somewhere inside of me, the playboy hoped it was the hot doctor
I was pressed up against and not the mother-like West.

"What was that?" came West's voice from somewhere else.  So it was the
doctor I was tangled up with.  I didn't bother to move.

"Is everyone alright?" asked the doctor, only her voice was farther off
than West's.

I opened my eyes; when the red lights flashed, all I saw were two glassy
eyes looking right at me.

"Oh, it's a body!" the doctor said.

In spite of my zero energy, I found the strength to pull myself off the
dead body whose face I had been pressed against, feeling my heart race.

"He's holding something," West said.

"A gun?" asked the doctor.

"No."

I heard a click, and then an orange light flashed on, burning my eyes at
first.  West was holding a flashlight.

"Oh thank God," the doctor said.  "Point in down here."

West stood up as she aimed the light down at the body.  He was a short old
man in a gray uniform, lying across the hallway.

"One of the janitors," West said sadly.

The doctor checked for vitals.  "Definitely dead," she said.  "Oh look.
Fang marks on his neck."

"Vampires," West said, taking her flashlight and spinning it around us,
looking about, forwards and backwards in the dark.

"Maybe that means that they've already searched this floor and won't come
back," the doctor suggested as she got to her feet.

"Maybe," West said.  "All I know is, now that we have a light we can find
our way to this elusive south stairwell."

I moaned painfully as they picked me up again, feeling less and less
present.  I knew it would only be a matter of time before I could no longer
walk, but I didn't say anything.

West's flashlight made it easy to see where we were going, but it was so
unidirectional that it didn't really allay any of our fears that something
could be lurking just out of sight.

We came to a fork in the road.  Our hallway ended at another hall that was
perpendicular to the one we were in.

"Right or left?" asked West.

"Right," I said, having no clue at all, but knowing sometimes it was good
to fake confidence to keep the spirits of others afloat.

We scuttled to the right, West readjusting my arm on her shoulder and
letting the flashlight limp for a moment, the light hitting the ground.

After we had turned the corner, she lifted the light up again to shine on
our new path.

The doctor screamed, and my heart jumped.

There in the spotlight of West's beam was a face, not five feet ahead of
us.

A young, handsome man with short, light-brown hair and an evil smile was
standing right in front of us.

Oh, I hated this guy.

He laughed the high-pitched cackle of a crazy man, and leered, taking a
step towards us.  "Oh terrific, I finally found you," he said.  "Seems
we're always somehow getting separated.  Now there's nothing to keep us
apart."

West stopped supporting me with the hand that wasn't holding up the light,
and pulled out her Glock, pointing it at the vampire.

Taking her queue, the doctor pulled out her pistol and aimed it forward as
well.

"We'll shoot you if you come any closer," West said.

"Oh, I'm counting on it," he cooed back to her.  "But listen, most of my
brothers have fed, yet I remain hungry tonight.  Which one of you plucky
little humans should I make a meal out of?"  He looked back and forth
between the three of us, carefully examining our features.  "Eany, meany,
miney, moe..." he began, playfully counting between us, then he stopped and
put his finger to his chin.  "Now, how does the rest go?  Oh fuck it, I'll
just choose the hot one."  He pointed straight at the doctor.

She gasped a little and took a step back, her gun starting to shake.

He locked eyes with her and smiled wide, his fangs growing erect as he took
a step forward.

The doctor suddenly threw down her weapon.  "There," she said.  "I'm
unarmed.  You can't hurt me."

The vampire stopped, looked at her inquisitively, his smile fading.  "Well
darn, I guess I can't," he said.

Then he smiled bigger than ever again and moved like lightning towards the
doctor.

West unloaded her weapon on the bastard but the bullets didn't faze him at
all.

The doctor screamed as he grabbed her and pushed her back against the wall.
He sunk his teeth into her neck as she struggled, blood flowing down her
neck, staining her white coat red.

He latched on and started to feed as she screamed.

"Come on!" West yelled at me, and she pulled me down the opposite hallway.
She had holstered her gun again and was using her free arm to support me.

I leaned on her and walked away from the killing.

"There's nothing we can do for her," West sobbed.  "Poor, poor thing."

We turned the corner, the sounds of screaming dying down, but the sickening
sounds of feeding still going on loud and clear.

"We need to move fast," West said, pulling me hard now.

I was breathing so hard I was sure my heart was about to explode.  "I
can't," I protested.

"You have to!"

She pulled, and somehow I kept up.

Finally she opened a door that let in what seemed like a sea of light.
"The south stairs!" she cried as if we had just found the lost city of
Shangri-La.

We went into the stairwell, closing the door behind us, and she put her
flashlight in her coat.  "Up, she ordered me.

We started climbing the stairs.  She was moving faster now, more urgently,
perhaps because of the imminent danger behind us, or perhaps because she
knew how close we were to the top.

I was barely able to keep up.

Suddenly she gasped, stopping cold on the stairway.

Above us, the staircase was in ruins.  Debris and dust were everywhere, and
it was completely impassable.

West sunk to the ground, sitting on the steps, starting to cry in
frustration.  "Shit!" she called out.  "This isn't the south stairwell at
all.  We're back in the north one.  Somehow we got completely twisted
around."

I was too sick to be frustrated now.  "What now?" I asked her simply,
knowing I was past the point where I could make any decisions.

She wiped her tears from her face.  "We can't go back through L3 without
becoming dessert for that bastard in there.  We could try to cross over on
L4, but I don't know."  She seemed at the end of her rope.

She cried for a moment longer, then stopped suddenly.  "I have a thought,"
she said.

"Let's hear it."

She looked at me.  "I hate to say this, but even if we find a way to the
top floor of this building, it's still highly unlikely that we will be able
to get out.  They will almost certainly be guarding the entrance, and since
we know they're planning to blow up this base eventually, they could be
headed for the entrance any time soon, and we'd meet right up with them."

"Right," I said.

"But there's something else I remembered," she said.  "There might be
another way out of here."

"Tell me."

"It was rumored that The Red had base architects install a hidden way out
in all of his living quarters so that he could come and go as he pleased.
I think there's a good chance that the rumors are true."

I sighed.  "You're talking about going all the way back down the stairs.
I'm telling you right now, I can't walk that far."

"I'll carry you if I have to," she said.

"And what if we can't find this way out?"

She shook her head.  "We still would have a chance.  The Red's apartment
would be the best place to hide.  There's nobody down there, both
stairwells lead to just locked doors on that floor, no dark hallways for
them to lurk through or anything."

"What's the point of hiding in a building that's going to be blown up?" I
asked.

"If they're going to blow it up, then they have to vacate it before they
do.  If we can hide and stay alive until they leave the base, then we might
be able climb back up these stairs and leave the base before it blows."

I sighed again.  These were risky propositions.  "Alright," I said.  "I'll
do whatever you think is best."

She supported me, and we started down the stairs again.

We passed the door to L3 as quickly as I could manage, knowing that the
vampire could emerge through that door at any moment.

We kept moving down.  It was extremely arduous for me, and it seemed my
vision and hearing were fading by the second.

When we passed the door to L6, the door we first came in on this stairwell,
it felt to me like we would never get to the bottom.

We were approaching the landing between L6 and L7, the medical floor, when
both of us heard a noise.

A door below us, opening and shutting.

West looked at me with wide eyes, and slumped my body against the wall,
putting her finger to her mouth as she silently pulled out her Glock in one
hand and the machete in the other.

She crept down to where the stairwell ended, and pressed herself up against
the corner, listening intently.

A moment later she spun around the corner, her gun blazing, and screaming
like fucking Rambo.

I couldn't see what she was attacking, but I could hear the "thunk" sounds
of the machete chopping into something.

The gunfire stopped, as did the chopping and the screaming.

She reappeared around the corner, and I was thrilled to see she was
unarmed.  She smiled at me.  "A vampire," she said.  "Good thing too.  If
it had been a wolf, I wouldn't have been able to surprise it like that."

She returned to support me, and as we turned the corner and headed down the
stairs, I noticed the bloody mess she had created.  A vampire, his suit
soaked in blood, was now missing a head.

"You're one fucking tough chick, aren't you?" I asked, completely
surprised.

"When life calls for it," she said.

We continued down the stairs, fortunately with no further surprises.  At
around level 8, I almost passed out from the exertion.  I slumped into the
wall.

"Come on," she said.  "Keep going."

I tried to move, but I could not.  "My legs stopped working," I told her.

She sighed, then dutifully kneeled down in front of me.  "Just fall forward
onto my back, and try and hold on," she said.

When I was on her, she reached her hands back around to support my ass, and
she started to carry my piggy-back down the rest of the stairs.

When we finally got to L11, the bottom floor, she was the one huffing and
puffing as she pulled me through the door and out of the stairwell.

We were in a dark room that went nowhere.  No hallways led off of this
room, there was just the stairwell door behind us, and large wooden,
decoratively carved door in front of us.

"This door and the one by the other stairwell have been locked since The
Red was killed," West told me.  "I need to put you down for a second."

When she lowered me to the ground, I tried to lean against the wall, but
instead fell straight to the ground.

West moved to the wooden door, lifted her shoe, and kicked the sucker hard.
The lock broke beautifully and the door slammed open.

She somehow lifted me up on her back again, and we went into the dark
apartment, with West shutting the door behind us.  It was pitch black until
West pulled out her flashlight and shined it around.  She found a table
with a lamp on it nearby.

"Let's see if these still work after over a year," she said.

She flipped the switch, and the light came on, lighting up our surroundings
in a soft glow.

"Perfect," she said.  "Gosh, look at this place."

My vision was tunneling, but I could still register our surroundings.

We were in the entry hall of what seemed like some grand mansion or old
hotel.  The room was filled with beautifully carved woodwork, and all of
it, including the floor, was carved in a deep red, shiny wood.  The carpets
around the floor were all bright red, as was the wallpaper on all the
walls.  Even the lampshade that we had turned on was red, casting a red
light on everything, including ourselves.

Antique tables held up antique odds and ends, some of which were obviously
decorative, while some were quite odd, and others were just downright
creepy.

But the strangest thing about this room were the two staircases in front of
us.  They were extremely grand, both of them curving upwards, built
symmetrically to each other in that beautiful red wood, and carpeted in
bright red.  None of these features were too bizarre.  What WAS bizarre was
the way that the staircases just ended at the ceiling, leading to nowhere.

"This is only a one story apartment," West said about the stairs.  "Right
above here is where our apartment on L10 was.  The stairs can't go anywhere
here, they're just decorative."  She started carrying me around the room.
"We're looking for an exit here, if it exists at all.  Keep your eyes
peeled."

I mumbled an agreement.  Just being carried around was starting to feel
like too much effort for me.

West carried me through a huge open archway, and we had entered what seemed
to be a great room of sorts.  West turned on lamps as we passed by them,
and I realized how expansive this room really was, filled with couches and
chairs and tables that all seemed just thrown together, without any thought
given to placement.  The walls in this room were covered with hunting
trophies, some of the animals quite exotic and endangered.  A huge walk in
fire place carved in stone stood on the far side of the room.

West looked around the room carefully, looking behind furniture and
trophies, under rugs, we even stepped inside the fireplace but found
nothing but dirt and a flue-gate above us.  Nothing unordinary at all.

We kept moving, finding no sign of any secret exit anywhere we searched.
There were hallways leading off everywhere, and many doors in all the
hallways.  I sighed, realizing it would take ages to search through all of
this.

We went into a library, a study, a lounge.  It was starting to feel like
the Clue game I had played as a kid.

Finally we went into a dark room, turned on the lights, and saw something
new.

"His bedroom," West said, looking around the large room.

A four poster, canopy bed, all in red silk, was at the center of the room.
Around the rest of it were shelves with odd collections: old silverware,
broken china dolls, etc.  The walls were covered with the largest
collection of all: antique weapons of all kinds were hung up for display.

"Look at the windows," West said.

I looked at the windows, at first finding nothing unusual about them, then
realizing that we were underground, and there could be no windows here.
Behind the glass panes, The Red had carefully places photographs of grim
landscapes drenched in red light from the setting sun.

Like she had been doing through the whole house, West searched behind the
bookcases and pictures, and now she even looked behind the windows.
Nothing.

We left that room and kept on moving.  A bathroom, a second smaller
bedroom, the kitchen, dining room.  All of them were searched carefully.

By the time we got to the second grand entryway, whose front door clearly
led to the other stairwell, I was only on the edge of consciousness, and
had stopped holding onto West, leaving her to hold me up entirely.

"There must be something we missed," she said, looking ahead at the exit
door.

At that moment I heard a door open and shut; not one of the wooden
apartment doors, but the metal door of the stairwell outside.

West's short gasp let me know that she heard it too.  She froze, neither
one of us making a sound.

Then we heard the soft, clanking sound of someone trying to open the wooden
door and discovering it was locked.

That was all West could take.  She spun around, almost losing me in the
process, and ran as fast as she could back into the apartment.  As we tore
through the halls, we heard the heavy crack of the wooden door being
broken.

They were in the apartment.

West careened through the halls and ran into The Red's bedroom.  "I'm going
to put you down for a second," she said to me, and she carefully lowered me
onto the rug.

She shut the bedroom door and locked the several deadbolts on it.  I hadn't
noticed this door was so heavily fortified, but she must have, as she chose
this room for a reason.

She pulled out her Glock and had it ready, coming to my side and kneeling
beside me.

Even with all the danger, I could barely keep my eyes open.  The pain that
had been coursing through my body before was beginning to numb, and I
realized that I could no longer feel my legs or my torso.  Moving my hands
was an ordeal.

"Alyssa," I said through shallow, painful breaths.  "I'm not... I cannot...
I'm not doing well here."

She reached down with her free hand and clutched mine in hers.  I could
just barely feel her touch.  "Don't you worry," she said.  "I'm not going
to leave you.  I'm going to protect you to the end if that's what it
takes."

Suddenly there was another clanking noise; someone was trying the bedroom
door and finding it locked.  Alyssa spun around and aimed her weapon at the
door.

There was a loud bang as our attacker slammed against the door.  Yet the
locks held.

I realized that I was going to die here.  Not from this attacker, but from
my own body giving out.  I started hyperventilating, panicking because I
could not breathe.  It felt like I was underwater.

Another loud bang, only this time the locks gave and the door flew open.

Alyssa screamed and started to fire.

The figure that came through the door would have seemed entirely
anachronistic in any other place, but in these bizarre surroundings, it
somehow seemed appropriate.

We were being attacked by a glorious full suit of armor, in shiny silver so
light in tone it practically was white.  The armor was decoratively
engraved and outlined in dark silver.

Alyssa's brave attack proved useless, as each bullet just deflected off the
suit of armor with a ping and a spark of light.

The armor walked towards us, raising its mighty sword as my breathing
stopped entirely and my vision tunneled.

Alyssa screamed as the sword plunged through her body, right through the
stomach, and she slouched over, silent.  Dead.

My vision left, and then, blackness.

*****

I felt something on the inside before I felt anything on the outside; a
tingling warmth pulsed in a line from my throat to my crotch.

>From there the life, the feeling, spread slowly outward in pulses.  There
was no pain or discomfort that accompanied this life, it was utterly
blissful.

The warmth spread outwards, and I could once again feel my skin.  My arms
and legs pulsed to life again.

I could hear again, though all I heard was the sounds of my own moans.

I could feel my face warm up, electrically the feeling seeped back into
them.

I realized then that I had my lips wrapped around something wonderful.
Warm, magic liquid flowed continuously from this object into my mouth and
down my throat and through my whole body.

I tightened my lips against this warm, fleshy object, languishing in its
sweet juice.

I felt around with my hand.  I was lying in a soft bed.  As this magical
liquid rocked me with pleasure, I gripped the silky fabric underneath in my
hand.

My vision was the last to return as my eyes fluttered open.

All I could see at first was the huge rod of flesh whose pink knob was
lowered into my mouth.  I knew that this belonged to no human man as I
followed the hard shaft up, up, and still up, until it met the ends of two
muscular thighs high above my head.

He was kneeling, his knees on each side of my head.  He wasn't leaning
back, he was fully upright, the distance between his crotch and my mouth
necessary for him to put his cockhead in my mouth at this position.

He was completely naked, as was I, and he was sculpted so perfectly above
me.

Far above me was the most beautiful face ever created, surrounded by soft
locks of gold.  He was smiling at me, that smile that made me feel like no
matter what possibly happened, everything would be alright in the end.

"Drink," he said gently.  "Drink it all."

I reached up and put my still shaking hands to his dick, pulling it further
into my mouth.  The pulses of semen were still coming strong, and as my
body recovered, it also seemed to light on fire with passion.

I drank and I drank for an eternity.  I swore it must have been the largest
load he'd ever given me.

"That's it," Sam moaned, pleasurably.  "I've held this for so long, waiting
for you to receive it.  Take it from me."

I kept drinking, breathing eagerly out of my nose, bucking my hips up and
thrusting my naked erection into the air.  I was so amazingly turned on.

When the cum started to ebb, he reached down with both hands and started to
milk up his shaft and through the knob, draining every last drop of
pleasure into my mouth.

Finally, when it came no longer, he started to pull out.  I almost didn't
let him, holding onto the tip of his dick, wanting to keep it in my mouth
forever.  But he gently removed my hands and pulled back.

"I cannot wait to do this," he said.  "I have been weak for days without
it."

He moved down on my body, taking hold of my hard dick in his hands, sending
a magical tingling into me that almost made me cum right then.

But when he put his mouth on me, it was so much more powerful than his
fingers had been.  A pleasure so intense I would willingly kill for it.

With that kind of magic working on me, it was no time before I came, me
unloading a huge load for my standards as well.

When he had swallowed all of it, he crawled back up, put his naked body to
mine, and kissed me.  Behind him, I could see his wings come out and fan to
the side.

When he broke the kiss, he looked down at me, smiling.  "I feel completely
renewed," he said.  "All of my strength returned."

I carefully tried moving around, but sill felt weak.  I lifted my head up
off the silk pillow, but it fell back down in a spell of dizziness.

"I am not so lucky," I said.

"You would have died," he told me.  "Thank the Lord I found you when I did.
I couldn't find you for so long..."

I moaned and shut my eyes, thankful that I was alive, but still feeling
lousy.

"It'll help if you move around," he said to me.  "Do you have enough
strength to wrap your legs around my waist?"

I did as he asked, wrapping my legs around him and locking my ankles around
his lower back.

"Good," he said.

He put his hands under my back, supporting me, and he stood up off the bed,
taking me with him.  He carried me that way, with my legs wrapped around
him, my dick pressed into his waist, my arms around his neck, and my head
gently cradled by his shoulder and neck.  He held me tight with his warm
arms, rubbing my back lightly with his right hand, as he started to walk.

I opened my eyes.

We had just gotten off a canopy bed full of red silk.  A red light cast its
color on all of the surroundings.

We were in The Red's apartment.  My God, it was coming back to me.

To the side of the bed, various pieced of silver armor lay deconstructed.
Beside it lay a familiar sword.

It had been Sam's armor.

As Sam carried me out of the room, I didn't want to look at the bloody mess
that lay on the floor by the door.

I started to cry, clamping my eyes shut and digging my face into Sam's
neck.

"Oh, Sam," I sobbed.  "I've been so confused."

"It's okay," he soothed.

"As I got sicker I lost my bearings.  Forgot what was important to me.
Forgot what I was doing here.  Forgot who the bad guys were."

"Shh," he said, rubbing my back as he carried me around.  "Everything has
been righted for you now.  You're finally safe with me."

But I could not stop crying.  I was overcome with grief and guilt and
horror.  It must have been because I had betrayed Sam.  It had to have been
because I betrayed Sam.

Right?

"Sam, what happened to you?  Why did you leave me?"

He sighed.  "I'm so sorry," he said.  "The demons never told me that there
was a chance that you would be transferred to another base.  When I woke up
that night, you were completely gone.  I had no way of knowing where you
had left to."  He took a deep breath.  "These past few days were incredibly
difficult for me.  I needed to find you more than any other need, but I was
completely powerless."

"How did you finally find out where they took me?" I asked.

"The computer virus finally uncovered the information about this base and
that you were stationed here.  It only gave us this information yesterday.
As soon as I heard, I came here and planned an attack."

"You were supposed to attack two days from now," I said.

"I know.  I pushed the whole operation up to tonight.  Globally speaking, I
mean."

"But Sam," I said, "the virus wasn't supposed to be done downloading the
Bridge files until tomorrow night."

"I know," Sam said.  "But if I didn't come for you immediately, you might
have perished without me.  It might have already been too late, as far as I
knew.  So, we attacked unfinished."  He patted me on the back.  "Of course,
the virus is still downloading information, and it will do so until
tomorrow night.  If it finds anything important that we missed, which is
unlikely, the demons have agreed to deal with it."

I thought of telling him that Myers and Medina had stopped the virus, that
the files it was downloading now would contain nothing but fake
information, but I somehow didn't have the energy to get into it.  It
seemed so insignificant now.

"Why were there both vampires and wolves in the attack on this base?" I
asked him.

He laughed.  "Denver is a city currently at war.  The demons and wolves are
fighting here for the claim to this territory.  When we figured out there
was a base here, I realized that there weren't enough wolves or demons here
to take this, the most fortified base in the country, on their own.  The
forces had to be combined.  Rick sent his right-hand man, Case to lead the
wolves.  The demons brought in one who is their strongest to lead, the
strongest demon I've ever seen in battle, a young, brown-haired American,
who unfortunately possesses a clouded mind.  And I brought five Cherubim of
my own."

"Powers, like you were?" I asked.

He chuckled.  "Mostly, except for one.  You remember Luke, don't you?"

"Yes," I said, unable to say anything fond about the angel.

"He's here too, with his Delector.  I asked Nathaniel if I could borrow him
for this mission.  If he proves himself here, which he has already done,
Nathaniel has agreed to change him from a Throne to a Power."

"Wow," I said sarcastically.  "Good for him."

Sam didn't call me on my sarcasm.  "How are you feeling now?" he asked.

"Better, I think."

"Sit down here and rest for a moment," he told me as he sat me down in a
chair in the great room that he had walked into.  "I'll get our things."

The chair I was in faced the huge fireplace in the room, and without Sam's
warming touch, I suddenly wished it was lit.  It wasn't easy being totally
naked on a floor without heat.

I stood up and started walking around.

Sam came back quickly enough, carrying both of our clothes and his suit of
armor.

"Good to see you back on your feet," he said.

"I feel as strong as I ever have," I told him.  "Just cold."

"Here, get dressed."

He tossed me my clothes, and I started to put them on.

"Take this," he said, as he tossed me a familiar flashlight.  "It's dark
above, and you can't see in the dark as well as I can."

When I finished dressing, I watched as he carefully put on his suit of
armor.  I noticed the one place the armor left uncovered was his back,
obviously, I figured, so that his wings could come out and he could fly.

"This armor is the traditional battle gear of the Seraphim," Sam told me.
He slipped his helmet back over his head.  "It is forbidden for me to show
my face to Cherubim now, so I must keep this on around the others.  Of
course, it's quite effective as head protection as well."  He picked up his
sword.  "Are you ready to depart?" he asked me.

"You don't know how badly I want to get out of this hellhole," was my
affirmative response.

He pointed back towards the majority of the apartment.  "The entrance I
came in on is this way," he said.

Somehow the idea of crossing back through the part of the apartment that
held West's body frightened me.  I shook my head.  "I know a better way.
The north stairwell's really close."

"Well then," he said.  "Lead on."

I turned and led him into the entrance room with the fake double staircases
and through the broken in front door.  His armor clanked noisily behind me,
but he could actually move with some speed.

When I led him into the stairwell, we started to climb.

We had gone up two stories when Sam stopped.  "Wait," he said.  "Luke and
his Delector are on this floor.  Let's go meet up with them."

The idea of lollygagging around on L9 didn't excite me.  Going back into a
floor that I didn't need to be on at all made me anxious.  I just wanted to
keep on climbing.  But, it was Sam, so I shut up and did as he liked.

A chill went through me as we went into the door marked L9.  Like the other
floors I had the unfortunate experience of visiting after this whole attack
began, most of the hallways were pitch black.  What was worse, something
must have caught on fire on this floor because the halls were smoky, almost
making me cough.  You could see through the smoke, but it hung around like
a thick, brown fog and just added to the general creepiness of the
experience.

I switched on my flashlight.

"I'm in psychic contact with Luke," Sam told me.  "He's agreed to stay put
while we come find him.  This way."

Sam led me through the halls, apparently knowing which way to go, as he
didn't stick to the one lit up hallway in front of us like I would have
done, instead plunging into the thick smoky blackness of a dark hallway.  I
thanked God that I was armed with a flashlight.

We found Luke just chilling in a hall, dressed not in armor but in his
everyday clothes.  He looked just the same as when I had last seen him: red
curly hair, milky white skin, red pouty lips, and a permanent scowl.

"There you are, finally," Luke said as Sam came romping into view.  His
snobby Irish accent came back to my memory immediately.  "Honestly we were
starting to get a little lost down here."

"That is easy to do," Sam said.  "But the lighted hallway over there, if
you keep on going, will lead you to the north stairs."

"Splendid," Luke said.

"I believe you remember my Delector, Bradley," Sam said, pointing back at
me.

Luke looked at me but did not offer me any sort of greeting.  "Him I could
not forget," he said in his snotty tone.

"And Bradley, you remember Deepak," Sam said, pointing around the corner.

I stepped forward and saw Deepak, the middle-aged, pudgy Indian man who I
rather liked.  "Wassup?" I asked him.

"Good to see you again, my friend," he said cheerfully, stroking his white
beard.

"I'm in psychic contact with all of the Powers," Sam said.

"As am I," Luke seemed to be bragging.  "Dale and Salim are still guarding
the entrance.  Heath and Philemon are on the second floor down."

"I've told Heath and Philemon to find the wolves and take everyone to meet
us on L4," Sam told Luke.  "I want you to take Bradley up to L4 to meet
them."

"You want me to babysit YOUR Delector?" Luke asked disdainfully.

"Yes," Sam replied.  "I believe the vampires are on the floor below us.
I'm going to find them and reconvene everyone on L4."

"As you request," Luke said bitterly.

Sam started to walk towards the south staircase.  "Sam," I said.  "I'll
just go with you.  I'd rather not be separated."

"No, stay with Luke," Sam said.  "I'd rather not have you around the demons
anymore than you have to.  I'll see you soon."  He started to walk away
again, then stopped.  "Oh, and tread carefully around here.  There are
people still alive in places."

"I know," Luke said.

Sam's armor clinked away into the distance.  "Now," Luke said to me when
Sam was gone, "we need to go back to the staircase you came by.  Will you
please show us the way you came?"

I turned around, shining the flashlight into the smoky dark hallway behind
me.  "Well, fuck," I said.  "I really wasn't paying attention.  Sam got us
here."

"Terrific," Luke said sarcastically.

"But Sam already told us how to get out, didn't he?" asked Deepak.

"Right," I said, pointing up at the lit hallway.  "Follow the lights."  I
started to walk towards the lit up hallway.

Luke reached out his arm to stop me.  "I'll lead," he said forcefully.

"Fine, do what you want, dude."

He walked down the lit up hallway, with Deepak close by him and me a few
paces back.

"The smoke, the red lights, the darkness," Luke said.  "Is it me, Deepak,
or have we descended into Hell itself?"

"It would seem that way, yes," Deepak answered.  "I've had better evenings
than tonight, walking endlessly through these cavernous halls."

"Surely not even Dante could think up this kind of torture," Luke went on.
"Thanks be owed to Sam, who brought us here so eagerly.  Oh, I'm sorry.
He's no longer Sam, is he?  Justice," he said viciously.

"If it wasn't for Sam, you'd still be hooked into some wall in the Ensis
getting shocked," I reminded Luke.  "He's the only one who gives a shit
about you, so be careful what you say."

"Or at least, who I say it to," he said.  "Where are we now?" he asked with
sudden impatient exasperation.

In front of us, a pair of double doors were wide open, unlike all the other
locked doors we had been passing.  The lit up hallway continued past these
doors.

"The gym's in there," I said, remembering my couple of trips to the place.
"But we need to continue down this hallway.  The stairwell is right over
there."

"Wait," Luke said, looking around suddenly.  "There's someone close by
here.  A human agent."

He pulled out his sword and swished it around in front of him.

"In here," he said, pointing the tip of his sword at the gym.  "Let's find
him."

"Can't we just go upstairs?" I asked.

"No!" Luke snapped.  "You keep your mouth shut and follow my commands.
Remember your place, Delector.  Follow me."

Deepak pulled out a gun that he had holstered at his hip, and the three of
us walked into the dark gym.

I kept to the back, shining my flashlight around nervously as Luke led us
through the weight room, dancing around here and there, stalking an unseen
enemy.

Luke chuckled to himself.  "This one's playing his mind games with me.
Masking his thoughts, making it hard for me to divine anything from his
mind."  He tapped his sword against the wall.  "But I'm slowly breaking him
down.  He's 38.  He's American.  He's hiding somewhere in here."

Luke's sword hit a door that was slightly ajar.  He tapped the door a
couple of times.

"That's the locker room," I told him.

"This way," Luke told Deepak and me, stepping into the dark locker room.

Once again I was glad I had my flashlight, as the locker room was very dark
and extremely smoky.  But somehow I knew there was no substitute for a
really good gun.

Luke cruised along the rows of full length lockers, rapping each one twice
with the tip of his sword as he went.  Deepak was close by, but I stayed
back in the doorway since I was unarmed.

"It's vain to think you can hide from an angel, Sir," Luke said, continuing
along the lockers.

BAM!

One of the locker doors slammed open, a locker that was directly across the
room from where Luke was standing.

I gasped as Agent White leapt out of the locker, his semi-automatic pistol
in his right hand.

White lifted, aimed at Luke, and fired multiple rounds.

White's face stayed stoic, but Luke's became enraged.  It was not a face I
had ever seen on an Angel before, and it gave me chills.  With a leap
forward and a dance of his sword, he had severed White's gun arm at the
shoulder.

The arm hit the ground with a thunk.  The gun stopped blasting, and White
cried out in pain.

Luke turned and stepped back away from White.  "Fool to think you could
kill me with just a few little bullets," he said.

Behind him, White was reaching under his blazer with his left hand.
"True," he said, then lifted his hand out, revealing a small pistol.  "But
I can still kill him."

He turned the gun towards Deepak, and fired twice.

I was horrified as Deepak's head seemed to almost explode from the bullets,
his body falling to the ground.

Luke looked from Deepak to White.  He was beyond snide remarks.  He let out
a horrific scream of absolute, vengeful hatred.

He swung his sword hard, and literally cut White in half as easily as if he
was made of silly putty.

Luke's anger seemed to subside as he watched the remains of White's body
bleed onto his feet.  He turned to what was left of Deepak, kneeled down
and touched the body with a certain kind of tenderness.

"No..." he whispered.  "I'm so sorry.  So, so sorry."  He started to cry
then, a bit hysterical.  "No, no, no, no!  You can't leave me like this!"
He grabbed Deepak's collar hard with his fists, buried his sobbing face
into the red pulp of what was left of his face.  "Fuck you!" he shouted.
Whether it was directed at Deepak, himself, or perhaps God was impossible
to discern.  "Fuck you, you hear me?!"

Finally he seemed to remember I was in the room.  He looked at me watching
him, and became incensed.  "Get the fuck out of here!" he yelled at me.
"Get out!"

I turned tail and took off.  The dude was clearly crazy, and I did not want
to incite him anymore than was necessary.

With my flashlight in front of me, I left the gym and trotted through the
lit hallway to the north stairwell entrance.

I went up the stairs with haste, up five floors.  When I came to the door
marked L4, I pushed it open.

More dark hallways.  This floor was set up just like the floor above, the
floor that the doctor had been killed on and also the one that we had
gotten lost on.  This time, however, I had the flashlight from the
beginning.  I moved forward into a hall, and kept my sense of direction.

There was a large, open room on that floor, a sitting room with couches and
tables and such.  It was there that I found two angels that I had never
seen before and their two Delectors.  I imagined these angels must have
been Heath and Philemon.  They stood in one corner of the room.

In another corner was the pack of wolves, again managing to terrify me even
though I knew they probably wouldn't hurt me.  The huge beasts were
shuffling in place as if eager to move, and slobbering as if eager to sink
their teeth into some poor victim's flesh.

In front of them, like before, was Case.  He had transformed back into a
man form again, though now he was completely naked, save for a pair of
sunglasses that I couldn't believe he was willing to wear in these dark
conditions.  Dude must have had fucking good night vision.

Case seemed to look at me as soon as I came into the room and followed me
with his stance as I moved further in.  I didn't think it was camaraderie
he was showing me.

I nervously ran over to the angel corner, nodding hello at the two strange
angels and their Delectors.

"What's going on here?" I asked.

"We're waiting for the others," one of the angels answered me.

It didn't take long for the others to arrive.  Sam came in first, his
clinking armor announcing his arrival before anyone could actually see him.
He came over to the angel corner and patted an armored had on my back.

Then the demons came in, led by that insane brown-haired dude who was so
evil I had no doubt that he was the son of Satan himself.

The rest of the demon horde, all dressed in their dark suits, glided in,
filling up another corner of the room.

"We're ready to finish this operation," Sam told everyone.

The brown-haired demon came forward, holding something in his hands that I
hoped to God wasn't another grenade launcher.  It wasn't, it was a little
thing that was about the size of a fire alarm.

"The last bomb," he said, moving to one of the walls.  He attached the bomb
to the wall.  "You press these two buttons to arm it, like so," he said.

He pushed the buttons, and a red light came on.

I noticed, behind me, Luke slipped quietly into our corner of the room.  He
had blood on the white skin of his face and a cold expression that was
impossible to read.

"Now," continued the demon leader, "if anyone tried to turn off, move, or
tamper with the bomb in any way, it'll blow.  None of these agency slime
who are still alive in this base will be able to do a think to prevent
detonation."  He smiled sinisterly.  "We now have twelve bombs placed.  One
on every floor of this building and one in the parking garage outside.  You
all know where they are.  They are set to go off precisely on the hour.
Once they do, they will completely obliterate this entire compound.

"Only one out of twelve bombs have been activated," he continued, pointing
to the one he was standing on.  "This one."

"We will split up and sweep through this base one last time," Sam said.
"We activate the bombs as quickly as possible and head for the exit."

"Us vampires will take the first three floors and the garage," the head
demon said.  "We are the only ones who know where the bombs are on those
floors."

"The angels will take the three floors beneath this one," Sam said.  "And
the wolves will take the floor floors beneath."

"Oh, sure," Case yelled out in his deep voice.  "Give the wolves the shit
job!"

The monsters behind him growled in angry protest.

"That's how it'll be!" insisted Sam.  "Do this one last task and we can all
leave here and go our own ways!"

"Alright," Case said.  "Let's get the fucking show on the road."

"Right," Sam said.  "That's all."

With Sam's dismissal, everyone started to charge out of the room.  I
noticed the demons and the wolves were all walking the way I had come in,
towards the north staircase.

"Come on, this way," Sam said to the group of angels and Delectors as he
walked in the opposite direction as the crowd.  "We'll take the south
elevator staircase."

The group of us hurried through the dark hallway of L4.

"Luke," Sam began when we were almost to the stairs, "I'm sorry about-"

"Please don't say a thing," Luke cut him off.

"Wait," I said, stopping where I was.  "I just remembered something."

Sam stopped, and when he did, everyone followed his example.  "What is it?"

"We need to arm the bombs on the three floors below us, right?"

"Yes," Sam said.

I considered.  "That's the L5, L6, and L7."

"Yeah, so?" Luke asked sharply.

"We're going to the south staircase," I said.  "That will take us down to
L5, sure," I said.  "But beyond that the stairwell has been destroyed.  You
can't pass between L5 and L6, it's blocked."

I knew this because when West, the doctor, and myself were coming up the
south staircase after having fled the soldier massacre on L7, we had met
Maxwell, who told us the stairs were blocked.

"The north stairs are the only ones that aren't blocked going down to those
two floors," I added.

"Alright, nice thinking Bradley," Sam said.  "I want us to split into
threes.  I will take the south staircase down to L5 and arm the bomb on
that floor.  The rest of you will go back to the north stairs and head
down.  One of you will arm the bomb on L6, and two of you will arm the bomb
on L7."

"I'll take L6, my liege," said one of the angels I didn't know.

"I'll go to L7, my liege," said the other.

Luke looked towards Sam, grinding his teeth together.  "I guess that means
I'll go to L7 too."  Then he added, with a cold sarcastic venom, "My
liege."

Sam nodded.  "We'll all meet up on the outside when we're done," he said.
"Now go!"

The three angels and the two Delectors took off in the other direction for
the other staircase.  I followed Sam into the south staircase.

As soon as we were inside the well lit stairwell, Sam turned to face me.
"I know for a fact that above us these stairs are completely unobstructed.
I want you to run up there, as fast as you can, and leave through the
entrance into the parking garage.  Can you find your way there?"

"I know the way," I told him.

"Good.  I've already contacted Dale and Salim telepathically.  They are
waiting for you there.  I am in a constant link with them, so if you don't
arrive, or if something happens up there, I'll know immediately and I'll
come for you."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" I asked him.

"Yes," he replied.  "I can move faster without you, and I don't want you
down here in danger any longer than necessary."

"Cool," I said.  "Good luck, Sam."

"I'll see you soon."  He started to charge down the stairs.

I couldn't have been happier to hear Sam's suggestion.  I turned to the
ascending staircase and started to run up the stairs two at a time.  I
wanted to get the hell out of this place.

I was out of breath by the time I got to the top floor, but I didn't care.
I ran through the door into the top level.

Because L1 was in full use, it was lit very well.  But for once that extra
light might have been a curse.  Bodies covered the floors as I moved
through the area.  Mostly bodies of soldiers, but also the bodies of staff
employees.  All of them had been killed gruesomely.  Blood seemed to cover
every surface.

I worried that with my shitty luck I would probably run into some danger on
my way out of the building.  But for once the Lord seemed to be with me.  I
found the double doors that were the building's entrance and ran through
them.

I was in the parking garage.  The air was freezing out here.  To my right,
a road-ramp led up and out of the complex.  Guarding the entrance to this
ramp were two angels, a Hispanic one and a white one, neither of which I
remembered meeting previously.  They had their European swords armed and
ready, and both had their wings out, as if they were hoping to take flight
at any moment.  Their Delectors were standing to the side, both older and
both armed.

The Hispanic angel waved to me, and I ran over to the ramp.

"Bradley," he said.  "We've just reported to Justice that you are here
safely.  He is quite pleased."  The angel reached out his hand.  "I'm
Dale," he said.

I shook his hand.  "We just wait here now?" I asked.

"Wait for the other angels, yes," said the white angel.  "Salim here."

I wanted to get out of this building completely and into the open, but if I
had to wait, I would try and calm my anxiety.  I turned towards where all
the cars were parked in several rows.

I gasped a little.  There, in one of the spots, was the red corolla the
others had ridden in here on our journey from LA.

I walked across the garage over to the car, drawn to it.

"Where are you going?" Salim asked, obviously wanting me to stay close.

"Just over to the cars," I called back, and kept going.

I walked over to the car and touched the red paint, moving around the car.
I can't really put into words the odd mix of emotions I was feeling.

I didn't have an opportunity to sort it out, either.

I heard the front doors of the base open, and many footsteps running
through.

I ducked down behind the corolla and out of sight, but peered around the
back of it.  I saw the demons running through the entrance, their ninja
swords drawn.

They were led, like always, by the brown-haired devil.  "We have to arm
this bomb," he announced to the two angels, and he ran over to another bomb
that I hadn't noticed on the far wall.

A second later, it was blinking.

"That's it," the demon said.  The demons ran towards the ramp entrance and
the two guard angels.

"You can't pass here until everyone has arrived," Salim stated.

The brown-haired demon laughed.  "Oh, good heavens," he said.  "I couldn't
leave yet."  He grinned wildly.  "That is, not until I receive the
satisfaction of personally mutilating a pair of righteous angels."

The demon horde swarmed the angels.  In just a couple of seconds, both
Delectors had been impaled to death.  They didn't even get a chance to
scream.

It was at this point that I crawled under the corolla, fearing the demons
might see me if they walked over the cars.

The angels tried to fight back with their heavy swords, but it was two of
them against a whole gang of demons.  The demon leader stood back, happily
observing, while his cohorts covered the angels, stripping them of their
swords, and pinning them both up on the walls.

One of the demons handed their leader a strange looking gun.  He took it
and took aim at Salim.

While he struggled against them, the demons lifted Salim off the ground and
pulled his wings out to their full extension, holding the wings flat
against the walls.

The demon leader approached, and with a smile, he pulled the trigger of the
gun.  "Ha!" he exclaimed happily as a massively huge nail flew out of the
gun and pierced Salim's wing, pinning it into the wall.

Salim cried out, visibly terrified.

"Ha, ha, ha!" the demon continued firing three more shots into the wing.
Then he moved it over to the other wing.  "Ha, ha!  Ha, ha!"

With that, both of the wings were nailed to the wall, unable to move.  The
demons holding onto Salim held out his arms and pinned his hands down, palm
out.

I cringed as the demon leader nailed both of Salim's hands to the wall.

Now, as the demons moved off Salim, he was completely and permanently stuck
to the wall.  His face was absolutely anguished.

"You see, there's one facet of the Christian faith that I've always
admired," the leader said.  "Crucification.  It's absolutely delicious."

He did the exact same treatment to the other angel, Dale, only this time
much more efficiently.

"Now comes the fun part," the leader said.  "Hands on learning."

He stepped forward and started to beat the crap out of Salim.  Punching,
kicking, kneeing, you name it, he did it, with incredible speed and
precision.

He beat Salim until Salim passed out, then gave the same treatment to Dale.

"They're coming for you," Dale said after being almost beaten to death.

The leader sneered.  One of his underlings handed him another weapon, a new
one that was as large as a grenade launcher but was something else,
something I couldn't identify from my distance.

"You know what I like most about angels?" the leader asked Dale, smiling
obscenely.  "No guess?  It's that when you light them on fire, they burn
like paper."

He pulled the trigger of his new weapon, and when flames shot out, I
realized he was holding some high powered flame thrower.  He pointed the
fire at the unconscious Salim, incinerating him for a few seconds.

The demon was right.  Even when the flamethrower had stopped, Salim still
burned like he was made out of wood.  It was terrible to watch.  Salim
burned away right in front of me, until all that was left were a set of
charred bones.  With the wings turned into ash, the skeleton fell from the
wall to the floor.

The demon leader turned his attention towards Dale and grinned happily.
"Jealous?" he asked.  He hit the trigger again, and a spout of flame poured
onto Dale.

Dale burned for a moment, crying out.  But then he did something very
clever.  He turned into stone, a dark brown stone.  The flames darkened the
stone, but did no damage.

"Fuck!" the demon said, throwing his flamethrower to the ground.  "Fucking
waste of time!"

Another demon handed him a sledgehammer.  Wrathfully, the demon ran forward
and smashed it into the torso of the angel.

The angel screamed as his torso completely shattered, his lower body
falling off his upper body and smashing to the ground.

Suddenly Dale seemed to lose his focus, and he turned back into flesh.
With his body below his ribs completely gone, blood and organs spilled onto
the ground as Dale let out a final scream, his eyes shutting for good.

The demon's happy smile returned.  "Beautiful," he said.  He went up to
carefully examine his sick creations on the wall, actually moving in to
smell Dale's open body cavity.

All the other demons, meanwhile, ran through the ramp entrance and up the
ramp.  The bastards were all gonna get away scott fucking free, and there
was nothing I could possibly do about it.

The head demon moved over to the bone and ash remains of Salim, crouching
down to the ground and feeling the ash through his fingers.  When he had
finished, he turned around in such a way so that he was facing towards the
cars for a second.  That was all he needed to notice me hiding under the
car, looking at him.

He smiled playfully.  "What do we have here?" he asked, looking right at
me.  He winked coyly.

Fuck, what the fuck could I do now?

He sprinted towards me, leapt up, and landed on the car above me with a
hard thunk.

I looked around nervously, trying to formulate a plan.

Should I crawl out of here and make a run for it?

I felt a hand grip tight around my ankle.  "Gotcha," he said as he started
to pull me out.  Kicking didn't seem to help in the slightest.

I heard the base front door open, and then a familiar clanking sound of
metal against metal.  I whipped my head around and saw exactly what I had
hoped for, Sam running towards us, his shining sword in his hand.

Literally I was to be saved by my knight in shining armor, and I couldn't
have been happier about it.

"Hands off!" Sam yelled at the demon as he took a huge sword chop down at
the demon's arm that was holding my leg.

The demon let go of me and moved away before Sam could cut his hand off,
but the point was that Sam had freed me.

The demon slinked away from the car and stood up, looking Sam over.  "Did I
tell you how much I love the whole tin-man thing you got going on tonight?
You look so regal wrapped in foil."

Sam wasn't much for biting witticisms; Sam was a man of action.  He was
already charging the demon before the demon finished his insult.

They started to fight, moving so quickly around each other that it was
almost impossible for me to follow.

As Sam swung his sword around and the demon repeatedly met silver with his
fists, something significant occurred to me.  This demon was the one Sam
had described earlier as being the strongest demon in existence and the
strongest demon he'd ever seen.  I already knew that demons were stronger
as a rule than angels.  That meant that Sam was now fighting the strongest
being in world.

Surely he would lose.

Anxious at this new thought, I scuttled out from under the car.  Watching
them fight for a moment, I realized that I would be kidding myself if I
ever thought I could help Sam fight this guy with just my pair of fists.  I
looked around the room, thinking of picking up a possible weapon that could
help in some way.

"Bradley, get under the car!" Sam yelled at me once he saw that I had
emerged.  "I don't want you involved."

"But-"

"Do it!"  Another hit from the demon sent Sam flying backwards.

I wanted to help, but I had promised Sam I wouldn't ever question him in
the heat of battle like this again.  So, I did the only thing I could.  I
crawled back under the car, still certain that Sam was brutally outmatched.

Well, I thought.  At least Sam had a sword and the demon was fighting
without a weapon.

Almost exactly as I thought it, the demon struck a deft swing of his arm
and knocked Sam's sword away from him.  It flew most of the way across the
garage, completely useless.

And now it was really a hand to hand fight, and even with the suit of armor
on, Sam was getting knocked around a whole lot more than he was doing the
knocking.

Finally, Sam threw all of his weight into a running swing, a move that the
demon managed to dodge.  That was all he needed.  With Sam's momentum
carrying him the wrong way, the demon attacked from behind, hitting his
with a volley of punches and kicks.

Sam withstood the abuse for some time, but he was disoriented enough so
that he was just standing there, taking it.  And the demon kept on hitting.

Finally, Sam fell down on his back, struggling to regain his orientation
and stand up.

The demon backed off of him while Sam was still wriggling around on the
ground.  Quickly, the demon walked over to a nearby Ninja motorcycle that
was nearby.

I couldn't believe it, the fucker actually lifted that bike and held it up
over his head.  He lumbered over to where Sam was rolling around on the
ground.

With a huge downward swing, the demon slammed that bike down on Sam as hard
as he could.  Sam stopped moving entirely.

"No..." I said, my heart racing fearfully.

The demon, smiling at himself, threw the bike off of Sam and picked Sam up,
pulling Sam's silver gloves off and throwing them to the floor.  He grabbed
his discarded nail gun and carried Sam over to the wall.

I almost could not look at what came next.  Sam's wings weren't out of his
body, but just like he had done with the other two unfortunate angels, the
demon pulled Sam's limp hand up, placing it against the wall, palm out.

THWACK!

A huge-ass nail was sticking through his palm, his blood running down his
arm.

The demon lifted up the other hand and gave it the same treatment.

On Sam was hanging on the wall by the nails in his palms, the demon smiled
at him.  "You just wait right here for me, honeybunch," he said.  "Don't go
anywhere, you hear now?"  He cackled as he trotted happily across the room.

He found his own ninja sword from somewhere, and came trotting back.

"I do believe this is the first Seraphim I have the pleasure of killing,"
he said to Sam as he raised his sword.  "My only regret is that I do not
have the time to truly savor it."

He lifted the sword outwards, lining the thing up with Sam's neck.

I shut my eyes and turned my head, starting to feel sick.

I heard a loud metallic clang.

"Well, shit," the demon said.

I found the courage to open my eyes.  There was Sam, his head still intact.

The demon swung again, hard and fast.  Again the noise as the sword struck
Sam's armor, creating a spark, but the weapon could not penetrate it.

"Fucking hell," the demon said.  "Looks like I'll just have to get you
undressed, baby."

The demon put his hands over Sam's helmet and started to pull it off.  It
was on tight, but it seemed to me that the demon had pulled it up enough so
that I could see a large exposed strip of throat skin.  That would be
enough.

I looked frantically around the room, trying to come up with some plan, a
distraction at least.  I knew Sam had ordered me to stay under the car, but
fuck, he was about to get killed here.

I was considering going for that nail gun on the floor when the front base
door opened again.  I swung my head around, hoping to see the other angels
coming through.  Instead it was Case, still naked except for his shades.
He walked out and looked over the scene; the demon had killed two angels
and was about to finish his third.

The demon looked over and smiled at Case.  "Shouldn't you be down
activating bombs somewhere?" he asked.

"I was," Case said in a calm tone of voice.  "Then I had a hunch something
suspicious was happening up here.  So I left my boys to do the job and came
up to see.  Now I've seen."

The demon chuckled.  "I suppose you're going to try and save the life of
this self-rightous fuck?" he asked Case.

New hope poured into me.  Yes, Case would have to fight the demon and Sam
would have a chance.

But Case was shaking his head.  "Nah," he said.  "I don't give a fuck about
that pretentious, armor wearing clown.  You do us both a favor and finish
him off."

The demon smiled and nodded, and I got the urge to run out there, grab the
nail gun, and nail both of their fucking dicks to the wall.

The demon returned his attention to Sam, and raised his sword over the
exposed flesh of his throat.

Case just walked towards the up ramp, obviously intent on leaving.

"I can't let you leave here," the demon said, turning away from Sam and
walking towards Case.

"Why the fuck not?" Case asked.  The demon didn't answer him.  "You'll have
to stop me by force," Case said to him.

"I plan to."

As the demon ran towards Case with his sword, Case grabbed his shades,
tossed them to the floor, and began to transform, running back across the
garage to keep away from the demon.

When Case finished his gruesome transformation into a hulking, black-fur
covered monster, he roared at the demon, looking down at him from his huge
height, and charged the demon with his claws.

I watched the fight that ensued.  These two were much more evenly matched
than Sam and the demon had been.  It was brutal, and it was long and drawn
out.  They were literally killing each other right in front of me.

A moan from the other side of the room made me turn my head.  It was Sam!
He was coming to, rolling around against the wall!  He noticed the huge
nails through his palms and grunted.  He tried to free his hands from the
nails, but could not seem to manage it.

A scream made me turn back towards the fight.  The wolf, as cut up and
bloody as he was, had somehow managed to pin the demon's throat between his
hefty jaws.  Now he was biting down with all of his strength.

The demon's scream was reduced to a sick gurgling sound as he dropped his
sword and put both hands on the creature's snout, trying to pry it open.

The wolf kept on.  Blood poured from the wound down all over the demon's
body.  The demon's face turned pale and his eyes looked like they were
about ready to pop out of his head.

The demon's lower body, which had been thrashing around, was starting to
still.  The wolf was going to kill him!

I almost didn't see the three sword wielding demons that came down the
ramp, they rushed in so silently.  Somehow they must have heard that their
leader was about to have his head chewed off.

The three of them attacked the wolf at once, their swords all hacking into
his furry flesh.  The wolf was forced to drop the demon in his jaws, and
let loose a bloody roar as he started to fight three demons on his own.

The demon leader, meanwhile, convulsed on the ground, his throat wound
obviously killing him as more and more blood spilled out.

The wolf was putting up a fight against these three demons; they couldn't
have been very strong.  He pinned one down with his claws and tore his head
off with his teeth.  But in doing so, the other two demons both struck
vicious blows.  The wolf fell to the ground.

One of the demons tried to finish him off with a decapitating blow, but the
wolf had the strength to knock him away.

Apparently figuring the wolf was not worth the risk, the two demons left
him there, panting on the ground.  They ran over to their leader, who
actually seemed to be mending his throat wound somehow, and picked him up.

The two demons carried their leader up the ramp and out of sight.  I wasn't
happy that they had gotten away, but I was damned please to see them go.

I immediately ran out from under the car and over to where Sam was nailed
to the wall.  "Sam, are you okay?" I asked him frantically.

"I will be once I am no longer a wall decoration and am on my feet again,"
he told me.

"Let me help you," I said.

I grabbed the nail holding his right palm in the wall, gripped the nailhead
tight, and pulled with all my fucking strength.  No luck.  I pulled and
pulled, but not the slightest movement.

"Bradley, I'm not even strong enough to remove these nails on my own," Sam
said.  "I've already contacted the other angels.  They have finished arming
their bombs and are almost here.  They will help me."

Sure enough, the two angels that I didn't know came rushing out of the base
entrance, followed closely by their Delectors.  They quickly ran over to
Sam.  Both of the angels pulled at one nail at once, and they heaved the
first nail out.

Sam flexed his hand, the wound disappearing immediately.  "Beautiful," he
said.  "Now the other one."

While the were working on the other one, I noticed Luke walk out of the
base like he was on some leisurely stroll.  He looked over at Sam, but
didn't bother to help.

Though, I suppose Sam didn't need the extra help.  In a moment, the angels
had Sam completely free.

Meanwhile, Case had fully recovered from his battle wounds, and had quietly
transformed back into an oddly naked man.  He searched for his shades,
picked them off the ground, and put them back on.

Sam put a gentle hand on my shoulder from behind.  "Alright," he said to
everyone.  "All of these things are armed," he said, pointing at the bomb
in the garage.  "The other wolves are on their way up, and we don't have
much time before the hour.  Let's get as far away from here as we can."

Sam started to guide me towards the up ramp, and the others followed
behind.

A huge explosion suddenly rocked through the garage, knocking me on my ass
and setting bright fire in my eyes.

Sam jumped on top of me, his heavy armor pinning me down painfully as the
explosion shook the place like a huge fucking earthquake.

I figured that the bombs were going off early.  That we were totally
fucked.

Debris fell everywhere, and suddenly the heat and light of the fire was
gone.  Suddenly it felt like I was in the middle of a rockslide, with
pieces of earth falling everywhere in front of me.

Then, silence.  I coughed up a billow of dust.

Sam slowly got up off of me.  "Are you okay?" he asked me first.

I nodded, wiping the dirt off of me.  There was dirt everywhere, all over
everything.

The others were getting up, just as dazed and filthy as I was.

"What happened?" I asked Sam.

"There was an explosion somewhere up there in the ramp," he said.  "Look."

I turned to face the ramp, and I saw that the whole fucking thing had
collapsed.  Ahead of us was just a wall of dirt and rocks and pieces of
concrete.

"Fuck," I said.  "That's our only way out!"

"The vampires did this," Case said.  "Fucking rotten scheming bastards!
They planned this all along!  Cave in the entrance and let us all die in
the explosion!"

I looked behind me.  Luke looked positively stunned.  I had never seen him
seem so stripped of his confidence.  The other two angels were trying to
comfort their Delectors.

The other wolves started to pour out of the base, expecting of course to be
on their way out.  Case grimly reported the bad news.  The creatures
growled and snarled angrily.

"Alright," said Case.  "We only have a few minutes here before the bombs
go."

"Can't we turn the bombs off?" asked Luke.

"No," Case said.  "The vampire told us that if any of the bombs are moved
or tampered with, they'll blow.  Our best bet it to use all the manpower we
have to try and dig our way out of this tunnel.  Let's do it boys,
immediately!"

All of the wolves ran over to the sunken in tunnel and started to dig
through the dirt and debris.

Sam looked over at the angels.  "He's right.  It's our only chance."

"I'm not going to die down here," Luke said angrily, glaring at Sam.  "Come
on, both of you," he said to the two Powers.  "Delectors too, everyone digs
if they want to live."

All of us went over to that wall of dirt and rocks and dug through it with
all of our strength.

After a couple of minutes of grueling labor, I turned to Sam.  "Do you
really think we'll make it out of this?"

He considered for a long moment.  "In all honesty, it isn't likely," he
said.  "This was a carefully planned explosion by the demons.  They would
have caved in enough of the tunnel so that we wouldn't have the time to dig
out."

I nodded grimly and kept digging.  I thought of saying something else to
Sam, knowing that we were probably both about to be blown to pieces,
something sweet and affectionate, but we were surrounded by fucking
werewolves.  I didn't want to look like a fucking fag.

We kept on digging and digging.  I put all my effort into what I was doing,
in spite of the fact that I could never keep up with the wolves, who seemed
suddenly to be built just for digging, or even the angels, who had the
strength to move heavy boulders and the speed to quickly move through dirt.
Still, as little as I was helping, I felt useful.

Then, suddenly, I stopped digging, thinking to myself.  Luke looked at me
and sneered.  "You can daydream later," he said.  "This is no time for
laziness."

I ignored him and grabbed Sam from behind.  "Sam, I have an idea," I said.

"Tell me," Sam said as he continued to dig.

"There may be another way out of here," I said, loudly enough for everyone
to hear me.  Many of them turned to look at me as they dug into the wall.

"Where is it?" Sam asked me.

"Apparently, in the apartment on the bottom floor of this base, there's a
secret way out."

Upon hearing this, most of the others who had been looking at me groaned
and turned back to focus on their digging.

"Now, we searched the whole apartment up and down and didn't find
anything," I said.  "But, thinking about it now, I think I know where the
exit might be.  We could all go down there and escape that way."

"Bradley," Sam said, "I admire the creative problem solving, but we have
just 12 minutes here until this whole place blows sky-high.  That's not
enough time to go all the way down there."

"We could go fast," I urged.

"And once we got there, what if you are mistaken and there is no way out?"
asked Sam.  "We'd be stuck down there."

"I know the risks," I said.  "But you said yourself that we weren't going
to dig through this wall."

"Our best bet is to keep on digging!" Case yelled at me, apparently
overhearing our conversation.  "Can't you see that?"

"All I'm saying is that we have more of a chance going back in than we do
of digging through this wall in 12 minutes," I said.

Nobody responded to me.

"Well, I'm going down," I stated angrily.

"You will most certainly not!" Sam told me.

I stood defiant.  "Unless you order me to stay up here and die, Sam, then
I'm going down there and I'm taking my chances."

Sam looked up at the wall of dirt.  "Alright, fuck it," he said.  "I'm
coming with you then."

"Thanks Sam," I said.  "If you can trust my gut feeling, then it's our best
bet, I know it."

"Alright everybody," Sam projected to the group.  Everyone stopped digging
and looked back.  "You've heard what the boy's said.  Make your choice.
Come with us, or stay here and dig."

There was a moment where nobody moved and nobody said a thing.

Then all of the wolves grumbled and turned back, resuming their digging.

"It's the smart thing to do," Luke said to the other two angels.  "With the
wolves digging through this as quickly as they are, we'll pull through this
if we stay."

Sam turned to face the Powers.  "Don't think that you have to follow me,"
he told them.  "You do what you think is the most prudent course of
action."

Both angels decided to stay.

"Well kid," Sam said, putting his hand on my shoulder as we walked towards
the base entrance.  "I guess it's just me and you, like usual."

"And me."

We spun around.  Case was walking towards us, his naked body now covered
with dirt but the shades remaining clean.

"I'm coming along," he said.

I scoffed.  "YOU trust ME to get you out of here?" I asked him.

"Not at all.  I wouldn't trust an angel farther than I could piss, and that
goes for one of his little bitches as well."

"Watch your mouth," Sam warned.

Case paid no attention.  "I'm coming because I wouldn't be surprised if
you're scheming something.  Something that'll result in the untimely death
of my boys.  So, I'm coming along to watch you, even if it means killing
myself in the process."

"Is there nobility among wolves?" Sam asked doubtfully.

"Let's just get on with it," Case said.

The three of us ran off, and went through the double doors into the first
floor of the base.

A sickening feeling came over me as I walked back through those doors.
There was nothing I wanted less than to return to this place.

I looked around again at the carnage on that floor, the remains of an
intense battle.  I swallowed the spit that had been collecting in the back
of my mouth, and I got my bearings.

"This way," I said, stepping over the body of a dead soldier.  "We need to
go to the south stairwell."  It was the stairwell I had come up through.

Sam grabbed my arm and stopped me.  "We can't go that way," he said.  "The
demons blew up the entrance to the south staircase after they left through
it onto this floor.  There's no way through."

"He's right," Case said.  "I found the same thing when I tried to come up
through there."

"That's what took me so long to get to you when the demon was attacking,"
Sam said.  I had to go across on L2 to the north stairs, then up to this
floor."  He pointed.  "This is the way to the north stairs."

Case and I followed him, quickly trotting over uniformed bodies and fallen
guns.

We went into the north stairwell, and started running down the stairs.
"You can't go down past L2 here," I yelled ahead to Sam, remembering the
demon that had tried to take out West, the doctor, and myself with a
grenade launcher and ended up collapsing the stairs.

"Alright," Sam said.  "We'll cross over on L2.  Quickly, we don't have much
time here."

Sam pushed open the door to L2, and I went through after, tailed by Case.
I had never been on this floor, but clearly Sam knew where he was going.

L2 was completely lit up like the floor above, and was in a similar state
of bloodied chaos.  However, the soldiers on the top floor had all gone
down fighting, dressed in their uniforms and with guns in their hands.
This floor was the site of a massacre.

The whole floor was filled with living quarters, and all of the doors were
wide open.  Here is where all the soldiers who had been off duty had been
killed.  We passed room after room of soldiers who had been shot in their
beds.  A kitchen where two soldiers had been caught in the middle of
cooking, the refrigerator wide open and the milk on the ground mixing with
their blood.  A soldier who had been shot while watching a TV set that was
still on.

I reminded myself that these were bad people who were working for the wrong
side.  It was their choice to come here.  That's why they died.

Finally Sam led us to the stairwell door, and we rushed through, running
down the stairs.  I ran down as quickly as I could, knowing that both Sam
and Case were capable of moving much faster than me on their own.

After we had gone down a couple of floors, I said to Sam, "The stairwell's
blocked past L5."

"I know, I know," Sam said.  "We'll cross over on L5, I've been through
there already."

We went through the door marked L5, and once again I was met with the
unpleasantness of a poorly lit floor.  Only one hallway in front of us was
lit up, and this was the one Sam led us down.  Smoke hung in the air, and
those red lights were blinking, together giving this floor an orange tint.

I stopped briefly as I realized what floor we were on, letting Case pass
me.  This was the floor with all the meeting rooms.  West had given a
lecture to me in a nearby room.  As I walked forward, I realized that we
were in the very spot where I had kissed Maxwell.  Soon we would be passing
the professor's office.  All of these painful memories assaulted me.

I tried not to think about it.  Case and Sam were up ahead quite a distance
in front of me, and I walked forward to try and catch up.  When I was about
to come to the place where the professor's office was, I purposely turned
my head the other way.

I heard a moan.  I had to look.  I turned my head and saw that the
professor's office door was wide open.  There, rolling around on the floor,
with his head and shoulders outside of his office and out in the hall, was
the professor.

He moaned again, clearly in pain.  His face was covered with soot and
sweat.  His legs, I could see, were injured and bleeding.  He was unable to
walk.  But his upper body seemed unharmed.  With assistance, he could get
out of here and he could live.

He opened his eyes and looked up at me.  "Bradley," he stammered, coughing
from the smoke.  "Bradley I need your help."

I thought for a moment about everything that had transpired between us in
that now ruined office.  Emotions raged through me.  I looked down at him
as he grabbed a hold of my shoe.

"Please, Bradley.  Help an old man out here."

I looked at his face looking pleadingly at me.

And then I looked forward, down the hall.  I shook his hand from my foot
and kept on walking.

"Bradley, please don't leave me!" he shouted desperately.

I started to run.  I couldn't see Sam anymore.  I needed to be with Sam
again.

I turned a corner and there Sam was.  There they both were.

We walked on.

We reached the north stairwell and started to run down the stairs.  "We
don't have much time left," Sam said, his voice amazingly calm.

"It's straight down from here," I said.  "Six stories down."

After we had run down the first story, Case grunted.  "We'll never make it
at this speed," he said.  "Your bitch is too slow!"

Sam stopped suddenly, considering.  Suddenly his wings came out from behind
him.  Without warning, he picked me up from behind, gripping me under the
shoulders.

We started to glide down the stairs then, moving much quicker than before.
"You should have thought of this sooner!" I yelled back at him.

Underneath us, the wolf ran at his top speed, matching our pace.

We reached the bottom level in no time, and Sam put me down.  "This way," I
said, taking off at a run into The Red's apartment.

It was just as we left it, lights on and everything.

"Where is this supposed exit?" Case asked behind me.

"Over here," I yelled as I ran through the entry way with the double
staircases and into the great room.

"The fireplace!" I cried.  "Over there!"

"How do you know that's the way out?" asked Case.

"When I saw it before, I didn't think anything of it," I said.  "But this
is an underground building."

"There could not be a chimney down here," Sam said.  "Where would the smoke
go?"

"Right," I said, actually running into the giant stone fireplace.  I looked
up and the closed flue, pulled down the handle.

With a creak, the flue opened.  Damn right, the hole above me was big
enough for a person to fit through.  Peering up into it, I couldn't see the
end of the hole, it just disappeared into blackness.

But there was one tell-tale sign that my hunch had been correct.

"A ladder!" I cried happily.

The bottom rung of a metal ladder was in the hole above me, and I could see
more rungs leading upwards above it.

"Praise the Lord!" Sam exclaimed behind me.

I jumped for the rung, but missed it.  I jumped again, and missed it again.

"Let me assist you here," Sam said.

He lifted me up by the waist, and I put my hands on the bottom rung.  "I
got it!" I said.  "Just push me up!"

Sam pushed up on my feet as I grabbed the next rung up, then the next one,
and finally placed my foot on the bottom rung.

I started on my way up, moving into the dark hole above me as Sam started
climbing up beneath me and Case beneath him.

We climbed and we climbed until we were climbing in total darkness, me
feeling carefully for every rung above me.

"This better not lead to a dead end," Case said.

"It couldn't," I told him, still climbing up.

We climbed further.  "We must have gone a dozen stories by now," Case said.

"I don't think quite yet that many," Sam said.

We kept on climbing, my arm muscles getting seriously tired, until, quite
surprisingly, I hit my head.

I was moving up so fast at the time that I really hit it hard, and almost
fell off the ladder.

Sam reached up to steady me.  "You okay?" he asked.

"Fuck yeah!"  I yelled excitedly as I felt a cold metal plate above me.  It
seemed movable.  "We're at the top, boys!"

I pushed with all of the strength left in my arms against the metal above
me.  Finally it gave.

I had been pushing on a metal disc, a sort of manhole cover, and I heaved
it upwards and to the side.

Suddenly I realized why the disc had seemed so heavy.  Snow had been piled
up upon it, and now all of that snow poured on top of us.

It hit me so hard, it ripped me away from the ladder.  Thank God Sam was
there to catch me.  "I got you," he said.

He pushed me up, and I dug through the snow above me.  I could see light up
there through the snow.

I breached the top of the snow, my head popping totally out of the hole
into the night outside.  I reached up and pulled myself onto the snowy
ground.

"It worked!"  I yelled excitedly, rolling in the snow no matter how cold it
was out here.  "It fucking worked!"

Sam was climbing out of the hole behind me.  "Looks like we're in the park
above the base," he said, looking around.

Case climbed out easily and put the metal disc back over the hole.  "Come
on," he said, starting to run off through the park.  "The others."

I got to my feet.  "Sam can just telepathically tell the angels how to get
everyone out through here!" I yelled.

"There isn't enough time for them to get through the base," Sam told me.
"It's about to blow."

He started to run after Case, and I dutifully followed behind.  "Maybe
they've already dug themselves out!"  I suggested, my breath creating
clouds in front of me in this freezing air.  I was already starting to
shiver.

"No, they aren't out," Sam told me.

Sam and Case ran as fast as they could towards the base entrance, and I
followed at my strongest pace.  I left the little park, and now was
trotting down the sidewalk of some street.  The surroundings were pretty
rural.  No buildings around, and the street was totally deserted

A small road veered off from the main street and descended into the
entrance of an underground structure.  This is where Sam and Case had run
through, and I knew it was the other side of the base entrance.

I ran into the structure, coming to a security point in which five armed
soldiers lay dead.  They had been the first to die tonight, I realized.

I ran past them and down the ramp.  Soon I had come to the other end of the
cave in.  Rock and debris lay ahead, completely blocking the way.  Case and
Sam were digging frantically, Case now transformed again into his beastly
form.

I ran to join them, and started to dig as well.  "How much time do we
have?" I asked Sam.

"Under a minute," he replied.  "They're digging on the other side.  They've
already made a huge amount of progress.  I don't think there's that much
further to go."

"Well, let's get them the fuck outta there then," I said.

We dug into the dirt as hard as we could.  When Sam announced just thirty
seconds were left, there was still no sign of them.

"Fifteen seconds left," Sam said.  "Bradley, we've got to get you back."

Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me up the ramp.  I let him take me back,
knowing that we had no idea how powerful this explosion would be.

Case wasn't leaving.  He was still standing strong, digging.

BOOM!!

The explosion was different than the one I had experienced just minutes
before.  This one was a deep bass rumble, shaking me to the very bone as I
clutched my hands over my ears.  I never saw any flames.  Instead, it
seemed to have more the effect of an earthquake.  The ground shook hard
enough to make me lose my balance and fall over, and from somewhere I could
what sounded like rock cracking open and dirt sinking.

I looked over at the park that we had just walked through, what I realized
now was the top of the base.  The ground there had collapsed and sunk a
good ten feet down.  Snow, trees, dirt, and concrete were all mixed
together in the mess.

"Sam, I think I've seen enough explosions for one night," I said.

"I think we all have, Bradley."

I glanced back down the ramp.  Case had been knocked over during the
explosion, but now he was up again digging at the dirt barrier that still
blocked the way forward.

I ran down towards him to try and help.

"Where are you headed?" Sam asked, following me close.

"To help," I said simply.

As I started to dig alongside Case, Sam approached us, shaking his head.
"It's no use," he said to Case.  "All your wolves are dead."

The beast turned to face Sam and growled angrily, clearly not choosing to
trust him.  He turned back to his digging while I gave up.

Surprisingly, it didn't take that much longer for Case to break through the
dirt wall.  Once he had carved through a little hole, a foul smelling smoke
poured out of it.  But the progress energized Case further.  He dug until
he had made a hole large enough for his beast form to walk through.

Case went into the hole, and Sam followed him in.  Of course I followed as
well.

Stepping through the hole into what was left of the garage, I realized
there could have been no way anyone survived in here.  The space that was
passable was just about ten feet deep, and then the rubble completely
covered everything.  The once concrete structure now looked like little
more than a dirt cave.

Case pushed aside rocks and debris.  He uncovered what looked to be charred
wolf remains.  The more he dug the more of his dead wolves he found.

Finally, Case transformed back into a naked man and glared in Sam's
direction, huffing smoke.  "They're all dead."

"As I tried to tell you," Sam said.

Case moved to his left, then to his right, keeping his eyes locked on Sam.
"You're responsible for the death of all these wolves.  This was your plan
gone bad.  None of these wolves volunteered to be here!"

Sam said nothing.

"Tell me why I shouldn't fight you right here?" challenged Case.

"Because if you fight me, I'll win," Sam said simply and honeslty.  "And
I'll kill you."

Case angrily store at Sam for a moment longer.  Then he left the hole,
retrieved his shades, and ran off into the street buck ass naked.

Sam gasped and turned towards the rubble.  "Wait," he said, looking around.
"There is a survivor here.  Barely alive."  He walked around the rubble,
looking carefully.  "Here," he said, finally picking out a spot and digging
like mad.

He was digging through so much dirt that I doubted if he was right about
this survivor.  Then he hit rock, and I was sure he was at least digging in
the wrong place.

He kept on uncovering more and more of this rock, and I wondered what the
hell he thought he was doing.

I almost jumped as I saw the rock move.

"An angel," I said, astounded.

"Yes," Sam said.  "He's the only one left alive.  The only one of them that
was clever enough to think of turning to stone before the blast went off.
Help me get him out."

I kneeled down by Sam's side, digging along with him.  I realized soon that
Sam had been working on one of the legs, a marble-white, smooth stone leg
that was now moving around on its own.

We uncovered that leg completely and started on the other leg.  When his
entire lower body had been uncovered, Sam grabbed both of the marble ankles
and pulled as hard as he could.

The guy's upper body slid out of the dirt, up to his neck.

Sam heaved again, and his head was totally free.

"It's Luke..." I said, amazed at his now stone face.  His once bright red
hair and lips were now just as white as the rest of him.

"Yes," said Sam.  Of course he had known that as soon as he had been in
psychic contact with him.

Luke stood up, his blue eyes so oddly colorful in comparison to the pale
stone of his body.  He looked around, his mouth agape, completely in awe.

"Let's get out of this hole," Sam said, pushing Luke out back onto the firm
ground of the ramp.  I followed him through.

Outside, there was so much more light.  Luke remained, trance-like, as Sam
kneeled down and, starting with his feet, started to brush the dirt off the
guy.

"You'll feel better when you're cleaned up," he told Luke in a soothing
tone of voice.

As he cleared away the dirt from Luke's crotch area, I realized that he had
lost his clothing.  His large angel dick was as stone as the rest of him.
I could tell by the shape and size of the thing that he was totally
flaccid, yet realized that if your dick's made of stone, it can't really be
flaccid in any form.  I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

Sam kept on brushing of dirt.  He got to his torso, and was working hard to
scrub off a particularly large chunk of dirt which covered his left side.

Sam pressed his hand hard into Luke's left side, pushing against the dirt,
and somehow, Sam's hand went right fucking through the guy's body.

Sam gasped as he looked at Luke's torso.  "My God, Luke..."

He wiped away more and more dirt until all that was left was stone.  My
mouth dropped agape as I registered what I was seeing.

Luke was missing a whole huge piece of his body.  Starting at his navel, a
huge crack was carved out of his left side.  From his navel, the cut
traveled more or less diagonally upwards, ending at just under his
shoulder.

Most of the guy's left pec was totally gone, as was the left half of his
torso.  Gazing at where his left half should have been, I was able to look
right through him.  It was amazing his left arm remained undamaged.

Seeing the looks on our faces, Luke's glazed eyes slowly looked down at his
own body.  Very gradually, the blank shock on his face transformed into a
look of absolute horror.  He started to half moan, half cry out as he
looked at himself and shook violently.

His blue eyes, the only part of himself that still looked alive, misted
with tears.  He took a step back and started to feel with his stone hands
the scope of the wound, feeling the hard stone on the inside of his cavity
with disgust.

Finally, his eyes burned red with anger as he pointed at Sam.  "You did
this to me!" he shouted.  "You left me in there to die!"

"No, I would never," Sam told him.

"He was the one who dug you out of there!" I yelled at Luke.

"I would have dug myself out eventually!" Luke yelled right back at me in a
much more vicious tone of voice than I had used.  He looked back at Sam.
"What's going to happen to me, Sam.  What can you do to help me."

Sam shook his head.  "Luke, I'm sorry," he said.

"Goddamn you!" Luke shouted at him.

"There's nothing that I or anyone else can do!" Sam said.

"No.  No."  Luke paced back and forth, shaking his head stubbornly,
unwilling to believe.

"You've lost your internal organs, Luke," Sam said.  "I'm sorry.  As soon
as you turn back into flesh, you'll die."

"I just won't change back!" Luke insisted.

"You might be able to stay that way for the rest of the night," Sam said.
"Once morning comes, you won't have the energy to hold it any longer."

"No," Luke said over and over again, looking down at his feet.  "No."

"I'm sorry, Luke."  Sam came over and put a hand on the angel's stone
shoulder.  "I'll stay with you until the end.  I'll make it as comfortable
as I can for you."

Luke shook Sam's hand off of him.  "Get off me.  Don't you know that I
blame you entirely for this?  Come along to America, you told me.  It will
be a simple mission, you said.  When it was over they'd have proof how
valuable I was, you promised.  Well fuck all of your assurances.  I knew
this mission wasn't the cakewalk you promised as soon as Deepak was fucking
shot in the head!"

"I'm sorry about Deepak," Sam said.  "Truly I am.  But-"

"And now, because you were blind enough to trust the demons' words, I have
a fucking hole in my chest!"

"Indeed, I miscalculated the demons' intentions, I admit that," Sam said.
"When you live among beings who never lie, when you can tell if most others
are lying through telepathy, its difficult to recognize the lies of beings
who you cannot read.  But I refuse to take full responsibility for your
death.  I never ordered you into danger.  You made all the bad choices on
your own."

"Goddamnit, Sam!"  Luke shouted louder than ever.  "Can't you see that
because of you I am literally missing my fucking heart!"

Sam reached out for him again.  "Luke, come back to the plane with me."

Luke shook him off again.  "Nope.  Uh-uh.  No goddamn way."  He turned away
from us and just started to walk.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked him.

"As far away from you as my cripple self can possibly travel."

"You have nowhere to go!" Sam protested, following Luke.

Luke turned around and pushed Sam back, hard.  "Stay the fuck away from
me!"  He turned and just ran off into the darkness.  He ran over a hill and
I lost sight of him immediately.

"Are you gonna follow him?" I asked Sam.

Sam looked at the hill he had just disappeared over, and shook his head.
"No," he said sadly.  "He can easily lose me if he doesn't want to be
found.  Poor, poor soul.  What a horrible fate he faces."  He sighed
deeply.

"When he turned into stone," I said, "he looked just like you.  Made out of
white marble, I mean."

"Yes, well, that would be logical," Sam said.  "I was the one who taught
him to transform."  Sam took another long, mournful look at the hillside.
Then he turned to face me.  "Come on.  Let's get off this forsaken ground."

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"We'll fly to our plane," he said.  "Get on my back."

He spun around and brought out his wings.  I jumped on behind him, wrapping
my arms around his neck.

The armor wasn't exactly making the flight a comfortable one for me, but it
was only a short distance.

Sam brought us down in a snowy airfield.  A familiar plane was parked in
front of us.

"One of the Cherubim planes," I said.

"Indeed," Sam said as he led me towards it.

"How come you didn't bring the Cathedral plane?" I asked.

"Because I was taking five Cherubim warriors with me," he explained, "as
well as a Cherubim lower level Dominion, for organizational purposes.
We'll fly from here to the Ensis in Moscow.  Then we'll board the Cathedral
plane, and will be taken back home."

The door to the jet opened up before we had even reached the stairs, and
that idiot steward Ronnie appeared, still wearing his ridiculous costume.

"My liege," he said cheerfully.  "And I remember you, Brad.  How did it
go?"

Sam answered him as we boarded the plane.  Inside, the full staff of
Thrones and their Delectors were nearby.  "Badly," Sam said.

An angel who looked sort of secretarial, with a sharp suit, trimmed hair,
and a clipboard in his arm, clicked off his cell phone and came up to Sam.
"You didn't destroy your target, my liege?" asked this angel who I figured
was the Dominion Sam had mentioned bringing along.

"No, we succeeded on that account," Sam told him.  "But we were betrayed by
the demons.  Four of my Powers died.  Luke, the Throne, is fatally wounded,
and is wandering around out there in his stone form, half delirious.  I'd
say that would count as a failure."  He sighed sadly.  "What have you heard
about the rest of the attacks?" Sam asked the Dominion.

"All of the Bridge bases worldwide have been destroyed.  Police are already
starting to investigate, and reporters are on the scene."

"Casualties?" asked Sam.

"All of the attack squads composed entirely of angels came through mostly
unscathed," he answered.  "The angels who were in collaboration with demons
were less fortunate."

"And the Seraphim?" asked Sam.  "Were any of them hurt?"

"Not a one," the Dominion said.

Sam sighed in relief.  "Thank God for that."

"All and all," the Dominion said, "this venture is already being hailed as
an enormous success.  Something they largely attribute to your cunning and
bold decision-making."

Sam laughed.  "I wish I could say that was comforting."

"What now, my liege?" the Dominion asked.  "Shall we take off for Moscow?"

"No," Sam said.  "Give me till morning.  I'm going to go back out there,
search as far as I can for Luke.  No one should have to go through what
he's going through alone.  I'll be back before sunrise."

"As you wish, my liege," the Dominion said.  "I'll report to the others of
our status."  He flipped open his phone.

"Should I go with you?" I asked Sam as he made for the door.

"No," he said.  "I'll move faster without you.  And it's freezing cold out
there.  Stay here and wait for me.  Have Ronnie show you to our bedroom."

"Yes, my liege, it would be my pleasure," Ronnie said behind me.

"Good luck," I said to Sam as he left.

Ronnie took me to my room without much interaction.  It seemed he was down
about the angels they had lost, and wasn't much in the mood for chatting.

When I got to our shared bedroom, I found Sam had a contingent of clothes
waiting for me.  He had brought everything I had left in his LA apartment.
Thankful, I changed out of my filthy clothes, showered all the layers of
grime and soot and gunk off of me, and got into bed naked.  I tried to wait
until Sam returned to go to sleep, but I was so exhausted I could not keep
myself from drifting off.

I didn't wake up again until I felt Sam getting into bed.  He had
thankfully removed his armor, now that we were in the privacy of our room,
and he was as naked as I was.

"Did you find Luke?" I asked sleepily as Sam took me in his arms.

"No," he said with a distant regret.  "I searched as long as I could.
Morning comes soon, and with it, I hope he finds peace."

After a moment, I told him, "You know, it's not your fault what happened to
him.  Or what happened to any of them.  The demons screwed all of us over.
It couldn't have been helped."

"I suppose, deep down, I know you're right," he said.  "But my grief isn't
rooted in guilt, Brad.  I grieve for what was lost tonight."

I felt that the plane was moving.  We were starting to take off.

"At least you found me tonight," I said.  "That's something, isn't it?"

Sam laughed pleasantly, and wiped my cheek gently with his thumb.  "That is
my greatest gift of all."  He pulled me closer into him.  "When we attacked
that base tonight, I knew that you had to be inside.  Yet, as soon as I
went through the doors, I felt something was very wrong.  I should have
been able to feel your presence almost immediately.  To hear your every
thought as usual.  Even if you had been asleep or unconscious, I should
have felt you.  I should have known where you were, and if you were
alright."  He shook his head.  "When I walked in those doors, I felt
nothing.  Horrible thoughts passed through my mind.  My optimism hoped you
had somehow left the base before that time.  That you were safe somewhere
else."  He shuffled unpleasantly in bed.  "My cynicism convinced me that
the most logical answer was that you were already dead.  A victim of our
physical separation."

The plane was completely in the air by that point.

"My God," I said.  "You didn't know."

He looked me in the eye.  "I combed through that base for you in any case.
It wasn't until I was right on top of you that I could feel your presence.
But that was all I could feel.  I could no longer read your mind."

I had completely forgotten that I had learned to shield my thoughts and
that my shield had been up this whole time.  "So, you can't read my
thoughts right now?" I asked.

"No," he said.  "Not since I came to visit you last in the LA base."

"You can't read my history or anything?" I asked just to be certain.

He ran his hand through my scalp.  "No history.  No thoughts.  All I can
read from you is your presence.  Who you are and that you are the Eversor.
That is all I'm able to see."

I laughed.  "I had forgotten all about that," I told him.  "A couple days
ago they did something to me.  With electroshock.  They activated one of my
powers, I guess.  Called it a psychic shield.  I had forgotten it was even
there.  It feels no different for me."

"Well," Sam said to me, "to me there is a world of difference.  Every time
before when I've held you close to me, I was acutely aware that you weren't
just touching me with your body.  Your mind would touch me as well."  He
readjusted himself so that the whole front of our two bodies were pressed
firmly into each other.  "You feel how our bodies are so close, they are
practically one being?" he asked.

"Yeah..."

"For me, it was the always the exact same sensation with our minds," Sam
said.  "I could feel your mind so intimately, sometimes it felt like I was
as much you as I was myself.  It was an intimacy that only angels can
really understand the power of.  I knew every part of you completely, and I
was totally accepting.  When you were gone, I felt less whole.  I was
completely accustomed to your psyche.  To an angel, that's what it really
means to be a Domno.  We know that's the truest pleasure in the whole
affair."

His words were so genuine and beautiful; it only made me love him more.  It
made me want to shed this shield as quickly as possible and let him inside
once more, let him experience this true intimacy.

He kissed me lightly on the cheek.  "Angels have psychic shields of our
own," he told me.  "I'm sure yours works in the exactly same way."

I looked away, remembering how Maxwell had told me that this was true, that
my shield worked just like an angel's.

"I just need to teach you how to turn it off," Sam said to me.  "Or at
least let me through.  It's not hard to learn."

No, it wasn't.  In fact, I was almost certain I knew exactly how to do it,
and my first thought was to simply let him through.

But something stopped me before I did it.  For the first time tonight, I
looked back at everything that had happened to me in that base and
everything that I'd done.

If I let Sam through the shield, then he would know everything as well.  He
would know that as I grew desperate for his cum, I tried to find a
substitute.  He'd know how I kissed Maxwell and threw myself at White in
the shower.  He'd know that I sucked off an old desperate man to orgasm.
Would he be able to forgive me for betraying him sexually?

Though, it wasn't just sexually, I reminded myself.  At then end, when I
had gotten confused and frantic, when I had been certain I was going to
die, I betrayed the whole angel flock to the Bridge.  I had told the evil
agents all of the information I could give.  Would Sam be able to forgive
me for betraying his whole kind?

I couldn't answer that question.  I thought, perhaps if Sam knew that it
was just a moment of weakness on my part, that it would lead him to forgive
me.  He had forgiven me before.

But before my betrayals had been minor.  Insubordination.  Lying.  Sam had
forgiven me for breaking those vows even when other Domnos would not have
been so kind.  This time, my betrayal had been infinitely more serious, and
I considered it infinitely more likely that Sam would not be able to
forgive me.

Even if Sam somehow did find a way to forgive me, that still wouldn't
protect me from the other angels.  I had betrayed Sam in a major way this
time, and that might have been enough for the angels to kill me.  I'm sure
Faith would think so.  But this time, I wasn't just Sam.  I had betrayed
everyone.  And therefore Sam would not be able to protect me when they
sought vengeance.

I was certain, then.  This shield would be the only thing that would keep
me alive from there on out.

"You're awful thoughtful tonight," Sam told me.  "Tell me what's causing
you to brood so."

I looked him in the eye.  "Not thoughtful," I said.  "Sad."

He seemed concerned.  "See?  Before I wouldn't have ever misread your
emotions.  I would have already known you were unhappy, and I would have
known what you were unhappy about.  But now, I must ask.  What is it?"

I shook my head and looked away from him.  "I'm sad because..." I almost
could not finish.  "I'm sad because when they activated the psychic shield,
they told me something important.  They told me that I wouldn't be able to
turn it on or off at will or let certain things through like the angels
can.  They said that once it was up, it was up.  That as long as I would
live, it would never budge."

Sam paused for a long while.  Then he gripped my shoulder hard and looked
straight into my eyes.  "Tell me you are certain this is true."

The way he was looking at me, with intensity, piercing, I was almost sure
he could see through my lies.  "I am certain," I said to him anyway.

He looked at me still, and I wondered if he believed me.  Then tears
started to mist in his eyes, just barely.  After a moment he smiled his
beautiful smile.  "This is very hard for me," he said, his voice losing
most of its usual strength.

I could only imagine at the odd sort of loss he must have been feeling
right then, as I had never read anyone's mind in my life.  But I still felt
damn lousy for him, knowing somehow how serious of a loss this was.  I
imagined that it would be as if he suddenly told me that we could never see
each other again.  That from now on we'd have to have our relationship over
the phone.  I would have been hysterically pissed off.

"I'm sorry," I said, sure I was about to start to cry.

Whatever Sam was feeling then, and I'm sure he was feeling much, he quickly
bottled it up for my own sake.  He put his hand on my cheek, choked back
those tears in his eyes that had never actually materialized, and smiled
his biggest, happiest smile.

"Don't think on it," he said.  "Nothing has changed for you.  For me,
things have changed, yes, but I don't want you to worry.  I have no doubt
that I love you entirely, and will always want to be with you.  If I can no
longer read your mind, then I will just have to learn how to be a lover the
old fashioned way.  By talking.  Oral communication.  We will talk often,
and never lose our patience, our desire and our respect for one another.
In this manner we will remain completely in love until the end."

I smiled at him, and he kissed me, a gentle loving kiss that seemed to
pulse with his love for me, a love I swore I would never doubt.

When he broke the kiss, he yawned.  "Now, it is morning.  The first morning
in too long that I am blessed with the comfort of you in my bed.  I am fast
falling asleep.  But before I let myself go, I want to know something.  And
since I can no longer pull it from your mind, I want you to tell me."

I was worried what exactly he wanted to know.  Did he suspect something
after all?  Was I that a transparent liar?  "What is it?" I asked
hesitantly.

"Tell me this," he said.  "Are you still feeling sad?"

I laughed.  "No, man," I told him.  "I couldn't be happier."

Don't believe it, Sam.

But he only smiled at me, completely deaf now to my thoughts.

"Hmmph.  That's exactly what I wanted to hear.  Goodnight."  He kissed me
finally on the forehead and shut his eyes.

"Goodnight," I told him.

He was completely out of it in a few seconds, lost in that hard sleep he
went to every day of his life.

I buried my face into his shoulder and started to cry freely.  I had lied
just then.  I was not happy, I was desperately upset.

The fact that he couldn't, for once, call me on my lie made me more upset.

I thought it sort of funny that just a moment ago I wondered if I was a bad
liar.  No, obviously I was a fucking terrific liar.  Sam had said that
himself once, hadn't he?

The knowledge that I could never again be truly intimate with Sam ripped
through to my heart.

I pressed my skin eagerly against his, but even his touch could not soothe
my wounds tonight.

I suppose in some way I was blessed with my skill for deception.  Because
from now on, my entire life would be a lie.  Even to Sam.  Especially to
Sam.

Honesty had become an impossibility.  A pipe dream.

And it would remain that way until the day I died.


TO BE CONTINUED