It had been an hour since Andy had arrived with Doty. Doty had explained that he was a new addition to his team, and that he was to replace Agent Bionic. Johnson had taken Doty aside and had been discussing with him for the past forty-five minutes. Andy hadn’t been of much more help.
Bionic held back his confused anger, and had confidence Johnson would talk Doty out of this.
Finally, the two men came out to the rest of the team.
“Agent Bionic, I apologize, but you need to go back to the Florida complex,” Johnson solemnly informed.
Bionic was shocked. Johnson was one of Bionic’s few allies, one of his few friends, until this moment.
And it was all Doty’s fault.
“You better do what he says,” Andy said sadly. He seemed to be struggling internally with himself.
Doty spoke. “I don’t believe he’s listening to you, Agent Johnson. Perhaps you need to make yourself clear. Mark nodded.
Johnson reached toward Bionic’s shoulder. Bionic instinctively grabbed the suited man’s arm and twisted sideways. Johnson grunted in pain. Bionic let go after a moment.
Soon he regretted letting go. Johnson reacted by swinging at Bionic with a left hook. It glazed his hairy chin. Johnson then jabbed with his other hand. Bionic managed to dodge again and shoulder-butted Johnson.
Johnson staggered back into Doty. Then the two suited men decided to double-up on Bionic. Doty punched left and Johnson punched right, each shot aimed at Bionic’s head.
Bionic ducked and left fly two jabs, each one aimed at an agent’s stomach. The shots impacted the tough abs of the men. Even so, the two staggered back. Johnson nearly fell over.
Doty recovered more quickly and gestured or Andy to help. Andy didn’t move. Then the suited man focused his attention back on Bionic. Doty grabbed Bionic’s shoulder to distract him while his other hand went flying at Bionic’s nose.
In turn, Bionic grabbed the arm on his shoulder, twisted his body, and sent the 200-lb Doty flying over his shoulder.
Meanwhile, Johnson attempted to sneak behind Bionic and land a straight-down punch on Bionic’s head to disable him. Bionic elbowed backwards and, once Johnson staggered once more, leapt forward toward the stone wall.
Bionic focused and pulled his arms back. Johnson yelled, “Stop him!” but Bionic managed to maintain his concentration. In a few milliseconds, the wild man’s fists were in front of him and he impacted the wall.
Only to go soaring through it into the night air outside.
Andy watched as the wall fragments settled and Bionic ran away. Johnson ran up and ordered Andy to pursue, but Andy stood frozen.
Angered, Johnson yelled to the intercom for Frink to activate security.
Doty, standing up, yelled, “Johnson, your gun! Hurry, before he gets away!” Doty pulled out his Desert Eagle and ran to the hole.
The two suited men took aim. They both fired warning shots, and they both failed to slow Bionic down.
“Dammit, Frink!” Johnson shouted, “Where is that security.” Frink didn’t respond.
Doty fired, hitting Bionic with a massive bullet, a spurt of blood flew out of Bionic, but he once again did not slow. In a few seconds, the rogue agent jumped over the chain-link fence around the apartment and was off.
Doty holstered his gun and pulled out a cell phone. He called the police and ordered a search of the area. Meanwhile, Ashley walked up the stairs.
“The hell’s going on?” she asked, staring at the man-sized hole in the wall.
“Ashley, go upstairs and get Agent Frink,” Johnson ordered. He seemed pretty unaffected by the fact that he just fired on a member of his team.
Andy, on the other hand, still stood there, staring blankly. Once in a while, he’d scratch an itch somewhere or sniffle, but he didn’t say a word. Johnson didn’t even seem to notice.
Doty hung up. “They’re sending eight patrol cars and a helicopter. Does Frink have him tracked?”
“That why I called him down here,” Johnson answered. At that moment, Frink was treading down the stairs, looking guilty. His eyes were watery and red. Ashley was close behind, her face grim.
“Agent Frink, activate the tracking device on Agent Bionic,” Johnson ordered. The suited man took his shades off.
“N-no!” Frink stammered. Doty, Johnson, and Ashley all stared in shock.
“Agent Frink, do it before I have you court-marshaled for insubordination.”
Frink took a defiant pose. “No . . .” he repeated, his voice strengthening. “I won’t do it.”
Doty turned to Johnson, composed once again. “I believe he’s purposely ignoring orders, Agent Johnson.”
Johnson pulled out a pair of handcuffs and stepped toward Frink. The scientist balled his hands into fists with his thumbs on the inside. Johnson took this as a sign of aggression and chopped Frink on the shoulder, subduing him.
Andy stood vacantly. He was entirely unsure of everything. He could hear police sirens nearby. He looked over at Doty and saw a mild grin across the man’s face.
As Johnson cuffed Frink, he spoke. “There are two types of people in the world, Agent Frink.” He finished securing the feeble man and threw him on the floor. “Us and them.” Then Johnson looked at Andy, as if he had this pre-composed. “And if you’re not one of us, then you’re one of them.”
All remaining eyes were on Andy now. Even little Ashley seemed to be supporting Johnson. Andy looked at the floor in defeat.
Johnson accepted this and walked with Doty out of the room. Once the two agents left, Ashley ran up to Andy and gave him a hug.
***
Former agent Bionic was sprinting down an alley in between two apartment high-rises just north of his former home. A police car zoomed by, unable to see the man in the shadows. Bionic ran past a bum that commented on the rogue’s bleeding wound. Bionic ignored him.
John “Bionic” Pemental needed time to think about this. But he didn’t have it now. All he could do was run. Flee.
But he knew what would happen after this. He be labeled as a fugitive. They’d finally blame his mother’s death on him, and he’d be hunted by every lawmen in the US. But he knew he had more enemies than the police. They’d send those superagents and strike troopers after him. They’d hire bounty hunters or aliens to kill him, or maybe both. Bionic was royally screwed.
As he reached another street, he realized he was near a subway station. Since the Springfield-Chicago-Milwaukee underground line had been completed, he’d be able to ride to a larger city.
But he still had to get to the station.
Bionic walked up to a van that was slowing for a stoplight. He figured he’d rip off the door, kick out the driver, and ride it to the subway. His plan was interrupted by a squad car with its lights turned off.
The car was across the intersection and hit the gas when it saw the rogue agent. Bionic charged the car and leapt over it, denting the hood.
He heard one of the policemen inside yell something to the effect of “We got him!” but he was too busy escaping.
After leaping over another car, Bionic saw one of the old bridges over the Milwaukee River. Maybe if he could make it downtown, he’d be able to escape. So he ran.
As soon as he reached the bridge, however, Bionic noticed a car accident blocking the other end. An overturned semi was apparently on fire, and there were police and medics on the other side. Bionic glanced behind him, and saw the flashing lights of squad cars coming. He even spotted an armored SWAT transport.
Thinking fast, Bionic ducked into the space between two ancient metal warehouses. He looked from side to side for a door, but soon came to a tall chain-link fence blocking his path.
Looking behind him and seeing a squad car, Bionic decided to rip through the barrier. He grabbed two sections and pulled, soon tearing a hole in the fence as if it were fabric.
Bionic jumped through it, gasping for breath. On the other side, he felt the bullet Doty shot into him being pushed out of his body. Good. If he got rid of that handicap, he could probably jump into the freezing river.
Unfortunately, John ‘Bionic” Pemental’s hopes were dashed when he heard the distinctive chopping noise of the police helicopter above him. Soon, its flood light was on him. John dodged out of the alleyway and looked for cover. He didn’t see any except a grated metal awning but he did notice a service bridge going across the river.
In a few moments, cops poured in through the alley, lights blaring. John made a mad dash for the rotting wooden bridge. He was halfway across it before he noticed a gaping hole near the opposite side.
Unsurprised, Pemental leapt over the last few feet, barely dodging a bullet illegally fired by an officer. Too bad John couldn’t report it.
Once he was on the other side, John remembered that he still had no way out and the helicopter still had its light trained on him. Thinking quickly, John felt around in his pocket for the green stone.
It was his only hope of escaping.
Finding it, he looked for an exit. Cops were behind him and soon would be surrounding him. He decided to run down Michigan street and look for something. A car nearly hit him, but it did cause other traffic to swerve and cut off John from the police.
Pemental raced down the sidewalk, ignoring the late-night pedestrians and tired men working newspaper stands. The police helicopter had lost him, but John heard a softer whoosh-whoosh of another helicopter.
John turned down another street, this one on a slight hill. At the bottom of the incline, he saw his exit. A short, brick office building with a giant glass mirror on its facade. He could easily make it.
Then the squeal of a semi-truck hitting its brakes alerted John that something was wrong. The rogue man looked over and saw a polish black steel 18-wheeler coming down an intersecting street. In its driver’s seat was a man in a black suit and shades. The driver touched an earpiece and then revved the engine, taking aim at the mirror on the building.
John realized what was going to happen and raced. He had to leap over a pickup and push a Syrian man out of his way, but Pemental reached the mirror first. He dug his hand into his pocket, clenched his fist around the rock, and launched himself at the mirror just as the sleek truck rammed into the glass, shattering it and sending shards and bricks everywhere.
In a few moments, the driver slowly backed up and exited. He looked up in the sky at the black helicopter hovering above them. Then he pulled a stainless steel control out of his breast pocket and pushed a button. The back of the semi’s trailer opened and out poured a few more Men in Black as well as a cadre of strike troopers. One of the Men in Black approached the driver.
“Our superiors want a progress report,” the man informed in monotone.
The driver drew back the ends of his mouth and surveyed the wreckage. After a moment, he straightened his necktie and emotionlessly replied, “Tell them that the subject has escaped. He still poses a major risk. We’ll need to track him.”
The other electronically replied, “It will be done.”
“They’ll be done,” whispered Ramo the assassin as he stood up and brushed himself off. He had been tracking these escapades all night, and knew that he didn’t have to worry about Agent Pemental anymore. Now he could focus his attention on the rest of Team 13.
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