Boom! The ground beneath the four combatants suddenly shivered and undulated like a snake. A sudden whoosh of dust and hot air came roaring out of the tunnel from the lair.
Death fell forward to the ground and Firststrike was slammed onto his back hard. War fell off of Lastshot and, suddenly, the Exceptional had a chance to breathe again.
The ceiling of the hangar chamber started to rain debris as the shockwave from the headquarters explosion rippled through the rock of the mountainside. Death forced himself to his feet again and moved forward to try and stomp on the fallen Firststrike.
The one-eyed Exceptional could do little but cover up and try and protect his vitals as the massive criminal slammed his booted feet again and again into his sides, literally kicking him across the floor.
Lastshot had made it to his feet and set himself for another onslaught from War. The Horsemen's leader was more cautious now and, rather than charge in, he circled looking for an opening. That allowed Lastshot to see Firststrike's plight and he acted.
The Exceptional team leader stooped, picked up a fist-sized rock and straightened in one smooth move. He hefted the rock and decided it was just what he wanted.
"You think that's gonna make any kind of difference on me?” War sneered.
"Hell, no, boy,” Lastshot said. “You're too damn tough for this.” He suddenly spun and yelled “Death!” at the top of his lungs.
Death turned his head fractionally, reacting to his name and Lastshot fired the rock straight into the cyborg's face. The crack of the rock breaking his nose sounded like an over the fence home run. This caused the criminal to stumble back and it was enough to allow Firststrike to roll to his feet.
The moment the rock was thrown, War attacked. He drove forward with his fists leading and launched a combination intended to overwhelm Lastshot. The Exceptional took the blows on his shoulder, pumped his system with the maximum adrenaline and snapped around in a low back kick. He fired his left heel straight back so that it connected with War's right knee and, despite the armored reinforcement of the joint, broke it with a sickening snap.
War screamed and fell to the ground, unable to function from the massive level of pain.
Lastshot took nothing for granted, though, and stepped in to deliver a merciful roundhouse kick to War's temple, which knocked the man out cold.
Firststrike took advantage of Death's momentary disorientation from the broken nose to step in and throw a ridge hand strike to the behemoth's throat. This caused him to gag and hunch forward, grabbing his neck. Firststrike stepped in and executed a textbook hip throw that slammed the giant to the ground with a force that almost rivaled the explosion's force wave. Death was out cold and down for the count.
Lastshot and Firststrike staggered over to the side of the hover-car and leaned on the side of it, their muscles turning to jello with post action fatigue.
"Thanks for the save,” Firststrike said. He leaned forward with his hands on his thighs and worked to move his breath to a slow even rhythm.
"You would have done the same for me,” Lastshot said. His voice was a hoarse whisper, a reminder of how close he had come to succumbing to War's choke.
"Are you so sure?” Firststrike asked. He looked up at the other Exceptional.
"Yeah,” Lastshot said with a smile. “I'm sure, Jase."
Firststrike smiled back grimly and shook his head. “You know, you throw like a girl."
Lastshot almost choked laughing.
"A really big tough girl."
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Within minutes, The Bodyguard's hover-car was zooming back to the Horsemen's Headquarters. Firststrike and Lastshot had contacted the team with the radio in the Four Horseman's hover. The Bodyguard was able to land in the hangar and pick up the criminals and their teammates.
They didn't dare dally because the entire complex was still exploding in a chain reaction series of fireballs that sent debris and flaming matter in all directions, some of it slamming into the hover-car.
"My back plates have been singed!” LAVERNE complained.
"Shouldn't someone say something in typical heroic fashion to close this adventure?” Temper said.
"Not much to be happy about,” Lastshot said. “We got caught with our pants down, the bad guys almost got away, and we took a beating."
Skorpion smiled. “Other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?"
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Epilogue
The Bodyguard were all seated in the ready room, reviewing police paperwork for the after-action report on The Four Horsemen Incident. The entire Bodyguard had agreed that the initial three members, Firststrike, Lastshot and Temper were on a ‘training’ mission at cross-country navigation when the four criminals had ambushed them. They had still not decided how much of what they had discovered in Quantico they were going to disclose.
No one was speaking.
The door to the ready room suddenly opened and The Veteran walked in, un-announced as usual.
"What a lively bunch you are,” the old warrior said. He walked up to Lastshot and handed him a small piece of paper.
"What's this?” Lastshot asked before he looked down to read it. Regen had healed most of Lastshot's injuries, but he still had a bandage across his nose.
"It's the bill for damages to LAVERNE,” The Veteran said.
"How much to scrap the whole thing?” Matthew said under his breath.
"I heard that, Son, and I resent it.” He turned to Lastshot and Firststrike. “So, are you guys okay with this clone thing, now, or what?"
"I've had a lot of time to think about it all,” Lastshot said. “What exactly it is that makes any of us human? And I don't think there's one answer. Is humane behavior humanity? Are we less human with wooden legs, or false teeth? Are we the sum of our deeds or our hopes?"
He looked around at the other Exceptionals that he called friends. “So to answer you, yes, I'm okay with it—then I don't have a choice; I'm not into ritual suicide—that thing in Cambodia not withstanding.” He looked over at Jason Stryker. “You'd better ask him."
The Veteran perched on the conference table and leaned down to look Firststrike in his good eye. Goldstrike was busy making drawings of The Veteran on the back of one of his police reports. He had done the old warrior in a metal walker with fifty caliber machineguns mounted on them. When The Veteran saw this, he smacked Matthew on the head.
"Well, sonny?” the old warrior addressed Firststrike.
"I'm as okay as I'm going to be with it,” Firststrike said. “A replacement still isn't the real thing."
"Boy, I'm ninety-four percent replacement parts!” the old Exceptional said. Now, he stood up and walked around the table to take in all of them with his pronouncement. “Sure as shootin', I wasn't born that way! So, by your definition, I ain't exactly human.” He looked at Temper and grinned. “Fine with me; everything works better now, and is under warranty."
"Don't the Japanese miniaturize everything?” The Nisei Exceptional leaned her chin on her hands and smiled mischievously at the Veteran.
He winked at her. “Thank God they built that to American scale.” She saluted and he laughed.
He turned to Firststrike again. “Come on, son, you're only making this rough on yourself."
Firststrike looked at him, then stood up and walked around the table to Lastshot.
"Whoever or whatever you are,” Jason Stryker said to his friend. “I'm glad to know you."
He held out his hand.
Conner Le'Schott stood up and shook the hand of his friend and teammate.
"And I'm proud to know you, Jason. And to trust my back to you."
The New York Exceptional team, The Bodyguard all smiled. For the moment, they were all whole and ready for whatever the world would throw at them.
"Hey guys,” Goldstrike said. “Let's call out for pizza!"
Just then the alert signal sounded from the room's speakers. “Alert, Alert!” the mechanical voice said. “Cap
tain Mephisto has escaped from federal custody and taken hostages near Fort Dix New Jersey: Bodyguard assistance has been requested."
"Okay team,” Lastshot said with pride in his voice. “Let's do what they pay us for."
"Can we get pizza on the way?” Goldstrike asked.
It, indeed, was not a world anyone wanted, but it was the only world they had and they would make the best of it, or die trying. As many times as it took.
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Afterword
The book you hold is a history of a tomorrow we hope we will never have to live in.
It is set in a world where rampant violence and the growing evil of extremists rally the forces of the law to create an entire class of crime fighters: bio-enhanced bounty hunters empowered by the United Nations to pursue their criminal counterparts wherever they might strike.
These stories began as a film idea of mine, and then a television series created with my friend and collaborator Jerry Kokich. We shot a pilot in 1999 and imagined—in our future history—a fanatic attack on the symbol of America, the World Trade Center in the year 2010.
Science fiction often becomes science fact all too quickly and we were horribly prophetic.
Read on in these series of interlocked stories; only time will tell how much else of the saga of The Exceptionals remains fiction and how much becomes frightening fact.
Teel James Glenn
May 20, 2006
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ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Teel James Glenn is a native of Brooklyn, though he's traveled the world for thirty years as a Stuntman/ Coordinator/ Swordmaster, Martial Artist, Jouster, Book Illustrator, Storyteller, Bodyguard and Actor. His greatest adventure, however, is being father to the amazing Aislin Rose...
Jerry Kokich was a dancer for eighteen years and a member of The Joffrey Ballet for eight. He met TJ Glenn when they were both working at the New York Sports Club in Greenwich Village. Reading comic books.
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