Prologue: Meet the gang ^.^ Oh, and even though a character is named "Nick," he's nothing like me. I didn't write myself into the story. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Nicoli's heavy panting gave him away. The security guard who was chasing him bashed through the door Nicoli was hiding behind, sending him stumbling backwards a few steps. He raised his silenced Desert Eagle and fired at the guard, splitting his skull open with a single shot. The guard never had a chance to fire back and crumpled to the floor in a headless heap of armor and flesh. Nicoli breathed a sigh of relief and listened intently for more guards who heard the crash of the door, but no more opposition presented itself. "I wonder where I am," he wondered as he looked around. All that was in the room was a janitor's cart and some Drain-O. "Huh. A storage closet. And here I was hoping for the Armory." He sighed quietly. "Oh well, back to business." Nicoli checked his Desert Eagle to make sure the clip was nearly full, then headed out the door. No sooner had he taken a step out than a gunshot rang out down the hall. Nicoli's eyes widened as he turned, just in time to meet the lead bullet face to face. "Ha! I finally gotcha!" a deep male voice chuckled. Nicoli pulled the eyepiece off his face and glowered at his orange companion. "Shut up, Zeek. Since when did you use rifles, anyway?" Zeek grinned. "Since I learned that you can dodge rockets, duh." The black-and-white cat at the console across the room turned around, smiling and shaking his head at the other two felines. "Now, now, children. It was just a game." "But he always wins at this game!" Nicoli pouted. "You'd win if you'd be more careful. Try using your Psychic powers a little more" "Be quiet, Koshiro! Don't give him hints!" Koshiro simply laughed at Zeek. "Oops, I'm sorry," he teased before turning back to the computer console. "Wanna play again?" Zeek nodded enthusiastically, while Nicoli shook his head slowly. "I've got a splitting headache now." "Quit whining and take yer whoopin' like a man!" Zeek taunted him. Nicoli simply got out of his chair and headed through the door toward the kitchen. "I'll play again, soon's this headache leaves," he said as he disappeared through the door. "Get some training in while he's gone," advised Koshiro. "Good idea. Plug me back in." Zeek rested his head on the back of his reclining chair and waited for the training exercise to begin. Nicoli was right in the middle of eating his BLT when a midnight-black feline walked into the kitchen. He turned and saw the newcomer and swallowed the bite in his mouth. "Hey, Damien," was all he said before going back to eating. Damien smiled at Nicoli. "Hey, Nick. You feeling okay? You're still supposed to be training with Zeek." "Splitting headache. I had to eat something before taking an aspirin." Damien winced. "Guess this isn't a good time to tell you that you have a new mission." Nicoli nearly choked on his sandwich and sputtered a few pieces of bacon back onto his plate. He swallowed once he regained his composure and glared at his comrade annoyedly. "Why me? Why not Zeek or Koshiro? Those furballs haven't had a job in weeks!" "Neither have you, so stop complaining. Besides, this one will require your hacking expertise and sneakiness." Nicoli chuckled softly. "My sneakiness just got me a rifle round in the gut. Ask Zeek, he's the one who shot me." Damien retorted with an amused laugh. "Still not getting the hang of your new Clairvoyance abilities, eh?" "You know as well as I do that he can shield himself from those kinds of things, Damien." Nicoli finished his sandwich and washed it down with a quick guzzle of his soda. "Did you know that bugger is using rifles now?" "Yup." Nicoli growled softly. "Then why didn't you tell me? That kind of knowledge would have been extremely helpful, you know." Damien gave him a cruel grin. "Well, that would give you too much of an advantage and defeat the purpose of training. You never know what your opponent will use against you. Unless you're a high-ranking Wizard, that is." Nicoli took his aspirin with another gulp of soda. "Whatever. I'm going to take a nap, brief me once I wake up." He yawned softly and stood up, padding softly to the door once more. "G'night, Nick. Sweet dreams," Damien sniggered. Nicoli turned to glower at him once more before proceeding up the stairs to him room. "Take that!" shouted Zeek, reducing his current target to cinders. He laughed with a pyromaniacal glee, waiting for the next training dummy to show itself. "What should I use next, Koshiro? The ol' Fireball is getting lame." Koshiro smirked, watching the destruction on his 17-inch monitor. "I dunno. How about a Flame Dart?" Zeek nodded at the voice in his earpiece. His next robotic partner clumsily strode into the room, almost asking to be annihilated. Zeek concentrated on the air in front of him, creating a small, levitating bolt of heat energy pointing directly at the decoy. With another thought, the dart shot forward into the robot's chest, scorching its internal circuitry before exploding violently. The tiger cackled sadistically, enjoying the shower of metal and silicon clinking around him. "How's that, Koshiro?" he shouted to the two- toned feline at the console back in the "real world." "Methinks you're having too much fun with this, ya nut," came the reply, followed by a muffled chuckle. "Let's take a break, I'm getting hungry." Zeek pouted in the game world he was in. "Oh, fine. Log me out, then." A moment later, his game image vanished from Koshiro's monitor and his real self sat up and stretched, removing the eyepiece that linked his cerebrum to the computer. "Whatcha want to get to eat? Pizza?" He almost drooled at the mere thought of the greasy food. Nicoli stirred in his bed, sniffing the air unconsciously. He opened his eyes and sat up stiffly, tilting his head to the side and cracking his neck. "Mmm. I smell pizza," he murmured to himself. He got out of his bed and straightened his shirt and jeans while walking to his bathroom. A hairbrush teleported into his hand out of thin air and he brushed the snarls he had accumulated out of his shoulder-length white-blonde hair. When he felt he looked halfway decent, he trekked back down the stairs to the kitchen, where he found an empty pizza box and three piggy felines, who all turned toward him when they heard him enter. "Hey Nick," Damien greeted him. "Feel better?" was the first thing Koshiro could say once he wiped the pizza sauce off his chin. "Much better, thank you," replied Nicoli. "So! Ready for that whoopin'?" Zeek mumbled through a mouth full of cheese. "He's got a mission, Zeek. I need to brief him." Nicoli cringed. "Okay, okay, let's get it over with. C'mon, Damien." Damien nodded and led the way to his personal briefing room, which was nothing more than a room with a messy desk, a computer terminal built into the desk, and a monstrous screen on the side wall. He sat down behind the desk and Nicoli pulled up a chair along the opposite wall. "So, who are we after today? I hope it's a big group this time," warned Nicoli. "Look, I said I was sorry for exaggerating the support the Black Panthers had. Get over with it, okay?" Nicoli grumbled something inaudibly. Damien frowned, then grinned once more. "You'll enjoy this one, I guarantee it. Turn to the monitor." Nicoli turned as Damien typed something into his terminal. An image of a building appeared on the screen. It wasn't more than three stories tall, but was wide enough to take up a good ten or twelve acres. A large sign on the building identified it as the headquarters for Jackson & Kepler Software, Inc. He chuckled softly. "I see why my hacking skills will come in handy." Damien nodded. "We'll get to that. Anyhoo, see their logo?" He pointed to a diamond-shaped symbol with what appeared to be red J and K letters intermingled with one another on top of a white background. "Yes, I see it," yawned Nicoli. "What about it." "Well, the government captured a few individuals involved in the recent 'random acts of terror,' as they called it. Each group had a different symbol on their helmets, and they looked like…" He typed in something else on his keyboard and four new symbols appeared on the screen. "This." Nicoli studied the symbols. Each one looked far too different from one another to be related to the rest of the set. "That one on the end looks a little like the J & K icon, but the others look like ink blots to me." Damien laughed softly. "I thought so at first. Watch this, though." The screen changed to the default window for Paint Shop Pro and Damien loaded the J & K icon into the program. "The first one was the most difficult to make from this icon, but I think I can do it again." Nicoli watched as Damien mirrored the image vertically, took the negative of it, and performed a few more actions on it. In the end, it looked exactly like the first badge in the terrorists' set. "There we go." Nicoli was impressed, but still had questions. "The helmets were probably mass- produced, though, and that looks way too hard for a computer to spray paint onto them. How did they make them?" His question was met with a shrug. "Beats me. Manufacturing processes were never my forte, anyway. Let's continue, though." Nicoli shook his head. "No need, I see where this is going. You think all the attacks were linked to this company, don't you?" Damien grinned sheepishly. "You know me too well, Nick. But the logos weren't the only thing that baffles me about these guys. Did you know that the staff of Jackson & Kepler Software is made up mostly of canines?" Laughter echoed in the room temporarily. "You've got to be kidding," retorted Nicoli. "Canines are dumb as bricks. They're not programmers and engineers, they're laborers! You sure you did your research correctly?" "Of course. They haven't had a decent feline worker in eons. Until now, that is." This hint of an undercover mission cheered Nicoli up immensely. "You want me to go to work for them, I take it?" "Bingo. Now, I've set up an interview for you with the VP of Research, and there's no way you won't get the job if you rattle off what we'll send you over the DataLink." Nicoli groaned. The Brain Plug, as he called them, always gave him a headache. "Stupid things." "I know, I know, and I'm sorry. Anyway, here's the best part. This place is just upstate in Silicon Valley. We'll be available any time if you blow your cover or otherwise get in trouble. So, any questions?" "Yeah. Do I get a hotel room or an apartment? I don't want to teleport that far every day for work." "Of course. You have a nice apartment reserved about five miles away from the J & K HQ building. It's a pretty neat place; the apartment complex has everything from standard hotel luxuries to a miniature store on the first floor. Any other questions?" "Nope, I think that covers it. When do I start?" "Two days from now, so pack your stuff up. The interview is on Monday, so you'll have the weekend to get settled in." The next day was uneventful. Nicoli loaded up a few boxes with the essential equipment he takes on every mission: various computer components, two Desert Eagles, two Uzi's, plenty of ammunition, a week's worth of clothes, his toiletries, some linens and pillows for his bed, and plenty of money, to begin with. He also decided to take some of the extra furniture from the basement of their home, including a couch, a recliner, a six-month-old full-size bed, and a 17-inch TV as a start. The next morning, Nicoli said his goodbyes to his teammates, gathered his possessions up, and teleported away to the most eventful mission any of them had ever been on.