Razar burst
from his mental journey.
What time is it, he thought.
He stared at
three two-toned dark and light blue clad figures in his room. The
women wore a white mask and a cowboy hat and fiddled with a personal
digital assistant. One of the men had a green Mohawk style fluff of
hair from his shiny bald held. He stood behind another that had his
hair cropped more like security personnel here at Crey Biotech. On
the front of their dark blue chest was the black emblem of the letter
‘H’ over a letter ‘C’. Both of those were on top of an upside down
equilateral triangle with its vertices clipped.
The naked drake warrior
growled and hopped to a crouched position on the bed his arms shot
forth from his sides and his metallic claws sprang from the back of
his hand.
"Crap," the lead member said stepping back and putting his
arms up.
Razar’s conscious mind finally emerged completely from its
journey wrestling the reflexive subconscious back. He recognized who
these people were, he had seen them in the newspapers he read from
time to time; they were the Hero Corps.
"Please wait we are not here
to hurt you."
Occam lowered his arms perplexed, why were they here?
"We are with Hero Corps, the green Mohawk member said raising his
arms to indicate he was unarmed and offer no threat.
"Bingo!" the
women exclaimed. Occam’s claws retracted and the room shook slightly
from a distant explosion nearby. Power went out flooding the room
with the glow of emergency lighting.
Occam paused trying to make his
claws extend, but they would not respond.
"Let me explain," the leader
said shuffling forward. "Crey is not what you think, we can’t prove
it completely, but we can cause you to doubt them."
"What black magic
is this?" Razar demanded although he sensed no focused evil here.
"We just cut power to the main generator; your claws are inactive
because we are jamming a frequency that allows you to use them. It
is sort of a fail safe frequency."
Occam sensed no lies.
"If the Countess
were to lose you the lack of this frequency would simple turn off
your claw ability."
Again, Occam brought back the memories of his
lost limbs, the feeling of extending his natural claws. Nothing happened.
He focused his mind, fresh from a higher plane, and he sensed it.
It was here and it was subtle. He breathed deep and its essence choked
him. It was evil, the worst type of evil, slow, subtle, and corrupting.
This type could take a small ember and breathe into it creating a
fiery holocaust that consumes nations, worlds, and souls. He was amazed
he did not notice it before; it was like being reborn. Whom could
he trust?
The leader removed a letter from his belt canister from
and handed it to the drake, "This is from Dr. Praetor, and he sent
us to rescue you."
Occam unfurled the letter a read…
Dear Occam’s
Razar,
It saddens me that this has happened. Crey Industries has completely
severed my connection to you. I knew accepting their money for the
archeological dig that found you was going to cost me, but I did not
know the price. Your freedom is not worth it. I have hired Hero Corps
to help you escape. Go with them. I look forward to seeing you again
and continuing our conversations.
Signed,
Dr. Orrin Praetor
That was
not the only thing Occam read. He hopped off his bed and stood shocked.
Centered in the bottom of the letter like a footnote was an ancient
mark he recognized and expected never to see again. It was an Elven
mark. He lowered the letter and stared the trio.
"Oh, no," the woman
gasped, "we’ve stayed to long."
David Sparrow was in the locker room
changing when the explosion shook building. His shift had ended and
he had just been relieved from his shift. He grabbed his personal
firearm, a Glock 19, and chambered a round. He peeked out the locker
room door and heard shouting and yelling.
"What’s going on? Sit-rep."
he asked to the voices.
"Someone’s attacked us." A shadowy voice said
from the dimly lit corridor.
"Who? Devouring Earth, Freakshow…Rikti?"
The last enemy scared him the most.
"No, somebody else I think," the
voice yelled back. "Maybe Nemesis."
Officer Sparrow mumbled under
his breath. This could be a long night. His daughter’s birthday was
tomorrow. He ran up to who he thought was a security guard and was
surprised to see it was a janitor armed with a wet mop. He shrugged
and picked up his pace when he realized the commotion was centered
near Occam’s quarters. He arrived at the surprised to see Ms. Jackson
already present taking charge of the situation and sealing off the
hallway.
"How long have they been in there?" she asked into a confiscated
radio.
"Five minutes. Camera and sound have been disabled," an officer
in the building’s security office said.
"Five minutes too long, something
is up." She depressed the talk button again. "Prepare to cut the fail-safe
frequency on my orders."
The hallway quieted with everyone straining
to hear what was going on inside Occam’s room. The seconds stretched
to minutes. Ms. Jackson was about to give the orders to take the room.
"Notify the Paragon Protectors." She said to one of here new lackeys.
"And where the hell are my Tanks!"
Suddenly, they heard rustling and
yelling from inside the room. Shots broke out and Occam burst through
his door and slammed across the opposite wall like someone had thrown
him. Everyone had stopped surprised by the scene.
He got up, growled
extending his claws, and launched himself back into the room. Everyone
just stood slack jawed and did not know what to do. One of the intruders
hurled backwards from the room and slammed into the wall similarly
to Occam. A form, blurred and shadowlike was instantly attacking the
figure. It was Occam.
David recognized the Hero Corps uniform and
could not believe his eyes. Why are they here, he thought?
The Hero
Corps member ducked missing Occam’s claw as it sunk deeply into the
wall. He kicked out knocking the breath from the half-dragon. A woman
burst from the room and struck Occam in the head rendering him unconscious.
Another one, with a green Mohawk stuck a weapon across the door threshold
and fired several stun grenades down the hall opposite David. A smoke
grenade also burst forth shrouding the area.
"Retreat, mission is
scrubbed!" The women yelled. "Subject unwilling. Full retreat."
Some
gunfire burst forth, but David held his fire yelling for the others
to stop. He did not want to hit Occam. He coughed from the thick smoke
and the fire alarm system activated flashing strobes everywhere. Hero
Corps had escaped.
Ms. Jackson was furious and yelled for the Paragon
Protectors and her precious Tanks. David had never heard anyone swear
so much before; Ms. Jackson had quite the potty mouth. He lingered
for another half an hour to ensure Occam was okay. It was surprising
they got the better of the half-dragon. He lurked in the shadows when
he overheard Ms. Jackson make a call on her cell phone.
"We were raided
by Hero Corps… No, sir… We’ll catch them... They came for Occam. They
had to have been hired by the Professor… I don’t trust them or Occam
now. They beat him and I am suspicious. We’ll have to pay a little
visit to the Professor. I still recommend continuing with the plan…
If he flees, we’ll know and we’ll be ready.
Occam finally came to
and his medical staff helped him to his bed. An hour later things
were returning to normal, at least in his room. There had not been
too many things broken in the ruse. He figured he would not be allowed
to leave under his power or any one else. Now he had to figure out
how to escape. He told Hero Corps to keep an eye on his immediate
future activities and wait for his signal. The stench of evil was
great here and he cared not for it.