The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Story: Tiger Eyes

by J. Darksong

XIII.

Bert sighed deeply, polishing his weapon for the thousandth time. Checking his watch, he finally sighed. “Okay. It’s just about time, boys. Does everyone have their assignment down?”

“Yeah, Bert, we know the drill, alright.”

The mercenary whirled around, glaring at his companion. “You, I don’t need to hear from, Charlie. In fact, the only reason I brought you along this time is so I can keep an eye on you! And, oh, in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear to you this time, you are NOT coming in with the rest of the team.”

“C’mon, Bert, I was just—”

“STOW IT, CHARLIE!” he yelled back. “I don’t wanna hear it! You screwed up the last infiltration, using live rounds! This was all supposed to be low-key, real hush-hush. Dammit, the whole point of a sneaking mission is to get in, get out, and leave no traces.” He grabbed the younger man by the collar, hoisting him up several inches. “You shot some damn kid that just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time! You put him in the hospital! It’s taken this long to go back after the other two because we had to wait for the heat to die down and the cops to stop nosing around... all because YOU got too damn trigger happy! And we’re damned lucky they didn’t decide to skip town and disappear again or we might have never found them again!”

Charlie grumbled, biting his lip. Yeah, so I screwed up. Big deal. We did manage to get our target, unlike the other two teams. So what if some stupid punk got hit in the crossfire? We achieved the primary objective. He’s just fucking jealous because I showed him up. I faced my demons and came out on top, but he’s still spooked by the Cleveland incident. Fine. Once this whole mission is done and I collect my pay, I’m outta here. Hell, maybe old man Denton will need me for some solo work.

* * *

Devon sighed deeply, taking a pull from his cigarette. The rain beat down unmercifully overhead, the awning above him doing a poor job keeping the water at bay. He grunted, tossing the butt, pulling his black leather jacket tighter around himself. The thick dark storm clouds hid the moon, for which he was thankful. Taking another cleansing breath, he strode forward, using the darkness, wrapping himself within its folds like a cloak. Striding across the parking lot, he focused himself only on the task at hand, on getting inside the apartment building. The rest would come later.

A doorman, dressed in red, frowned as he drew near. Before he could even begin to challenge the young man, Devon struck. Sunglasses lifted, their eyes met, and the doorman was his. He shuddered slightly, blinked once, then opened the door for him, holding it wide open.

“Good day to you, Mr. Saunders,” the doorman said, tipping his hat at the youth.

“Good evening, Edward,” Devon replied, lowering his sunglasses, as he entered the building. “Poor weather we’re having tonight.”

Inside, he breathed a small sigh of relief. Other than the sentinel at the door, security was virtually non-existent. Well, I suppose, in a way, it’s to be expected, he realized after a moment. This is one of Denton’s apartment buildings, after all, not his office... and the third one on the list. Oh well... a lead’s a lead. He made his way carefully up the stairs, searching out with his mind, not really focused on any one mind, just on the lookout for anything that might lead him to believe his quarry was staying here.

I can hardly believe it’s been a week now since Shanna disappeared, he thought glumly. I hate to say it, but maybe Alvin was right all along. ‘Let’s take the fight to Denton this time!’ Yeah, it sounds good in theory, but its easier said that done. Since Cleveland, he’s being as careful and secretive about revealing his location as we’ve been. It wasn’t hard to get a list of his private and company holdings... but finding out which one he’s staying at is a lot harder.

Rounding the next flight of stairs, he paused. Focusing his mind and gaze down the hallway, he listened in on what appeared to be the chambermaid. ...know why I have to bother cleaning this room, anyway. It’s not as if Mr. Denton has even spent a single night here...

Devon groaned silently, thinking it was yet another false lead, and started to head back downstairs, when the rest came through—...and he hasn’t even unpacked his suitcases! I can only imagine what he must look like, wearing the same clothes, day after day...

YES! Devon cheered silently. Jackpot! He’s here, in this city, if not this apartment building. If he has suitcases, then he has papers... info... something! I need to get into that room.

Sliding back against the wall, he focused his power inward, creating a ‘distraction’ field around himself. Moments later, the door opened, and the maid, a young attractive brunette, exited, pushing a small cart of linens. She turned, staring directly at him, only to frown, her eyes automatically shifting their gaze slightly to the side. Shrugging, she continued on to the next room, ignoring him completely, her mind already discounting his presence. Devon smiled, walking up behind her. He waited until she opened the room with her passkey, then lifted it from the cart as she set it down.

The girl paused, whirling around again. Again, she started at the black clad youth, only to find her eyes unable to focus on him, her gaze slipping this time to the far left. “Hmmm... thought I saw...” She shook her head, sighing. “This job must be getting to me. Maybe I need to switch to the day shift for a few weeks, let Wanda and Marie handle the night shift for a change.” The girl entered the room with the cart, closing the door behind her.

Devon chuckled softly, inserting the key in the slot, he slipped inside James Denton’s reserved room.

* * *

“Very well done, Master,” Amber said softly from her spot on the floor. Naked, she knelt just beside Alvin, watching him more that the widescreen display in front of her. “Looks like you got them all.”

Alvin merely grunted. Focused intently on the screen, he maneuvered Naked Snake through the group of corpses on the ground, moving to another section of forest, where another armed squad was patrolling. Rather than avoid the sentries, he maneuvered his character straight towards them, announcing his arrival with a well-thrown hand grenade. The explosion immediately triggered an alarm, and within seconds, numerous armed soldiers rushed into the area. Gritting his teeth, Alvin turned Snake towards the rushing bodies, locking in with his hard won Patriot, and cutting through them like a hot knife through butter. Several seconds after the assault began, it was over.

“Good job, Master Alvin,” Maxine commented from her spot on Alvin’s other side. In her hands, she held a small glass filled with beer. She glanced at her sister Amber, who held an uneaten Philly Steak sandwich on a plate. “Maybe you’d like to take a break and have a bite to eat? Or a drink?” she asked, hopefully.

Alvin merely grunted, leaning back into his “seat”—the naked body of their mother, Amanda, she sighed softly at the skin to skin contact. The pleasure was only short lived, however, and again she had to bite her lip to keep from talking. She knew precisely what her Master’s problem was, the reason he had become so moody and morose. Yet, the only time she’d mentioned Devon’s name, he had exploded, threatening to turn her into a brain dead slut and send her out to do tricks on a street corner if she ever mentioned his name again. And while the idea of being a ‘brain-dead slut’ held little concern to her, the idea of being sent away from her Master, never to serve him again, rocked her to her very being.

I know Master misses him, she thought glumly. He’s been sitting here playing all the violent shooting or killing video games in his collection for the past week, taking out his anger on them, when he really wants to take it out on Master Devon. He hasn’t eaten very much in the past few days... and he’s barely even touched the girls or myself! She sighed lightly, remembering the way she’d crawled to him, seductively, sensually, using every enticing movement she knew to turn him on, begging to be allowed to suck him off... only to be pushed away, told to go tend to chores around the house. She’d obeyed, leaving hurt and in tears.

“Dammit!!” he yelled a minute later, slamming the controller down on the floor. Plastic cracked, and shattered, causing the game to freeze. “I am SICK to DEATH of this shit!!” he yelled, jumping up, glaring down at the three females. “I am totally fucking fine, you hear me? You are all thinking the same thing... thinking I’m upset ‘cause that damn mutha-fuckin’ bitch ass traitor up and left!! Well fuck him, and fuck the horse he rode in on! I got along just fine before that son of a bitch crawled into my life, and I can damn well get along without him!”

He walked over and kicked over the flat panel TV, easily shattering the five thousand dollar device. “I’m sick of it! You hear me?!? For days, you three have been thinking it at me, again and again... ‘oh, if only Master Devon were here’, ‘oh, I wish Master Devon were around, he’d know what to do’, and ‘I hope Master Devon comes back soon’. DAMMIT!! Even now, EVEN NOW, you fucking bitches are sitting there, thinking it even WHILE I’M SAYING IT!!” Screaming his frustration, he turned to leave the room... and cut his foot on the shattered glass.

“AAAHHH!! SHIT!!” he cried, leaping back, clutching his bleeding foot, nearly tripping over Maxine as she scurried out of his way. “FUCK FUCK FUCK!!” he yelled, dropping back down to the bed, tears running down his cheeks. “Shit... it wasn’t supposed to be this way, dammit!”

Deciding the time was right, Amanda nodded. “Maxine, dear, go and get some alcohol and bandages for Master’s foot. Amber, go and get some ice from the freezer, and bring back the broom and dustpan to clean up some of this glass.” As the girls made their way carefully through the shattered minefield, Amanda crawled across the bed, moving over to her Owner. “Please, Master,” she said gently, “let me see it.”

Grunting, angry, frustrated, but too tired to put on a brave front, he lifted his leg. “Oh, dear,” Amanda murmured softly, examining his foot at length. “Looks deep,” she said, finally, “but I don’t think it cut and tendons or muscle tissue. When the girls return, I’ll remove the shards, and clean it, then we’ll bandage it up. You’ll have to stay off it for a while, Master, but it should heal cleanly in a few days.”

Alvin blinked in surprise. “Wow... that’s... um, so, where did you learn all this shit, anyway?”

“Oh, its nothing much,” Amanda shrugged, blushing at the slight praise. Before I married into money, I went to school to be a nurse. If I hadn’t married Reginald after my second year, I might have gone on to become a doctor.” She sighed wistfully. “But that was a lifetime ago. An entire other life ago.” She smiled at her Master. “Now, Master, my life, my existence, my entire reason for being, is to serve You, and take care of Your needs.”

Damn, Alvin thought silently, overcome by a wave of sudden guilt. All this time, I thought she was just another dumb stuck-up bitch with money. I never even wondered what she was like before I took her... who she had been. Damn... a doctor, huh? Maybe Devon had a point after all... about how we use our powers...

Alvin sat silently in thought as the girls returned. He winced slightly as Amanda gently, expertly removed the shards of broken glass from his foot. He gritted his teeth as Amber delicately worked the wound, forcing he blood to flow, then Maxine lovingly cleaned the wound, flooding it with alcohol, biting her lip at the discomfort she caused. He sighed softly as Amanda bandaged the injury, taping the gauze and bandage in place to keep it from slipping or pulling. And he groaned in pleasure as all three lightly kissed his injured foot, lapping lightly with their tongues.

Saying nothing, he slid back onto the king-sized bed, positioning himself. Girls, prepared your mother to be taken, he thought to the two girls simultaneously. I feel like rewarding her for her... good work. He grinned wickedly as Amanda gasped in surprise, her two daughters pulling her back flat against the bed. Her cry of alarm turned instantly to cries of pleasure as the twin sluts began gently licking and nibbling their way across their mother’s naked body. Amanda moaned deeply, reaching up with her hands to caress her breasts, only to find her muscles locked, unmovable. She glanced over at her Master, to find Alvin smiling wickedly, gently stroking his ever-hardening erection. Seeing her Master’s pleasure at her predicament, Amanda gave up the struggle, simply enjoying her girls’ loving ministrations.

Having played with their mother before, the two girls knew exactly how to bring her to her peak. Maxine leaned forward, giving her mother a deep, soulful French kiss, before pulling away, batting her eyes, and purring, “MMmmmm... mommy, your baby girl is hungry... can she feed on mommy’s teats? Puh-leese?” Amanda gasped, her eyes nearly rolling back into her head, as Maxine dotted the question with a quick lick across one of Mandy’s diamond hard nipples.

One of Alvin’s turn-on’s was watching a woman getting her breasts sucked on, so long ago he’d implanted that particular kink into the mature woman’s head. Amanda, who’d always nurtured a breast fetish, had taken the idea and run with it, her twisted and warped mind conjuring all sorts of kinky naughty scenarios. By far, the thing that brought her off the hardest was the idea of having her two girls, still babies, drinking milk from her tits, while she was being fucked deep and hard by her Master. Eagerly, she turned to face her Owner, begging silently for the illusion.

It’s exactly what I had in mind from the beginning, sweet one, he sent, sliding forward into position. As both girls descended eagerly onto their mother’s massive breasts, Alvin dove into Amanda’s mind, altering her perceptions, bringing to life her fantasy. The older woman gasped in pleasure, feeling two babies suckling her nipples, feeling her milk flow through her, sending ripples of pleasure through her entire body. A dark shape rose up at her from below, and her legs spread, almost of their own accord. She looked up at her Master, staring deep into his Eyes, his deep, powerful, glowing Tiger Eyes. A wave of pure pleasure burst through her, and she came, instantly, before he even touched her. Reality/fantasy blurred for a moment, only to return as he entered her, sending more pleasure through her already battered senses... pleasure, yes, but this time a physical pleasure, solid, manageable, something she could withstand.

Alvin groaned as he rammed in and out of his slut, letting his power flow freely through her, fucking her, literally, mind and body. Again, he felt the small stab of guilt at using her this way, of playing with her mind like it were his own personal toy, but he rationalized it, knowing she enjoyed the rush his power over her gave, as much as he enjoyed it. Amanda responded as predicted, losing herself in the feelings, the sensations, losing her damned mind in the erotic maelstrom of ecstasy as she came yet again, her pussy clenching tightly around his cock, forcing Alvin’s orgasm as well, milking him of every last drop. Halfway through, he linked with the twins, feeding them his pleasure, causing the girls to orgasm as well, feeding back into himself; just as his manhood began to soften, the jolt of pleasure jump started his motor again. Sliding carefully out of the shuddering, nearly comatose Amanda, he focused his attention on Maxine...

* * *

James Denton frowned, glancing over his steepled hands at his two subordinates. “Well,” he said after several minutes, “I think these reports speak for themselves. Aside from a bit of a rocky start at the beginning with the programming, our new prototype weapon seems to be outperforming all expectations. Her intelligence quotient ranks her very high; despite having her mind completely erased and programmed to our specifications, Zero-One-Five has shown exceptional adaptability, and phenomenal creative problem solving skills. Quite a way from the ‘mental vegetable’ I was lead to believe we might have following the creation of her crystal matrix neural net.” He shook the file lightly. “In nearly every category, Zero-One-Five has shown to be everything we dreamed of for this project, and more!” He scowled deeper. “So why is it now that you are both telling me we need to delay going forward with the next step?”

“I think—” Doctor Bradford and Doctor McDonald spoke at once. Frowning, glancing at each other, Karen pushed forward. “I’m not so sure she’s ready yet, Sir,” she said, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from her face. “It’s one thing to run scenario after scenario after scenario in the laboratory, under controlled conditions, but its another thing entirely out in the real world. We... we just don’t have enough data to send Sha... the SUBJECT out on a real mission without knowing how well she can cope in a real world environment.”

“I agree,” Alex put in, glaring at his co-worker, “though for different reasons. Sir, since you handed over operational control of this latest phase of the project to my... ahem... ESTEEMED colleague,” he said with venom, “my department has been cut almost completely out of the loop! Yes, I know, she’s not completely mechanical in nature, that she is, in effect, 99 percent biological, but its that one percent of electronics that everything hinges on! Everyone’s been so concerned with the psych profiles, the problem solving, and the ability of this subject to blend in... the subject’s software that my guys haven’t had the chance to even clear her hardware!”

Karen snorted. “Like I don’t know how to do a simple diagnostics check, Alex. I am with the... subject, all day! If there was a design problem with the matrix, believe me, I would be the first one to notice!”

“That’s assuming you weren’t too distracted with all your other... extra-curricular activities,” Alex shot back.

“And just what are you hinting at, Doctor?” Karen growled.

“Excuse me—” Denton said, standing up.

“Hinting at?” Alex laughed. “Fine, if you want me to spell it out directly. I’m talking about your very unprofessional sexual escapades in the office place, DOCTOR!”

“Why... why you son of a bitch!” Karen squeaked, managing to look outraged. “How DARE you—”

“ENOUGH!!”

Both scientists spun, turning to face their employer. Denton glared at both of them for a moment, before sitting back down at his desk. “I have had it with you two constantly bickering like little children. This is a multimillion dollar deal... a government contract with the goddamn Pentagon! Military... huh! I almost wish this WAS a military organization, so I’d have a reason to have you both tossed in the brig!”

Alex sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry. We got a little... carried away. Look, I know time is of the essence, here, and we’re under the wire... but both Karen and I agree that Zero-One-Five is just not ready yet. Before we send her out on a military sanctioned mission, we need to know she won’t suddenly flip out, go against orders, or simply go berserk.”

“Yes,” conceded Karen slowly, “and we need to do a full systems diagnostic on the subject and make sure she is in perfect working order before we start using the process on civilians, to make sure we don’t accidentally turn out a squad of super-powered, brain-damaged soldiers.”

Denton considered for a moment. Turning his chair to the wall, he glanced at the portrait hanging on the wall, that of his wife and son, with himself in the center. The perfect family portrait. He sighed.

“Alright. Three more days. After that, I don’t care if all she can do is recite the fucking alphabet, she is going before the Pentagon Brass, so use this time wisely! And remember... everyone’s ass is on the line here, yours included! If she’s not perfect, you’d damned well better MAKE her perfect.”

Karen sighed deeply as she strode out of the office. Adjusting her glasses, she smoothed her blonde hair back again, almost as an afterthought. “Dr. Bradford,” she said as Alex turned to head back to his lab. “Just a moment.”

Alex Bradford, turned, frowning. He’d been half-expecting this confrontation for a week, and after finally airing out their grievances in Denton’s office, he knew Karen would be gunning for him. Well, so much the better. We can finally settle a few things, and move on. Seeing the grim expression on her face, however, he reconsidered. Hmmm. Shit. Hope she’s not in a mood to fight. According to her file, she’s a 3rd level black belt...

“Dr. Bradford,” she began. “Alex,” she amended, forcing a smile on his face. “I just wanted to... well... to apologize,”

“Yes, well, I’m sorry you feel that way, but I was just speaking my—” Eyes widening, he did a double-take. “Wh-wha-what did you just say?”

Smirking slightly, Karen repeated herself. “I said, I apologize.” Seeing his stunned expression, she continued. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot on day one, and things just spiraled out from there. I’m not saying it was MY fault, and I’m not blaming you, either. We both could have handled this situation a lot more... professionally. But Denton’s right. Both of our asses are on the line now, and if we can’t produce, it’s not just our jobs we’ll have to worry about. We won’t be going to the unemployment line, it’ll be San Quentin... IF we’re lucky! The boys on Capital Hill might turn a blind eye to what we’re doing as long as we can give them the so-called ‘weapons’ they want, but if not, they’ll have no qualms about shutting this whole operation down and making the lot of us ‘conveniently disappear’.” She put out a hand. “So, what do you say? Bury the hatchet?”

Alex considered. Forcing a smile onto his face as well, he shook her hand, cautiously. “That... rather big of you, Karen. And, in the spirit of this new... ahem... friendship, maybe you’d allow me access to the subject, to finish running those hardware diagnostics?”

“Of course, of course,” Karen replied, dismissively. “And maybe, in return, you’ll go along with my suggestion that we take Sh... Zero-One-Five out of the lab, on a ‘trial-run’, per sae.”

“Trial run?”

“Yes,” Karen continued. “I propose that we let the girl out into public with very basic instructions, let her mingle and interact with the public at large. We could have a few of our researchers out as well, keeping track of her, watching her carefully, to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

“Uh huh,” Dr. Bradford replied, thinking. Just what was she up to now? “And what would we do if something DID go wrong? You DO remember what happened when Zero-One-Four programming crashed, and he went rogue on us? We lost three dozen good men, and that was here, in the lab, and contained! Can you imagine what would happen out there, in a totally dynamic environment?”

“Of course,” Karen replied coolly. “That’s why I believe we need this test. Unlike Zero-One-Four, this subject has been fitted with a neural cascade function,” she reminded him, “one of your better ideas. If she goes berserk, a simple flip of the switch, and we can shut down her down, and effectively turn her brain off. We go in, bring back the mindless shell, figure out what went wrong, and simply reboot and install new software.”

“That’s assuming we have enough time to fix any mistakes and get her back in working order before the deadline,” he pointed out.

“All the more reason to do our trial run as soon as possible,” Karen countered. “This is a good idea, Alex. We both know it. Yes, there is a lot of risk involved, but better to try it now and have it fall apart that to risk it possibly blowing up in our faces in front of the Pentagon representatives, where it really counts.”

Dr. Bradford sighed deeply. “Okay. You have a very good point. Once my department has cleared her, I’ll push Denton to approve your little field test. I just hope you know what it is you’re doing, Karen.”

Dr. McDonald watched him walk away. As soon as he was out of range, her expression changed completely. “Oh, yes, my dear Doctor Alex,” she whispered softly, almost to herself, “I know PRECISELY what I’m doing.”

* * *

Fuck! Devon, you sonfabitch, where the hell are you when I need you! Alvin grumbled silently. Slowly, he raised his hands up over his head.

“That’s it kid. Nice and easy. No tricks, either. And don’t even THINK about taking off those glasses!”

The tall sandy haired man kept his weapon pointed at Alvin the entire time. Gesturing to his companions, he stood watching the target as the other three mercenaries dragged bodies of the three girls out of the room. Alvin winced slightly at the rough treatment, not out of concern or sympathy, but from the near certainty that he would be facing similar treatment. Without direct unimpeded, eye-to-eye contact with at least one of these men, the most he could manage was a moderate inflow of their surface thoughts. What he was picking up didn’t seem to bode well for him.

Damn. These guys are fucking pissed. And... FUCK! I don’t know what I did to piss of the guy with the gun, but he seems to be barely holding back the urge to beat the shit outta me!

“We’re secure, Chief,” one of the men announced, taking a position just inside the doorway.

“Good,” Burt grunted. He released his stance slightly, lowering the gun muzzle but keeping it trained on his target. “Well, kid. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Alvin frowned. “Long time? Fuck, man, I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

“Really?” Burt took a step forward, raising the gun again. “And I thought you kids were supposed to be some kind of ‘super-geniuses’ or something, with perfect memory.” He circled slowly around the boy, keeping his weapon trained on him the entire time. “Are you SURE you don’t recognize me? My face? My voice? Oh... well, the face does look a little different now, the doctors over in Helsinki did a great job on the plastic surgery... but surely you remember my voice?” Seeing no recognition, he frowned. “Or, maybe you’d remember better if I were screaming ‘Oh, shit, oh gaawwdd... please... please kid, don’t do it, I got a wife and kids, don’t do it, please!’”

Alvin stiffened. The words, spoken exactly as he remembered them, did trigger his memory. His eyes widened behind his sunglasses, and his jaw dropped. “Cleveland,” he whispered softly, going suddenly cold.

“Yes,” Burt replied simply. “Cleveland.”

Alvin shuddered. The incident in Cleveland had been bad, really bad. He and Devon had managed to escape the trap Denton’s men had set for them, losing two of their number in the process. He had been pissed. Enraged. Not merely content with getting away, Alvin turned his gaze on one of the soldiers, catching him off guard. He’d decided to teach Denton ‘a lesson’, and using the soldier like a puppet, he’d wiped out the remainder of the men sent to capture them. One of them, the man he now recognized as the sandy-haired man in front of him, had, at the time, managed to take out their compromised agent, only to find Alvin staring down at him, an assault rifle pointed at his face. He’d begged, he’d pleaded for his life, but Alvin had felt no desire to show mercy, wanting to send Denton a clear message. He’d fired, the powerful gun lurching violently in his teenaged hands. The bullets had hit the mark, taking the agent down, as well as hitting a nearby propane gas line. The entire building exploded, and he and Devon had barely managed to escape with their lives. He’d turned back, once, while escaping, to watch the building burn, confident that no one else had survived.

Apparently, he had been wrong.

“Ah, so you DO remember,” Bert replied grimly. “That makes this all easier, I suppose. You’re coming with us, kid. Mr. Denton is very anxious to meet you, and we promised to deliver you and your friends to him.” He gestured to his two helpers. “Tie him up, and gag him.”

Alvin sighed deeply, closing his eyes, seemingly in resignation. In reality, his mind was working away frantically, trying to reach the girls. No good—they’d all been pumped with enough tranquilizers to keep them out for hours. He felt strong hands touch his wrists, pulling them behind him. He kept his eyes closed, listening, taking in their thoughts, trying to judge the moment perfectly. He’d only have one shot.

“Hey, Nick, hand me your cuffs,” the man holding Alvin’s wrists said.

“Hey, no names,” Nick replied, tossing the handcuffs to his companion. “You know the rules.”

“Zip it, you guys,” Burt barked out. “Keep your minds on the job at hand, alright?”

“Oh, come on,” the man replied, catching the items, locking the first one across Alvin’s nonresisting wrist. “The others are out cold, and it doesn’t matter if the kid knows our names or not. Where he’s going, that information won’t be doing him any go—FUCK!”

At that moment, Alvin jerked free, pulling hard, jerking up his free hand to snatch off his sunglasses. Bert reacted faster than the others, raising his gun, squeezing off a shot. Alvin read the thought, however, had expected it, and jerked hard with his cuffed hand, pulling the surprised mercenary into his line of fire. “Urk!” he gasped, sinking to his knees as the fast acting drug sucked him swiftly into unconsciousness.

The second soldier, Nick, having recovered from the shock, brought his own gun up, but Alvin was already moving. Swinging wildly, Alvin tried for a punch. He missed, but the unfastened cuff scored a hit, lashing out like a miniature dagger, raking the merc across the face. Screaming in pain, he dropped his gun, and clutched at his bleeding face, as the boy rushed by, heading for the doorway. Still reading Burt’s thoughts, he ducked, just as another muffled shot rang out, striking the doorframe less than an inch above his head. The door stood, less than a foot away, seeming so close, and yet so far. Inches away. He was going to make it.

“Charlie no! Don’t!” Burt yelled out suddenly.

BANG! “Die, you SONOFABITCH!”

Alvin stopped short, shocked, stunned at the sudden pain in his chest. A tall, dark haired man, dressed likewise in battle fatigues, stood just outside the doorway, a smoking gun pointed straight at him. A hot wet sensation flooded him, and his strength seemed to evaporate. Wide eyed in surprise, Alvin fell to the floor.

But... I never sensed him coming... he thought in disbelief as darkness closed in on him. Resistor... damned Resistors... Fuck ‘em all...

Burt watched the boy fall, relief and anger fighting for dominance within him. “Charlie, you damned mutherfucker!” he snarled, making his way to the door. “I told you NOT to shoot! I told you to wait in the FUCKIN’ van!”

“Yeah, well lucky for you that I decided not to,” he replied hotly. “You almost let the little fucker escape! Damn, Burt, can’t you even handle one fucking little kid by yourself? I mean, its not as if he had any help this time!”

“FUCKER!” Burt cried, lunging suddenly, grabbing Charlie’s gun arm. The younger man struggled, until Burt savagely twisted his wrist. With a cry, Charlie dropped the gun, then staggered back, clutching his wrist. He opened his mouth to protest, only to fall back as Burt decked him one, nearly cracking his jaw. Standing above him, huffing, glaring, Burt shook his head in disgust.

“You little shit,” he said after a moment. “I have reason to hate these kids more than you EVER will! That kid and hid friends took out my old squad, shot me and left me for dead, and blew up the fucking building we were in. I survived, but I was all messed up, and by the time I had recovered, my old lady had decided she’d had enough. I lost my wife and kids, hell I lost my FACE to these bastards! If there’s anyone on earth with a grudge against these kids, it’s yours truly. But even I wouldn’t simply shoot him down on cold blood!”

He sighed. “Let me put it to you another way. It’s unprofessional.” He reached down and grabbed Charlie by the throat, pulling him back to his feet. “More importantly, fuckhead, we were paid to bring these two boys and their friend in to Mr. Denton—alive, dammit! So far we managed to catch one of the three, one of them has skipped town, and you just killed the third one! Now what do you think our employer is going to say about that?”

Charlie frowned, considering. Rubbing his jaw, he replied. “Okay, so he’ll be pissed. But its not as if we failed to deliver, right? He already has one of the twerps. We can still come out of this looking good if we find the one that skipped town.”

Fucking moron, Burt thought dimply. It’s not as if we hadn’t spent the past three or so years trying to find them here in the first place! No, now that the kid knows we’re looking for him, he’s going to lay low. I bet he’ll stay as far away from anything having to do with us or Mr. Denton as he can get.

* * *

Devon cursed quietly, resisting the urge to break something. The scattered stack of papers around him were useless, telling him less than he already knew. Financial reports, equipment requisition papers, economic growth outlook charts—all worthless. Damn, damn, damn! All this, and nothing I can use! Nothing that tells me where Denton might be, or where he might have taken Shanna... nothing here but a bunch of damned invoices... He frowned, pausing over one page with a list of names and cash amounts. A name caught his eye: Russ Tolverson.

Hmmm. Russ. Now who do I know by that name? Closing his eyes, he briefly ran through his memories—

A voice in his head, and the image of a tall man, dressed in navy blue, being pelted with shoes by Maxine. OWWW! Fuck... she’d throwing shoes! Dammit Russ, tranq that bitch! C’mon, we... oh shit!! Security! FUCK!! Let’s get out of here! Abort! Abort this goddamn fiasco! Abort!

—and gasped in recognition. AH! I get it now... this is a payoff to the mercs hired to try and capture us! I remember the names of the two Norms, Jake Stimpson, and Frank Tolger. Lessee... Charlie Anderson, and Burt Maxwell, yeah... I know those names as well. Both of them are on the list, too. Can’t be a coincidence. Yeah, then the other names on the list must be the guys they sent after Alvin and Shanna! Now, he had to resist the urge to cheer. Alright! Yeah! It’s not much, but its a lead. I can use this invoice and list of names to track down a couple of those mercs, and use them to find Denton, and Shanna. Taking the paper, he folded it into his pocket, and rose to his feet.

Not caring about the mess, he moved to the door, when the doorknob turned. “...dunno where I could have left it,” the young brunette grumbled, opening the door, stepping inside. “It has to be here somewhere. I was cleaning this floor when I last had—EEEP!! WH... WHO the HELL are YOU?” Glancing around the room, seeing the mess, she scowled. “And WHAT are you doing in Mr. Denton’s room?”

“Ah, shit!” Devon groaned. “This is not turning out to be a good day after all.”

A second voice sounded behind him before he could reach up for his sunglasses. “What is it, Maria? Who’s in there?”

“Call security, Mrs. Proctor,” Maria, the maid, replied, backing slowly towards the door. “Better yet, contact Mr. Denton’s office. We have an intruder!”

Damn. Trouble. The other one’s out of range from my stare. Looks like I really stepped in it now. Al, ol’ pal, where are you when I need you?

* * *

Karen MacDonald sighed softly in relief. I was beginning to think he’d NEVER leave! For all his talk of trust and cooperation, Alex isn’t one to let someone else take the reigns from him on anything he’s involved with. Walking over to the main computer console, she activated the startup routines. Scanning through the data scrolling across the monitors, she smirked. But I have to admit, he does good work.

The door opened, and a young brunette scientist in a white lab coat walked in. She paused, seeing Karen sitting down in front of the console. “Dr. MacDonald?” she asked, confused. “What are you doing in here? I thought—”

“Control queue: seven-four-tango-alpha-sigma-three-epsilon,” Karen barked out, glaring at the intruder.

Rhonda Daniels gasped as a wave of sudden dizziness rocked her. Her eyes opened wide, and a soft sight escaped her lips as an image flashed deep in her mind—two soft yellow eyes, glowing, burning in her mind’s eye, dissolving away her will. Her clipboard slipped from her slackened fingers, clattering unnoticed to the ground.

“Drone,” Karen fired again, returning her attention to the monitors, “state your designation and purpose.”

Rhonda’s posture straightened. “I am Pleasure Drone Zero-Two-Two,” she replied in a flat emotionless voice, “formerly research assistant Rhonda Jane Daniels. Prior to my rebirth by the Goddess, I was assigned the duty of technical coordinator of BioLab Six under Doctor Alexander Bradford. During my ‘off’ state, I continue to assume this role, fulfilling my duties as coordinator; however, once I receive my trigger phrase I return to my true state as a Pleasure Drone. My purpose is to serve the Goddess, and by extension, Pleasure Drone designated Zero-Zero-One: the Goddess’ Servant, Karen MacDonald.”

“Good. Very good.” Typing rapidly for several seconds, Karen finally rose from her feet. “Drone Zero-Two-Two, it is nearly the time to arrange for our Goddess’ ascension. However, there still remain a few obstacles in our way. As long as she remains here within this facility, the Goddess is still vulnerable. I have convinced Mr. Denton to allow us to grant our great Goddess the freedom she so graciously deserves, but we still have many obstacles. I have opened most of my staff to the Glory of our Goddess’ truth, but there are many more here that have not been Enlightened... people that will try to contain her, possibly harm her. So, we must be very cautious.”

Pleasure Drone Zero-Two-Two merely stood there silently. Drone Zero-Zero-One had triggered her Program mode, and though she fully agreed with her assessment of the situation, in her current state her mind was empty, and ready to accept the will of her Goddess, unable to respond in any way unless directly instructed. Karen knew this, but she preferred to speak to the drones in a more personal way when possible.

“You are to continue with your current assignment,” Karen continued, “to continue to portray the role of your former self, Rhonda Daniels, and to bring the unenlightened to me privately so they can be shown The Way. Again, we must be cautious. It is imperative that no one suspect what is happening, at least not until our Goddess has been freed.”

Karen sighed softly, tapping the Enter key one last time. Sliding out of her chair, she moved to the door once more, making sure no one was around. Finally, she walked back to the mesmerized girl. “Now, to the reason you are here. Drone Zero-Two-Two, you are to assist me. In order to convince Mr. Denton and the other unenlightened that the Goddess can function as they wish, I will need to be able to establish a direct link between my mind and the Mind of our Goddess. To help Her pass their tests, I must be able to communicate with Her, without anyone noticing. Therefore, I must install a neuro-interface module within my brain. I cannot do this procedure myself, therefore you will perform the procedure on me.” Sliding out of her clothes, the lovely blonde walked over to the chamber, where a large glass tube awaited. Climbing up, she quickly fitted herself with the harness, sliding the IV, probes, and tubes into place.

“Drone Zero-Two-Two, begin the procedure,” she said before sliding the breathing tube into her mouth.

“Acknowledged,” Rhonda replied listlessly, moving robotically towards the control panel. Keying in the sequence she’d performed countless times before, the mesmerized research assistant started the program, sliding the glass tube back into place, and sealing the top. Bluish-green gel began to fill the tube, and Karen shuddered slightly at the cold feeling as the ooze began to pool at her feet. She wiggled her bare toes as the goo slowly rose above them, trying to work past the tingling pins-and-needles sensation. The goo slid up her ankles, then up her lower calves, numbing her body as it slowly worked its way up.

A moment of panic struck Karen as the fluid covered her mouth, and for the briefest instance she fought to get free. The fear passed, however, as she continued to breath normally from the air tubes, and she chastened herself for her fear, and her momentary disloyalty to her Goddess’ will. She was nothing, after all, but a servant, a tool to be used in whatever way her Goddess wished. It didn’t matter if she died or not; had her Goddess commanded her to drown herself she would have done so, and happily.

Oh, my Goddess, Karen begged silently as the fluid finally filled the tube completely, let this act prove my love and devotion to You! Let these machines melt my mind, and reform it into the perfect tool for Your use! Let it erase the last of my doubts and fears, and leave me completely open and willing and obedient to You, to anything You desire of me!

A sudden sharp pain penetrated her thoughts just then, as several sharp needles penetrated Karen’s skull. Rhonda keyed the next sequence of the procedure, and a thick silvery liquid began to pump through the lines directly into her brain. The pain ceased almost instantly, and had she been able to manage the movement, Karen would have gasped. A tingling sensation filled her head, filling her mind, as the fluid began to soak into her grey matter. Her thoughts slowed to veritable crawl, and her vision darkened. Or, more accurately, silvered. Sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch... all sensation vanished, leaving her mind completely cocooned within itself, all thoughts removed, leaving her completely empty... except for an image, two glowing yellow eyes.

Tiger eyes.

* * *

Alex Bradford stared, transfixed, at the picture on his laptop monitor. Fast forwarding, he watched just as awestruck as the naked blonde emerged from the now empty glass tank, removed the tubes and wires from herself, redressed, and left his laboratory. Shaking his head in confusion, he shut down the program and closed his laptop. “Damn. I’d thought she was acting a bit strange lately,” he said softly after a while, “but I never suspected anything like that.”

Briefly, he considered his options. Karen MacDonald was undisputedly following her own agenda now. He’d suspected her of using the lab research and materials for her own selfish purposes, imagining her trying to create her own little lesbian sex-slave harem on the side. Truth be told, he’d briefly considered doing that himself; his sex life was currently as sterile as the lab he worked in. Karen using the process on herself, however, made no sense whatsoever.

Why flood your brain with liquid crystal? At best, you replace the organic cells of your brain with silicon, with only a slight loss in memory and cognitive skills. At worst, you completely lobotomize yourself. So... why do it in the first place?

If he informed Denton, the old man would have a conniption fit. They were too close to the wire now for any major personnel changes, and any major problems that delayed the final presentation to the Pentagon brass were likely to have serious legal and financial repercussions. No, he decided, better to hold onto this little tidbit of information for now, pocket it away, until the opportunity arises for him to use it. He started his car and drove out of the underground parking garage.

The vibration of his cell phone caught his attention. He tapped his Bluetooth and spoke. “Dr. Bradford here.”

“It’s me.”

Alex swerved, nearly crashing his car. “Sir! Um, I mean... um, is the line secure?”

“We’re secure, Bradford,” the voice replied calmly. “You can talk normally.”

Calming his racing heartbeat, he replied. “I was planning to call you with my weekly report once I arrived back home. I had to stay behind a bit later than usual tonight... a bit of inter-office espionage it seemed.”

“Anything that would affect the project.”

Alex considered. “Not that I can see. One of the other researchers seems to have her own agenda, but nothing that would sabotage the project, or interfere with my own agenda in any way.”

Silence. Then, “You know how I feel about unknown factors, Bradford.”

“Yes, sir, I know. But, Mr. Davis, sir, I think we can use this to our advantage. Once we know the process works, and we have a working field test, it will be a simple matter for me to send your office a copy of all the data, infect Denton’s files with a virus, and destroy the written records so he can’t duplicate the process. I was a bit concerned on how to do so without casting suspicion on myself... but Karen MacDonald just made herself the perfect scapegoat. I can make this work.”

A deep sigh. “Just so long as nothing leads back to TransCorp when the dust settles.”

Alex nodded. “Believe me, Sir. Once I’m done, we’ll have all the research data, Karen MacDonald will be left holding the bag, and James Denton will be left, beaten, broken, and ruined. Just like you wished.”

((to be continued...))