Molly continued to stare at him with an unfathomable expression. She looked disheveled, but not much worse for the wear. Actually, Clint thought she looked absolutely stunning, like something solid in a world of mirages. He didn’t much worry about the way her face continued to contort. He had been…
“Molly! Molly, listen to me! You need to tell me where you are!” Clint rummaged through the drawers of her lab desk looking for some clue. He had seconds before the Doctor’s assistants stormed in, guns blazing. Nothing. Or nothing he recognized in his frantic sweep. He glanced at the…
Clint glanced into the hallway. No one. It would have encouraged him to find three black tie operatives and Doctor Destructo himself waiting for him. What he feared more than an impossible task was one that should have been impossible but seemed not to be. A deep, almost subconscious vibration…
Clint took a moment to determine his location. In those precious seconds, he first heard Molly’s half-stifled sobs. They jerked him out of his focused momentum, and he almost forgot his situation. “I’m not dead,” he told her. But she couldn’t hear him. “I’m not dead yet,” he amended. They…
Clint skimmed across the water, his heavy craft slicing through the undulation of the waves. He guided the vehicle by his internal GPS, using the same code that alerted the whole world to his continued existence. Except now that he thought about it, even if Doctor Destructo’s men had managed…
Clint descended slowly through the water. He forced his eyes open despite the stinging salt. He had a sudden desire to see everything one last time. He flailed with all the effort he had, but it hardly disturbed the water. A certain peace came over him, not unlike the blue…
Taking a desperate breath, Clint dove beneath the water again, kicking fiercely. Self-preservation drove him downward into the water. These wouldn’t be discount thugs. Doctor Destructo ran a top-notch organization. Before the philosophical epiphany that had led him to a worship of the honed moment of chaos, he had been…
Clint left Conrad bobbing on the waves 50 miles off the Florida coast with an inflatable raft that had been stored in the sub’s emergency compartment. Clint didn’t worry much about him. If his people didn’t pick him up as soon as Clint was out of sight, Clint would retire…
Clint leaned with his back against the control panel, staring at Conrad Alimar unflinchingly. The cultist looked away. His fingers were tapping relentlessly against the arm of the chair; he didn’t seem to notice. Though Clint’s eyes were on Conrad, his mind was elsewhere. Partly, he was listening to Molly’s…
Clint jolted awake to the sound of soldiers shouting. He sat bolt upright, sprang to his feet, and took a defensive stance before realizing the sound was in his head. “Stand up! The Doctor wants to see you.” It took a moment to reorient himself. They were talking to Molly,…
Clint turned to the computer panels. They reminded him of the slick new Star Trek bridge controls. Funny, how Conrad and his Gaians claimed humanity had neglected its roots and still managed to create technology Silicon Valley would salivate over. His hand hovered over the touch screen, trying to make…
Skirting away from New York City, he headed south, drawing near the coastline and hoping to pick up a signal. It was best to keep moving if they had his location, and he had no access to anything faster. The boat was guzzling gas though. Molly hadn’t spoken for a…