Three levels up, in a flurry of fire, din, explosions, and shouts. Bullets whizzed past his head; flame throwers singed his hair; shrapnel from crudely constructed bombs streaked over his body as he hit the floor. The picture-commands from Molly came in swift sequence, showing him his next action before…
“Are you in?” “Give me some time, Clint. Even with these schematics, hacking into the Island’s systems takes time.” “Be careful. Just the survelliance system. Be gentle. Be invisible. Be—” “Be quiet,” Molly interrupted. “I’m just antsy. I’ve been sitting still too long. I gotta get moving.” Clint checked over…
“I shot him,” Molly said, her voice quiet. “I shot him.” The words had a ragged edge. Clint saw where this was going. He grabbed Molly by the shoulders, forced her to look directly into his face, away from the man she had shot, and spoke slowly. “Look at me….
Clint whirled around, gun ready, but he hesitated, not knowing what he might hit if he let the bullets fly. Not everything stored in the armory was stable. The man before him was thin, his face hidden in a cowl. He stood with his hands folded before him, a thin…
Clint stopped suddenly, backtracked, and took a different turn. “Clint,” Molly warned. “Trust me.” “I know where you’re going.” “I’m sure you do. Great minds think alike.” “You want to alert the whole Island to our presence?” “I can be stealthy.” “Like a hippo—” “Okay, that’s enough of that. We’ll…
The staircase was not a continuous unit; certain parts of the Island’s design had been encouraged by extreme caution bordering on paranoia. The single staircase that connected all floors seamlessly allowed an intruder to move between levels with ease, they the builders constructed the stairs so that each connected with…
The transition from unconsciousness to reality was confused, jarring, and unpleasant. “What? What?” he muttered. From his point of view, Molly had been screaming at him to come to for ages and eons, taking form after form in her eternal persistence. “Quiet,” she cautioned. “I wanted to let you rest…
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…