The room was quiet and bland. There was a table and a door. That was it. No windows, barely any lighting, and a stack of files and an ashtray on the table. Seth Dancer was escorted in by two agents in suits. They looked like feds. Seth saw the ashtray and clapped his hands together. It had been a long flight.

It was time for a smoke.

As he lit his cigarette, he noticed the files were in alphabetical order. After finding his, he decided he could open it. After all, his name was on it. What he read inside it disturbed him.

"The viral contamination has escalated to a serious threat. Your target is Doctor Jan Erkovitch, biochemist. Attached is a picture. Your objective is to go in, obtain a sample of the virus as well as an anti virus, and eliminate the target. Payment will be in standard US dollars, equaling 2.5 million."

Flipping through the pictures, he almost vomited.

On in particular was especially sickening. It showed a girl, no older than 11, being torn apart by a group of 7 individuals, and being eaten. The individuals were covered with blood, and each had the same mark on them near a major vein.

It was a hexagonal burn with needle marks on the outside.

He shut the file and looked up. He couldn't look anymore.


"Why did I apply for this job?"

The hallway screamed "sterile." White walls, white floor, white ceiling, even that hospital smell to it. He, a certain mercenary named Lucas Jackson, had seen hundreds of places just like this. All the same. Probably for a reason, but he never could figure it out.

Even the same generic agent-types leading him down the hall. You'd think they'd realize that I could find my way after all this time, he thought to himself. He made it to their destination, generic secret room, no windows, single table.

One of his old partners was there already, and seeing he was smoking a cigarette, he lit up too.

"How's it hanging, Dancer? What have we got this..."

His voice trailed off as he flipped through the gruesome photographs of mutilated body after mutilated body. Absolutely disgusting, and he said so.

"I mean, two and a half million...it's a lot of money. I guess that's why we keep on keepin' on, ya feel me, Dancer?"

But he didn't quite believe it as much as he seemed to. But Luke Jackson wasn't one to let fear show. Never let them see you sweat...

"Well, hello Jackson. Didn't expect to see you for a while. I thought you ran off with enough money after Peru. It's good to see you again, friend." He exhaled a long stream of smoke. "You ever wondered why these rooms are always sterile and guarded. I mean, do they really think we don't know where we are? You can hear a subway. We're probably right under Brooklyn." Seth was obviously rambling to try to hide how shaken he was at the pictures. "It looks gruesome, but 2 and a half mil isn't a price to just shake off. You think we'll get to meet the man behind the money this time?"

Seth Dancer was highly disturbed because of one thing: as a combat medic in the US Army, he'd seen what wounds kill men. And the assailants in these pictures were beyond mortally wounded. And they were eating people. It's like he stepped into an old b-slasher movie.

Seth looked at her as she told him to put the cigarette out. "Why put an ashtray here if we can't smoke? Okay, you're the boss. You pay me. And as for others, I have no clue. Didn't you hire them?" He and Jackson snuffed out their cigarettes in the tray. Dancer turned in his seat to face the woman. "Okay, so we sign here, here, and here? Fair enough." He scribbled his name on the aforementioned lines. "Me and Jackson will depart for the area at 0800. If any others arrive, then good. If not, then we'll have to be extremely creative to stay alive."

Seth stood up and looked her in the eye.

"I do have two questions. One, are you supplying us firearms or do we bring our own. I'm sure both of us are armed at this moment. And two...when can we smoke?"

Dancer stood up and paced around the table, standing beside the logistics worker. "Now, I figure it would be best if we secured an lz about 5 miles from the site. We can trek our way to the target laboratory, and we'd still be far enough away to where he won't suspect us coming." Seth pulled on his shoulder holster. Remembering the goons at the front took his handgun, he sighed. He sat back down next to Jackson, and said "Man, I feel naked without at least one gun." Just as he finished, the agents came in and set two 9 mm pistols on the table. Each came with a fully loaded clip, and they set two more clips for each gun. The guns were all black, glock models, and had no insignias that could be linked to an organization. This whole mission was to be incognito.

Seth picked up one of the guns and put it in his shoulder holster. He slid his two magazines into his pockets.

"So, are we done here?"

Seth liked this. Not only would he make plenty of money, but it would also become detrimental for his continued existence for him to smoke. He smiled at Agnes. "You may be a cold bitch, but I think I like you."

Standing up, he looked at his travel voucher. "You guys can afford paying us beaucoup bucks, but you can't give us a first class ride to Finland? Man, that's cheap."

He tapped Jackson on the shoulder. "Hey man, let's get out of here. I've got a little bit to catch up with you about after Peru."

As the two strolled out of the facility, they heard a loud grunt from around the corner. Rushing to the noise, they took in a priceless scene.

A large man in a tuxedo outfitted with a delicate red carnation was engaged in a fist fight with the facility guards.

"I told you...I'm not giving them to you..."

"Sir, you may have been called here, but we are authorized to use deadly force, now hand over your firearms and allow us to escort you into the facility."

One right hook took out the sharply dressed guard, and before the others could fire, another was in a head lock, with his own weapon against his temple.

"Shoot, and he goes with you..."

"Sir, I'm going to count to five..."

"Well, I'm going to count to three..."

Seth looked to Jackson, laughing.

"I think we found our other member."

He walked forward, and stood behind the man. Right after his second count, Seth grabbed the gun, swept a leg under the others, and put him on the ground. He handed the gun back to the agent, and patted the mans cheek. "Pleased to meet you, big guy. It's Seth Dancer, I'm the team leader for this operation. By the way, I like the suit."

The man stood up and dusted some gravel from his jacket.

"You got it dirty. He glared at Seth hostily for some time, before breaking out into hearty laughter... call me Mr. Colton!"

He adjusted the Carnation and extended a large hand toward Seth.

Seth was shaking Colton's hand as Agnes appeared. The lightning quick paper pushing was astounding. "I'd watch out for her man. I'll bet she can give a mean papercut."

Seth pulled out a key card to the motel room he'd rented out for the night.

"Hey, once you're done, meet us at the Plaza Hotel, room 210. I'll make sure we're all acquainted." He grabbed his own handgun from an agent, slid it into a shoulder holster, and grabbed a ragged field jacket from the other. He slid it over his white tee shirt, and motioned for Lucas to follow him.

"Let's get some food on the way out, man."

Colton lowered his thick sunglasses and watched as the women scurried out of sight.

"And who might that be..." he said, licking his lips.

In defiance he lit up a cigar and peered around the corner, seeing if could get another glimpse of the beatiful little woman who had just shoved a stack of papers into his hands.

He turned around and saw Seth and the other man walking away and shrugged. He hadn't heard what they said, he'd been to distracted.

He turned toward the agent holding his weapon and stared at him for a while.

"I'm sorry sir, but you can have these back when the mission is-"

He punched the man square in the jaw and collected his Desert Eagle...walking away slowly with a trail of cigar smoke whirring past his head.

After buying a hot dog from a street vendor, Seth looked at Luke. He'd been quiet lately, he wasn't sure why. Or, he may just be imagining it, due to paranoia caused by the gruesome mission details.

"Hey, Luke, you okay man?" He knew the answer would be I'm fine, the stoic nature of fighting men preventing them from letting on any weakness. That's just how it was.

While he hated to admit it, he liked Colton. He was rough but sophisticated. It was a nice blend. He wondered how much power the man kept behind his tux and carnation. He'd get a chance to find out soon enough.

Colton couldn't stop thinking about the swinging hips of the bookish beauty who'd pushed a massive pile of papers into his chest. He had a weakness for beautiful women, a weakness that was all to easy to exploit.

He racked his mind to remember the number of the Hotel room Seth had mentioned. He stood in front of the building eyeing the rooms.

It was either 210 or 120...he went with 120.

He moved up to the room and found it locked. Of course he had forgetten to get a card from Seth. No matter. He pulled out an EMP jammer from his bottomless jacket and passed it front of the door. The locked clicked open and he swung open the door.

A scream and a shoe flew out and both hit him stiffly in the face.

He slammed the door shut and tunred around, his head in his hand.

"Note to self," he said aloud, "remind your daughter to always wear a towel when she gets out of the shower..."

He moved away to room 210.

Jackson lit up another cigarette and exhaled.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just still a little shaken by those pictures. That's messed up. And I've SEEN some messed up stuff in my day, hell, we both have. But this...nothing like this.

He smiled slightly, trying to look cheerful.

"At least we get a paid vacation, huh?"

Colton passed the EMP Scanner in front of the room lock, and it clicked open. He swung the door in again and flinched at the invisible shoe that was about to hit him in the face.

Nothing.

'I really ought to knock more often...'

He stepped in and looked around. It appaeared the Federal Agents had been there already. There was recorder on the table.

"To my esteemed Workforce:

Your room has been prepared to federal standards. This will serve as you base of operations until we can more adequatley accomidate you in the facility. Until such time, we have applied some special upgrades to the room you are currently staying in. First and foremost, you will note that you are not checked in as yourselves. You are each under assumed names. Nextly, I would like to draw your attention to the rear of the appartment, where we have also rented the next room over, and connected the two. You will find a substantial library of information ranging from Proper Storage Techniques of Anti-Viruses to Zombie Movies...for research of course. Furthermore, your room has been wired with a series of hidden cameras. Should any of you tamper with evidence, or sabatoge this operation, we shall know. These cameras are set up in various location, monitering all surfaces of the apartment...yes even the beds. Don't get any funny ideas. We will contact you when more appropriate housing has been located. Until such time, you are to stay here. Thank you."

Colton frowned.

"Who the hell puts cameras looking at the bed...thats just messed up."

The recorder beeped. "This message will now self-destruct for security reasons."

"Haha...nice one guys...it wont really-"

BOOOM

The fire alarm went off.