'A Vendetta.'
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DISCAIMER: Based on the work of the SUW, Metroanime, my own ideas and the ideas of Alan Moore and the Wachowskis.
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"'Remember, remember the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason and plot,  I see no reason why gunpowder treason  should ever be forgot. .'

That's a poem made in occasion for something the British called `Bonfire Night', when some revolutionary called Guy Fawkes  tried to blow up the British Parliament. He was caught and sentenced to the gallows before he could do it. Now, well, by today's standards, he would be a terrorist. In my line  of job I had done lots of things, but if Guy Fawkes was still alive today, or anybody tried to copy-cat him, I would probably be the guy sent to stop him. And stop him I would, since that's my mission, and I'm not fond of failing them.

I understand, however, the whole of his ideas of fighting, the whole `dying for freedom and your ideals' thing. I had had to send  men to their deaths, common and Ultras alike, for the sake of preserving my country's freedom. I will always remember their sacrifices, knowing that in other circumstances, I would have been the one doing them.

In my search for the whereabouts of Kasumi Tendo, it was to my luck that I found the man who had her. A man who was quite willing to kill -and die- for his ideas. It was not until later that I found out that one of them was to not Kasumi come to harm. Maybe he was out of his mind, but still he tried to protect her.

Funny thing… it all happened on a Fifth of November…"

-From the journals of George Winston III.

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PART 1: "Please allow me to introduce myself…"

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-Information Center, OZ Headquarters, Washington, DC.
-November 4, 10: 45 P.M.
-Alternate Universe SUW9843/LACR.

George Winston the Third, General in charge of the Ultra-Enhanced Project, yawned widely. It had been his second week running the show, and in the width of those two weeks, he shouldn't have had more than a handful of hours of sleep. He was accustomed to do it, however, since he commanded a lot of missions from this room, however, sleep was necessary for him.

The middle-aged General looked around the Information Center and then down at the file on his station. The file gave the last whereabouts of Kasumi Tendo (code-named Rising Sun) and the latest intelligence reports from the local agencies and Jade Garden. She had just disappeared from her bedroom one morning, two weeks ago, without a trace of any kind. He had sworn to find her, and so sent everybody to search for something –ANYTHING- that could tell of her
whereabouts.

They had mages, psychics, 24-hour satellite surveillance of Nerima, Tokyo and key locations in China, Mexico and America. No dice. They had intelligence agents pull all stops. Again, no dice. They even feared the worse and moved the Emperor, the President and key personnel from Jade Garden and OZ to safe areas, expecting a brainwashed Rising Sun to attack them any minute.

By his gut feeling, if they hadn't attacked with her a couple of days ago, they wouldn't do it. So he lowered the safety alert, but kept looking.

Because she was like a god-damned daughter to the General, damn her for being so saccharine sweet (but she made a damn good coffee).

He tried to stay awake, but his eyes were drooping and losing focus. No dice, he was going to sleep out this watch.

He told his secretary that he was going to be on his office, and not be disturbed, and logged off his station before going away without disturbing the crew. The office of the General had a comfy couch and was sealed away from the world-deep inside OZ HQ.

So when he closed the door behind him, he thought he was completely alone.

He gave out a yelp of surprise when a black bag came over his head, and then he breathed some strange fumes.

Before losing consciousness, he heard a girl giggle.

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-Unknown Location.
-November 4, 11:55 P.M.
-Unknown Alternate Universe.

George Winston woke up on the ground, on his back, devoid of the black bag. The stars shown high over him, framed by ancient-looking buildings. Something was digging on his back something awful, probably a stone.

He rose from the ground with a groan, and considering he still felt woozy, he considered that whatever was used to put him out of it had worn off shortly ago. Whoever had kidnapped him, they had gone thru all of OZ' security undetected, both to go in and get him out, and they had just left him in the middle of an alley?

/They've got to be jackasses./, Winston thought. /Okay, check. I'm unarmed, in some unknown alley. There's no one watching me, no interrogation, no demands being given to me. They snatched me with ease, and why the Hell they would let me…/ The answer came to him with the force of a sledgehammer. /They're
going to play with me, huh? Well, I'm not planning to give them a nice play./

He walked out of the alley into a dark, dreary, lone street. There was no-one around, so he just picked a direction and walked that way. /What could be their demands? If they know I'm with OZ, they might demand something to them. But by policy, I'm expendable-hell, I hammered it into everybody on base. So they won't get anything from having me. Poor them./

Weird `whoosh'-like sounds came to his ears, like moving wind, even thru there was none. He had been around Ultras long enough to know what those `whoosh' sounds could come from. He looked up just in time to note two persons -one tall, one short- flying over him, their arms around their chests in a pose typical of Superman. If they could fly, then they had enough of an SA to splatter him all over the countryside without even trying….

He ran back into the alley, only for one of the two people to land in front of his path. She was a short girl with long legs, a perfect look-alike to that Tsukino girl, except that she was on an orange Karate outfit. She smiled evilly and said:Well, well, well. What do we have here?" "It must be a new plaything for us, courtesy of our Master.", someone said from behind of Winston. He turned to find a girl of the same size with blue hair, a near-perfect look-alike to Akane Tendo, wearing the same outfit. "Moh, but he's too old!", `Tsukino' said. "We won't get enough from him!" "Who cares?", the blue-haired girl said, an odd glint in her
eye "It's a gift from our Master. I say we use him `till he's useless." "Hai!", `Tsukino' said with glee. They both started to walk on Winston, ready to pounce on him…

"`If we are mark'd to die, we are enow to do our country loss'", a male voice said, "`and if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honour'". "Who's that?", `Tsukino' said, turning around. The other girl did likewise, forgetting about Winston. The General watched over `Tsukino's' shoulder as a man walked out of the shadows. Winston noted that the man was rather short, with an ankle-length cloak, a tall-wide-brimmed hat, a face that had seem a few too many beatings and a pair of eyes framed by glasses.

He walked towards them, opening his cloak, letting them see that he dressed in Victorian clothes with a black wide belt and gray jacket, boots and trousers. A set of knives were attached to the wide belt. He continued his speech as he went, a low voice with an underlying growl: "`What feats he did that day: then shall our names. Familiar in his mouth as household words the king-'"

"`Henry V'?", the blue-haired girl said at last, almost laughing "THAT is supposed to scare us?!? We're Sailorjin, pal, and we have heard ALL kinds of speeches! You should have quoted something scarier." The man just kept walking towards them, either not listening or not caring, still talking: "`Herald, save thou thy labour; come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald: they shall have none.'"

He was now very close. `Tsukino' took two steps toward him.

"`Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones. Herald, save thou thy labour.'"

"All right, pal, that's enough-", `Tsukino' said, reaching for the man's shoulder. The man grabbed `Tsukino's' forearm and faster than Winston could blink, he had pulled out one of the knives and stabbed her once, then twice, very rapidly. `Tsukino' coughed blood and dropped to the ground, the handle of the knife protruding from her chest. "`They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints! Which if they have as I shall leave of them, shall yield them little.'"

The blue-haired girl vanished from behind Winston and re-appeared in front of the man with a `whoosh!' and an afterimage, throwing a super-fast punch. The man twisted out of the way and drew another knife, stabbing her in the side of the neck. The girl dropped forward, and Winston gagged when he heard the girl's bloody gurgling. The man stood over her, watching as she died, an impassive look on his face. "`I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well: thou never shalt hear
herald any more.'", the man ended almost solemnly, turning towards the General. He gave the middle-aged man a reverence and straightened up.

"So she says. I swear, my dear sir, that these girls know not the meaning of `culture' so much as they know how to smack somebody.", he said then.

"W-who are you?", Winston said. The man lifted a finger and said: "Uh, but that is an important question, isn't it? But usually the question of `who' is followed with `what', and `what' I am is not important right now. If `what' I am is not important right now, then `who' I am is equally non-important."

"Then what the hell were they?", Winston said. The military part of him recognized that the man had a faint English accent, and he couldn't recall Luthor or any important enemy faction having English operatives-or dressing this gaudily. The man looked down at the dead girls again. "They were -for the sake of not insulting the dead- merely the followers of a more devious mastermind. His thrall, so to speak."

That definitely attracted Winston's attention. "So there's more of them?" "That, my dear sir, is not a hard guess.", the man said. "So moving from this location is in order."

"I suppose", Winston said in a deadpan voice "You one of them?"

"No, sir, I am not. As a matter of fact, Miss Tendo told me to come."

THAT drew Winston's attention. He decided to see if `right now' had passed, just in case "Who are you?"

 "Ahh, I almost forgot that now's the time for introductions. I do not have a real name, but you can simply call me `Hackett'.", the man said, bowing towards Winston, complete with taking off his hat.

/Oooooo-kay…/ "Are you crazy?""That, my dear sir, is for you to decide."

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PART 2: "I'm good with percussion instruments, mostly…"

-Unknown Location.
-November 5, 12:05 A.M.
-Unknown Alternate Universe.

Winston and Hackett walked along the street, the shorter man in front. Winston kept recalling the scene in the alley, but there was nothing about the man that could make him think that the man was an Ultra. But, although he had killed the two girls with quickness, the same result could have been achieved with lots of time in the business. He had seen a few Secret Service agents who could take the fight to low-powered Ultras thanks to Soun Tendo's classes, so he wasn't impressed by this.

"Where are we going?", he asked at last. Hackett stopped for a moment, searching the skies, before moving on. "Someplace safe.", Hackett said. "I believe it is best for you to not be seen for the following hours." "Well… where in the hell is that `safe place' you're talking about?" "Over there.", Hackett said, pointing. It a small two-story building, a music shop that hadn't seen customers for sometime. There was a lot of dust covering the windows, so much that Winston couldn't see inside. If he couldn't, the enemy might not be able as well. "Yeah, looks safe." Hackett didn't said another word. He just walked towards the door
and fidgeted with it for a couple of seconds before it opened. "Sir."

"Quick lockpicking, son."

"It is the expedience of necessity, I'm afraid."

Winston filed that in for further analysis as he sat on a drum case, analyzing Hackett's motions. The smaller man looked thru every  window before moving several cases of instruments and scraps of cloth to better cover the view towards the inside, doing it all quickly and efficiently. And then he sat on a tiny stool that was part of some dust-filled portable orchestra manager's set.

And then they waited. It was a long wait, in the utter dark and silence. Hackett didn't move, didn't blink, didn't even seem to breathe as he stared thru the few the few holes on the makeshift barricade, waiting for anything to come thru it.

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-November 5, 2:02 A.M.

Winston was used to be sitting behind a desk with a computer terminal in a room full of people who chattered constantly for all reasons. The silence was already starting to get to him by the first hour, and by the start of the second, he had enough. He had to know something -ANYTHING- about the situation.

"Why did they come for me?", he asked. Hackett turned his head towards Winston.
"
Beg you pardon, sir?"

"Those girls weren't there to retrieve me or watch over me, nor to interrogate me. They were there to use me as some plaything.", Winston said "Was I the target? What did they wanted?" "You were the target, sir, but there was no strategic rationale behind your kidnapping. They chose your name from the employee roster fully at random.", Hackett said, the voice missing some of its accent.

"Was there any pattern at all? Did they want information, protocols, access codes or something?"

"The pattern there is, sir, is that Rising Sun came from that universe. They don't need any of that because… well… they're already deep inside it."

"OZ?"

"The US government. The Japanese government. The Chinese government. The United Nations. They're on all the places where it matters, until they grow bored and go somewhere else."

"Who are they?"

"The elf's harem.", Hackett said, almost disgusted. "And how do you know all of this?" "Because you're not the first guy he screws over."

That was all that Winston managed to get from him.

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-November 5, 3:40 A.M.

Winston woke up to Hackett's hand shaking his shoulder. /I must have snoozed off/, he thought, stifling a yawn. "What is it?" Hackett raised a hand (the military hand signal for `wait'), and then pointed outside. Winston followed his hand to note that there were a couple of girls outside the store. They both wore the same
karate outfit as the two girls in the alley, but one was a blonde with long hair, and the other was a brunette with a massive ponytail.

Winston straightened himself on the case, making a couple of batons roll from under him and clank on the carpeted ground. It was a very slight sound, so light that Winston almost missed it even in the absolute silence of the store. He saw, however, when both girls turned towards the store as if they had heard it clearly, and then after a quick exchange of words, raised their hands, palms open, towards the store.

"Oh, bugger.", Hackett said, hitting the deck and pulling Winston along. A split second after, the front of the store was destroyed by a massive explosion, the kind which Winston associated with a tank's main gun, or a lot of explosives. His ears rang and the fumes were getting to his eyes and lungs, but he still could see, thru the massive smoke plumes, that the hands of the girls were smoking.

They came thru the window, floating a couple of inches off the ground and smiling big-time, like foxes inside a henhouse. "Uh-uh-uh, you naughty boy, you got away from us.", the blonde said."And you got help from a man who killed our sisters, the mean, mean bastard.", the brunette said "You will tell us where he is, or else…""What the hell do you mean, where is he? He's right beside… me…". Winston looked all around himself from his position on the floor, but Hackett was nowhere to be found. He turned again towards the floating girls, who were creating large balls of light between their hands "Wait-wait up, dammit! I'm sure we can reach an agreement."

Both girls looked at each other before saying "NAAAH!" and winding up like pitchers. Winston's life passed in front of his eyes.

An extremely loud crash signaled when a pair of Frisbee-thrown cymbals hit them in the head, and they plummeted to the ground. Winston looked on as Hackett (who had somehow managed to sneak into position) grabbed a large drum and smashed their heads with it. Repeatedly.

Hackett made sure that they were dead and then moved towards him, wiping is hands with a handkerchief that he had pulled from a trouser pocket. "Are you all right, sir?" "Yeah….", Winston said, looking at the corpses. That's when something hit him. "How did you do that?"

"Do what, sir?"

"Sneak from right beside me without me noticing it. I never noticed you moving."

"No-one ever does, sir.", was Hackett's answer."And why in the HELL didn't you STABBED them?"

"Oh, that? I'm dreadfully sorry, but the idea hadn't crossed my mind."

/`Hadn't crossed my mind'? He kills four girls without even flinching and the idea just `didn't crossed his mind'?/ "Are you stupid, son?"
"I'm smart enough for this job, sir, if that's your concern."

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PART 3: "They created a monster".

-`The Bunker'.
-November 5, 4:02 A.M.
-Asgard, Alternate Universe 112092.

Washu Hakubi sat on the control room to the Stargate, staring at her holographic laptop's monitor. It had been several hours since her Hellsoldier walked thru the Gate, packing nothing but that cosplay costume and the knives it carried. It had been too much of a rush on this particular emergency call for him to pack something heavier.Of course, she knew Roger like the back of her hand. She had had a heavy hand in the project that developed him, and so far, he hadn't
let her down in any of his missions.

She clicked on the file icon of her laptop and then on one small file folder, labeled `Project: Hellsoldier archives'. Then she started to read.

()()()()()()()()()

"RAMCH 3, 39094, 10:35 P.M., Local Asgardian Time.

I had been called by Sylia to announce of the authorization of `Project: Hellsoldier'. She dropped the announcement on my lap, saying both of the authorization and the fact that she went and retrieved a candidate without going thru pre-screening. Recently deceased, double homicide in Las Vegas. She wouldn't give me more information.

All right, then. I'll have to get to her laboratory to see what can I do.

ADDENDUM (11:00): What a piece of crap! The man's body was as close to useless as I can think of. It was shot, stabbed, burnt and stomped flat. There was nothing we could do for it, as the project was originally planned, but Sylia wanted the guy functional and lethal in 90 days, 30 less than projected.
Seems like I'm gonna have to pull a miracle out of my backside again…"

"RAMCH 9, 39094, 4: 15 A.M., LAT.

Couldn't sleep last night. I was checking the neural re-wiring we're going to install. It was easy to do on a living person with nanotechnology, just grab the nerves that were already there and modify them.The man's nerves were completely fried with an electric attack, and had to be completely remade from scratch with the enhancement  included. (Addendum: following scans exposed it was a lightning spell).

Aside from that, I'd have to rewrite the programming of the neurophages Sylia gave to me so they would do their `neuron-eating'  routine a little faster, especially since we're racing against the decomposition of the subject's brain, as well."

"RAMCH 13, 39094, 11:00 P.M., LAT.

Ninth hour since the neurophages were administered. So far, they seem to be doing their job as programmed. If everything goes right, in about 20 more hours there'll be enough replaced brain matter to start with basic information downloads-nothing combat-related yet."

"RAMCH 19, 39094, 2:59 P.M.

Fourth day since we switched the neurophages to a more slow pace of replacement. Subject has ended the basic information downloads and we're ready to start with combat virtual reality training.

(ADDENDUM (3:40): They used WHAT for the training system? Mobile Infantry Cap Troopers?

Just goes to show that they want an *expendable* unit…)"

"RAMCH 29, 39094, 12:00 A.M.

Subject is 12 hours away from ending combat training, and all imperative implants have been added. Subject is to be tested following his unplugging.
Hopefully he will come back to the lab in one piece. Damn Sylia, speeding up my procedures…"

"RAMCH 30, 39094, 3:15 P.M.

The test was simple, to say the least. The subject was to go undercover on an AD Police raid and eliminate a supernaturally-empowered target. He did so with the expected results.

Subject is to undergo another round of training and we'll add the remaining implants on the meantime."

"LLIAB 20, 1:30 P.M.

All remaining implants have been added and the bugs of the first ones have been ironed to my best ability. I suppose that when the subject leaves the training, we'll see what he is now able to do."

"LLIAB 25, 3:45 A.M.

10 hours since the subject left VR training, and he immediately locked himself on my library, reading all my comic books and watching all my movies. Damn him.

(ADDENDUM (5:30 P.M): Finally, I managed to go thru his barricade. I found him (still without a face, he's downright horrifying) reading my Alan Moore-autographed copy of `V for Vendetta'. Those artificial eyes didn't unglued themselves from that damn book for any of the time I was inside, and everything was in a neatness that only screamed `military')."

"LLIAB 29, 9:10 P.M.

The subject asked us to refer to him as `Roger Hackett'. It is to my understanding that it was the name he used back on Las Vegas, and it was most definitely a fabrication.

But there was a conviction to his request that gave me the shivers, that's all. Maybe we came in too fast on the procedures…"

"OYM 2, 11:30 P.M.

Hackett appeared on my doorstep with his clothes soaked in blood, this twisted grin on his face. Two hours later, I found out about what he had done. Rumors abounded on the grapevine about a man who shot up an illegal bookie's business (the bookie, I must add, was one who specialized in `Running Man' Bets), and then murdered Sylia Stingray.  I must add right now that the Sylia he killed was not my `boss', but another…. A helper for the elf. He located one of the people who killed him and gave her the same coin.

The demonstration is still three weeks away. OMG, why do I think we created a monster…?"

()()()()()()()()()

It was a long three years ago, and Hackett had decided to bide his time after that first night. The formation of the Watchers was a few months after that, and some other things that happened, have driven  Hackett off that obvious trail of revenge. Kasumi and some other girls he had met gave him a reason to `be human', so to speak.

So why did she felt a chill on her spine when he walked into the Gate room wearing a costume of V? Lacking the Guy Fawkes mask, but maybe he didn't felt like needing it. /Even now, that guy's got a lot of twisted thing in his mind/.

She closed the file to see someone in the reflection, the red dot on the chest and lots of white… "Kasumi.", she said at last "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough.", the girl answered. "Where's Roger?"

"There was an emergency call, and all the other Watchers were already on mission, so he went. I'm sorry he had to run on you…."

"We were on a cosplay party when the call came out. Any details?"

"Some high-up military head just got snatched from one of those super-high-security bases and transferred to an alternate version of San Jose, Costa Rica. Roger went in there with only the clothes on his back."

"You mean the V costume?"

"Yup. Your boyfriend went in with the one-man revolution."
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Marco Antonio Salazar Matamoros
 marcoasalazarmAThotmail.com
More of Marco's fiction can be found at
 http://www.fanfiction.net/u/602586/