Darkness...

    Blair awoke to find himself shackled to the iron headboard of his homemade bed. He looked around in the dank dim of wherever he was, but his captor was nowhere in sight... What the hell was that monster doing? He felt torn between his burning desire to learn all he could about this anachronistic Sentinel and the primal need for freedom. He pulled at the chains, but there was just enough slack for comfort, and not much else... He supposed Bobo felt that it would not behoove his training if he strangled himself with the chain while he slept.
    "Give it a rest, Blair, you can't attempt to rationalize motive on behalf of this monster," he muttered to himself.
    "That is so very true, Little Brother..." replied Bobo as he came out of the shadows. "Rationalization is the tool of a weak mind. You must be strong for the harsh times ahead."
    "W-what harsh times?"
    "Our conflict with the other... Surely you've seen the signs?"
    "What signs do you mean?"
    "Hmmm... Then we suppose you HAVEN'T seen that panther?"
    Blair felt his heart hit the top of his shoes. "N-no... Panther? Nah. No panthers in Cascade... Too cold, I guess..."
    Bobo strode over to the bed and grasped one of the chains. "Little Brother, deception ill fits such as ourselves. You know that, and yet you still attempt to mislead us. Why? What importance is this panther to you?"
    "I don't know anything about any panther!"
    "BULLSHIT!" swore Bobo as he snapped the chain between his hands like yarn. "Even if your heartbeat didn't betray you to us, any fool could see you're LYING... ONCE more, the question is... WHY?"
    "All RIGHT," Blair acquiesced. "I've seen a panther. What does it prove? That I'm going as nuts as you? Does that make you HAPPY? I've seen a panther in the middle of the city... Whoop-de-doo! Better get the butterfly nets, huh?"
    Bobo regarded him coldly, and then reached to the lock that held Blair's chains together. He grasped it in his hand, and then twisted it against the chain - snapping both. Blair flinched reflexively at the sound of metal wrenching asunder, and Bobo stepped away from the bed. He threw the lock to the floor and stated, "Get up."
    "Why? What are you going to-"
    "WE SAID GET UP! How can you so shame the wolf with your WEAKNESS? GET UP!"
    Blair numbly did as he was told. "I guess I don't have a choice..."
    Bobo wheeled on him. "What? What did you say?"
    "I-I said I guess I don't have a choice..."
    Bobo loomed over Blair, "No. That is not so. You DO. There is ALWAYS a choice..."
    "What choice then?" challenged Blair. "Do as you say or have you tear me apart? That's no choice, that's a veiled threat!"
    Bobo stopped in his tracks. He seemed to sigh, ever so slightly, as if he was dealing with a child throwing a tantrum. "Such as we do not waste words so... If it were ever our intention to do as you surmise, would it not have been done by now? Answer."
    "W... Well, I... uh..."
    "No, clearly not. For one so steeped in education, you show remarkably little intelligence. Obviously, you deemed this panther a figment of your imagination, and told no one lest they doubt the validity of your senses..."
    "Oh... Yeah! Obviously..."
    "You spent so long RATIONALIZING this panther, that you saw fit to deny its existence even in the face of the so-called 'threat' we represent... This leads us to an inevitable conclusion..."
    "And what would that be?"
    "You can never be free if this panther plagues you so... Therefore, we shall hunt it down and kill it. Together. You and us. Won't that be FUN?"
    Blair threw up.

    Jack Kelso sat next to Jim in Simon's office, and the captain paced frenetically around the desk. He paused every so often, as if trying to find words to express himself, but then chomped on his cigar and resumed his march.
    "Captain Banks," began Kelso, "please realize that if I knew this thing would ever escape-"
    Simon stopped in his tracks. "Oh?" he said sarcastically. "According to this pile of bad news you've dropped in my lap, he was more than capable of doing so... I mean, look at this! Lockpicking... Stealth... Security Systems! I'd be chewing the head off of the warden in Philadelphia if it weren't for the fact he's been missing over thirty days! So I have nothing but some old paper and some fuzzy memories to protect me and my son!"
    "Captain, did Bobo send any message besides the girl?" asked Jim. "And what about Daryl?"
    "He gave me some malarkey about three guarantees..."
    "That's good!" said Kelso.
    "Have you gone nuts, too?" spat Simon. "This thing has no regard for human life..."
    "Only CERTAIN human life," corrected Kelso. "So far, he has only killed in defense of either himself or others, right?"
    "Well...," said Jim, "details are spotty..."
    "Listen, I come as close to knowing that monster as anyone this side of Hell should EVER be, and I can say with total confidence that one thing is constant... He NEVER goes back on his word. He may keep to the exact letter of it when it suits him, but he never knowingly tells a lie or breaks a promise. Ever. Therefore, it is important to know exactly what he said to you prior to the appearance of the young lady..."
    "Gimme a break," huffed Jim. "You've got it all written down here in his psyche profile... Multiple personalities... Homicidal mania... Megalomania... What if one of these personalities LOVES to bullshit?"
    "No," countered Kelso. "As far as his limitless dementia goes, it all ties into the same personae. There are two distinct personalities within Bobo. We called them 'Avenger' and 'Redeemer'... They're both pretty much Bobo as personalities go, but with extremely separate functions. The 'Avenger' persona exists solely to punish the wrongdoings of others. Swiftly, and mercilessly. We figured that by playing into that, he'd be easier to aim at whatever target we chose... Just cook up some story about how the mark was some horrible such-and-such, and that he did heinous acts to helpless innocents - then we'd just stay out of his way until he came back with the head..."
    "But that's only ONE," broke in Simon anxiously. "What about the other?"
    "Well, the 'Redeemer' personality was subtler... Calmer. More deliberate. Scarier... It started showing up as Bobo started to become more aware of his role as a weapon, and that it wasn't sitting well with him. The Redeemer stepped in after the Avenger was finished, and made things as right as it could... Tell me, what did all the survivors have in common?"
    Simon chewed his cigar thoughtfully. "Well, not much... The lady he saved from the possible rape was given back her pocketbook... King G was basically set free to change his life for the better... And the girl had a bus ticket and spending money back to her hometown, plus the number of a Family Counselor who was prepaid for five years worth of sessions... The only thing they had in common was what the monster said as it left..."
    "You're welcome? See you soon?" asked Kelso.
    Jim sprayed his coffee at the phrase. "How the fuck did you know THAT?" he demanded.
    "It's what he said to me, after he broke my spine."
    "That doesn't exactly seem like redemption to me," sniffed Simon.
    "But it was... First, he ensured that I wouldn't be part of the posse that went after him - all of which he slaughtered, I might add... Second, it helped shock me into seeing that the Life was slowly stealing my soul... If it weren't for the incident, I would never have seen the folly of it all and therefore would never have written any of the books I did."
    Jim laughed scornfully. "You're basically saying that you owe your career to this monstrosity..."
    "No, Jim. I owe it my life. More times over than I can possibly repay... All I can do is keep a light shining on the System to make sure that they don't make the same mistakes I did. Bobo Fiendish is simultaneously Vengeance and Redemption made flesh... And you know something?"
    "What?" asked Simon.
    "They're both archetypes of angels..."

    The men gathered in secret, and murmured amongst themselves. This 'monster' was striking with impunity... Making them laughingstocks among their charges. How can you expect someone to pay what he owes, when if you move to show him the error of it some creature comes out of the dark and strikes your collectors dead?
    Those that remained had pooled their resources, and gotten two of the best hitmen on the face of the earth... Men who would finally rid them of this 'Dark Angel'. The first of them, a Russian named Yuri sat in one corner keeping a hawk's eye on both the assemblage and the other retainer... Lee Brackett, formerly of the CIA, was now known as one of the premiere assassins available. Surely, one of these men would finally restore order...

    And should they fail...? God help them both... God help them all...

    Blair worried in the dank of the cell. Fiendish was punching a concrete column, and Blair was becoming more and more certain it was beginning to move under the hammer blows. He looked to Bobo, and a question just spilled out... "How long have you been a Sentinel?"
    "A what?" asked Bobo without changing his cadence.
    "A Sentinel..."
    "Aren't those the purple robots that chase the X-Men in the comic books?"
    "No, DIFFERENT Sentinels... You see, there's this writing by Richard Burton..."
    "The actor?"
    "No, the explorer. Let me finish! See, he discovered these tribal warriors - protectors, if you will - that had hyper-keen senses that they used in defense of the tribe. It's been my life's work to find them..."
    "Others, like yourself?"
    "Uh, yeah. But you see, there's some traits that other Sentinels exhibit that you don't..."
    "Aside from yourself," said Bobo offhandedly. "WHAT other Sentinels do you refer to?"
    Blair gulped. "The ones in the texts," he gushed. "It says that Sentinels usually have Guides..."
    "For all their enhanced retinue, they still needed guides? It seems... incongruous."
    "Well, if the Sentinels extended their senses too far, they lost themselves in the experience. Became vulnerable. The Guide was basically the one who watched out for the Sentinel should that occur. All Sentinels had a Guide that was never far from their side - except you."
    "And you, correct?"
    Blair coughed nervously. "Well, one of the reasons I, uh, made myself available to the police force was that I could, er, do some good. Plus, they could act as my Guides while I was on a scene so I didn't get drowned in the thousand-yard stare..."
    "We see... So you had MANY Guides, and you wonder how - if we are a 'Sentinel' - we managed to live with no Guide at all?"
    "Yes! Exactly."
    "We just did." Bobo shrugged. "We cannot explain how. We weren't aware there WAS an explanation for it... But tell us, what has pursuing or sharing this information accomplished? Has it brought contentment to you? Comfort? No, clearly not. The more you learn, the more questions you have... This repeats ad infinitum until you're the foremost expert on something most people weren't even aware was a FIELD, and what benefit? None. If we paid taxes, we'd be affronted at your status. Zealot Expert of the Fractious Figmentary... Heh."
    "So you don't agree that knowledge is power?"
    Bobo shook a finger in stern admonition. "POWER is power. Knowledge is not power unless it can be APPLIED. Just as coal is not as precious as diamond - despite both being carbon. The greatest loss to suffer, bar none, is the waste of time... You, Little Brother, have obviously lost a great deal."
Blair tried to reply, but he couldn't find the words. 'Well, Jim,' he thought silently, 'now he's pissed on my life too...' He sank back to his knees and did his level best to keep from weeping.
    "Aww... Listen, Little Brother, we know something that should cheer you up..."
    "What? What do you know that could POSSIBLY cheer me up?"
    "The scum of this city have enlisted professional killers to come after us..."
    "Us as in US or us as in YOU?"
    "Well, we don't believe that they know of your presence... So it is logical to assume only ourselves are presently at any risk, yes? This will work against them, though, as your role as the ace in the hole - no pun intended - becomes apparent."
    "What do you expect me to do?"
    Bobo sighed. "DuhDuhDuh?" he snapped irritably. "They know we're out here, and they have some idea of what we can do... Not enough to save them, of course, but I digress. The real ambush will be your abilities acting in concert with ours. This should neutralize any possible threats, don't you agree?"
    "So you figure that, uh, my enhanced senses will supplement yours to keep us both from getting killed?"
    "In summation, yes."
    "You know... That DOES make me feel a LOT better..." smirked Blair. "Heh."
    "This pleases me..."

    Yuri and Brackett left the meeting feeling somewhat puzzled. Brackett turned to Yuri, "You know... There's something sorta familiar about the guy that these two-bit mobsters are pissing their pants over..."
    "Da," nodded Yuri. "Almost invisible. Barehanded kills. We had heard of such a thing rampaging several territories in the Motherland. But never managed to collect enough data on it to create a counter-strategy..."
    "This gets me thinking," mused Brackett. "I had heard a few accounts of some sort of monster ripping the hell out of some of my own contacts, but I figured it for post-trauma hysteria... If this thing is even HALF what they claim it is, I think we'd do better double-teaming it."
    "Hmph. Why? So you can claim some share in my fee when I kill it?"
    "Assuming you do before I do, of course."
    "Of course. What did you have in mind for the fee?"
    "What say a sixty-forty split, with the lion's share to the one that gets him?"
    "Seventy-thirty."
    "Done. It'll be a pleasure working with you again, Yuri."
    "Just try not to botch this one like you did last time..."
    "I'm hurt. That was not my fault... How was I supposed to know that guy had motion sensors in the TREES?"
    "You WILL be if you botch this. And it WAS your fault. ALWAYS prepare for EVERYTHING."
    "Oh, yeah, like you did against Ellison..."
    "This is not Ellison, Amerikan. It may be more than these cheap thugs can handle, but no match for we professionals, da?"
    "Yeah, you're right..."
    "Of course I am right. I'm ALWAYS right. You'll see... Easy money. We'll never forget this mark."

    Night fell across Cascade like a shroud. Jim carefully examined the files in Kelso's office while Simon saw to getting the professor into protective custody. He came across a psyche profile that Kelso apparently mislaid and didn't bring with the bulk of what they had on Fiendish. He opened it and read...

'Preliminary analysis suggests acute megalomania, as is apparent by its use of the imperial plural when speaking of itself. Further, subject exhibits very strong sociopathic tendencies - borderline anarchist. Subject also possesses keen intellect, making therapy difficult. IQ Test reveals a score of 187, though subject claims it threw questions to make a joke of its score... Research reveals that 187 is Police Code for Murder. This shows a sense of humor, true, but a very dark one. Subject Classification: Very Dangerous.'

"Tell me something I DON'T know," growled Jim as he read on.

'Update. Preliminary analysis was superficial. Subject appears to suffer from a unique variant of Multiple Personality Disorder in that while inital examinations discern that both categorized personalities are immensely similar - hence diagnosis of classic acute megalomania - these facets each have separate functions. Closer examination, along with EKG readings attest that not only is subject a MP, but that these facets both exist SIMULTANEOUSLY. This is contrary to the normal 'Dominant/Submissive' archetype of MPD in which one personality is supressed while the other is in control. In this subject, both categorized personalities exist - and are aware - at once. Classification Upgrade - EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.'

    "What the fuck?" gaped Jim. "'It' is a 'THEM'? Hold it... Blair said something about being told by the Spirits that it didn't need a Guide... Could this be why? Is it possible that he's his OWN Guide?" He felt a little dizzy as the implications washed over him... "But if it doesn't need a guide... Why does it want Blair..? Unless..." He looked up and straight into the eyes of the giant lizard. He flailed backwards out of reflex, tripping over a chair and hitting the floor. He tucked the folio into his jacket and pulled his gun. Cautiously, he made his way to the door of the office and stepped out into the hallway. The lizard was there, and it hissed at him. Jim felt sweat run down his forehead as he extended his senses to try and find whatever this threat was... He picked his way carefully along the hall, and the lizard backed away. Jim grew more confident as a realization set in..."Wait a second," he said. "That thing is just in my head... It can't hurt me..."
    "Too true," said a voice behind him. "But WE can."
    Ellison whirled to face the monster that was behind him, and he felt a shock run up his arm. He was dimly aware of his gun rattling on the floor, and he felt large hands grab him by the shirt collar. "What the-?" he gasped as he was pulled off his feet and thrown twenty feet down the hall.
    "Hello, my intended... You know... Seeing animal representations of each other when we cross some boundary makes it a trifle difficult to catch one unaware," said Bobo as he shook a finger in reproach. "Luckily, it's not IMPOSSIBLE - though we think you may argue the 'luck' point a smidge. Heh."
    Jim got to his feet. "You can't keep this up forever, Fiendish... Release your hostage, and turn yourself in. If you're lucky, you'll just get the chair..." Bobo closed the gap between them with lightning speed, and Jim tried for an inside crescent kick that caught Fiendish in the temple. Bobo flowed along with the strike and came around with a spinning backfist that took Jim off his feet. 'CHRIST this thing is STRONG,' Jim fretted as he sailed eight feet down the hallway to land gracelessly upon the tile floor.
    "We're very impressed... We had considered the possibility of our Little Brother having someone that watched over him... That would come LOOKING for him... But the fact that such a person would be the exact person we're HUNTING... It is to laugh. Luckily, we bugged Kelso on our first visit... We were going to stop him from committing suicide, but you beat us to it. Good for you... Good for us that Kelso is a compulsive fountain of exposition, and he stalled you long enough for us to plant some choice bits of knowledge..."
    Then he really DID have the evidence on Project BOBO, like he said before... He just let the feds THINK it was a bluff to let sleeping dogs lie... This is getting messy. Jim started shakily to his feet... That landing knocked the wind out of him, and he needed to buy time. "What have you done to Blair?" he demanded.
    "Little Brother is safe, rest assured."
    "He can NEVER be safe with you... Let him go... Take me, instead."
    "Why on earth would we want YOU? If we wanted to see a bad comedy, there's always UPN... Heh."
    "You've been seeing the animals too, right? The panther and the wolf?"
    Bobo halted. "We've seen some things, true... But how would such as YOU know of them?"
    Jim thought for a second... "Because I'm Blair's GUIDE. I handle the mojo end, and he does the other stuff..."
    "His Guide? You are just one of many..."
    "I'm also the tribal shaman," Jim bluffed
    "Intriguing... You certainly don't seem like the type for spiritual things..."
    "Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving."
    "This is true. Very well, shaman, you get three questions. We will answer them truly. Then we play... Ready?"
    "Where's Blair?"
    "Our place."
    "Your place?"
    "Yes. One question left..."
    "That's not fair!"
    "That's not a question..."
    "Okay... What happens when you run out of criminals to kill?"
    "We won't. Just have to expand the territory when the hunting gets thin, is all. Heh. Now to business; there's the matter of a guarantee..." Bobo closed on him quickly and Jim tried to back him up with a front lunge kick to the chest, but Bobo didn't even slow down... Fiendish grabbed him, and Jim tried a crisp forearm smash to the head, but it was like hitting a tree trunk. Bobo pulled a hand back and let fly with a palm-heel to the forehead that rattled his teeth, then lifted the dazed Jim like a baby and flung him overhand back to the front door. Jim desperately tried to get back to a vertical base, but was clubbed to the floor by a powerful forearm to the back of the head, and he felt consciousness begin to slip away... He was vaguely aware of Bobo standing over him and reaching down as he said, "You're welcome. See you SOON."
 

On to the Next Chapter...