Darkness.

    The soldier had volunteered for one last mission, and paused to rest a moment during his arduous climb. He knew that he was the Wild Card. The only way to beat the monster was to do what it didn't expect, and as far as -anyone- knew he was presently being hustled away to a new life, supposedly free of danger. As if that would ever be possible as long as that monster drew breath. So, for him, it was a rough climb up the utility stairwell of some chemical corporation's branch office. What they made, or for whom, he neither knew nor cared to know... All that was important was it was across the street from where the monster would soon appear.
    It was a difficult time escaping from the guards, but he couldn't be sent away. Not now. He had faked a heart-attack the moment he heard Brackett's voice over the Citizen's Band, and in the momentary confusion it caused he managed to take out his 'protectors' and free himself. A quick visit to a storage yard he kept a few momentos in; such as the high-powered sniper rifle he had slung over his shoulder, plus a look at the city development grid to choose the best vantage point, and he as was close to putting an end to it all as he had ever been. Of course, he knew he'd never make it out alive after closing the deal, but that didn't matter.
    If they were maneuvered into playing its game, all was lost. They were going to die screaming by the THOUSANDS. He had to stop it. He was the only one that could...
    All he had to do was get to the roof... Take that one clear shot... Save the world...
   By the numbers, soldier. One step at a time.
    "Sir, yes sir," he muttered balefully as the tears streamed down his face.
    Good soldier.

    Brackett marched about a little, mostly to keep from falling asleep from boredom. For crying out loud, this 'Dark Angel' was sure taking his sweet time getting here for his lead booster. He motioned for Yuri to come over, and Yuri did with that menacing swagger that keeps the rifraff at bay.
    "I dunno," said Brackett. "We've been here a long time, and there hasn't been any Dark Angel showing up to save these people."
    "Does it bother you that he may not exist, or that he may?" asked Yuri.
    "Well, that's what I meant to tell you... Don't you think it's strange that we haven't so much as heard a police siren since starting this? I mean, I'm used to a certain sequence of events, and while the cops are certainly a bunch of puds, they're RELIABLE puds. I don't like it..."
    "What do you mean?"
    "Think about it... We're TWO guys. Two guys in a highly defensible structure with a stack of hostages, sure, but still just TWO guys. This was supposed to draw out the mark, who would've reportedly been on us faster than stink on shit. Assuming he's not some imaginary critter, he may not be coming. Therefore, I think we may have to change tactics..."
    "It matters not to me either way," shrugged Yuri. "But you are right. This place is defensible to the point of inescapable, and I see no reason to go the way of a John Africa or David Koresh. So, we shall vacate and try another method of drawing out our target." Yuri released the safety on his submachine gun. "Too bad we have to kill the hostages, though, is it not?"
Suddenly, the phone rang. Yuri and Brackett spun to level their guns at the phone reflexively.
    "What do you think? Should we answer it?" asked Brackett.
    "Why not? Perhaps it's a news crew wanting to interview us?" chuckled Yuri drily. "You answer it, though, my accent will make it seem like a Communist Uprising, which will garner little sympathy from the public, no?"
    "Whatever," shrugged Brackett as he picked up the phone. "You have reached the Defenders of Civil Liberty," he recited. "State your business."
    "Uh, well, see, my name's Gizmo, sir... I heard what you was sayin', and I'm down, nah mean?"
    "I see," smiled Brackett. "So, you'd like to be part of our cause..."
    "Yes, sir. Me and a few friends of mine."
    "Uh huh... How many friends are we talking about?"
    "Look outside."
    "Look outside?"
    "Yep."
    Brackett motioned for Yuri to check, and the Russian moved with fluid grace to a small window and pulled out a collapsing periscope to peek from relative safety, crouched under the window behind the reinforced concrete and cinderblocks. Then Yuri looked into the eyepiece, and promptly fell over. "Bosche MOI!" he exclaimed.
    "What is it?" demanded Brackett.
    "A few friends?! There are at least fifteen thousand people out there! With GUNS!"
    The color ran from Brackett's face as he turned his gaze to the tape machine playing into the CB. Jesus H. Christ, of all the times for that Abby Hoffman shit to actually WORK, it picked NOW? "And you want to join us?" asked Brackett into the phone, trying to keep his at least his -voice- calm.
    "Yes sir. But before that, we'd like to make sure that everyone's okay, see? If you killed any hostages or somethin', and we joined you, well that makes us... y'know... accessories after the fact, nah mean? Some of us are already on parole, so we'd have to know what we were signin' on to, nah mean? While there's still time to opt out..."
    "For some, that time has passed," said Brackett coolly, fully aware of whom he spoke. "But we have not harmed any of the hostages, nor had we intended to... You understand that we needed to be taken seriously, or it would all be for nothing, yes? You can only get so far protesting injustice with nothing but a cardboard sign..."
    "I heard that," replied Gizmo. "So, should we send some folks over, or will you come out?"
    "How do I know that there aren't any police snipers ready to take us out if we open the door?"
    "Man, there ain't nobody out here but us... The LAST thing you got to worry about is some COP shootin' ya... I PROMISE."
    "Send three men. UNARMED. If I smell a rat, then everyone in here is dead meat."
    "Deal," replied Gizmo as he hung up the cellphone. He handed it back to its owner. "He says we can send three guys, unarmed, to check on the hostages. No funny stuff. What do you think?"
    The owner of the cellphone smiled as he replied, "This pleases me... Now, bring forth Little Brother and the Shaman. We have much to do, and little time."

    Taggart meticulously went over the detonator inside the copy machine, amazed at the complexity. Whoever it was that set this up made Brackett look like a three fingered moron with a box of sparklers, and Brackett had almost killed him. He wiped the sweat from his face and continued to trace the lines. The detonator had seven separate triggers... Triple mercury switch timer, ultra-frequency radio - more than likely for a remote, infrared from the cameras, vibration trigger with a spirit level backup, collapsing circuit failsafe, magnetic field failsafe, and to top it all off was LINKED to the four other 'surprises' through some sort of shielded signal wireless network! When he thought about the fact that three of the seven triggers were totally outside his control, he felt nauseous. He could be working this all out and the freak bastard could just throw the switch and blast them all to hell and gone...

    Well, that just meant that he knew where to start... He hoped. He coughed to clear his throat and then spoke into the comm-link. "Alright, everyone, listen up. This thing is going to be tough, but I think we can do it... First, we're going to have to disable the remote detonation receiver so we can't just get blown up in the middle of disarming, okay?"
    "Hold on, Command," broke in Henri. "Delta Unit has a development..."
    Taggart sighed. What could go wrong now? "Go ahead, Delta."
    "Well, it seems that the output tray of the copier here contains something, Command."
    "Gamma here, I copy that," added Megan. It looks like a booklet of some sort."
    "X-Ray copies as well," grumbled Dr. Wolfe. "It's a booklet, maybe an inch thick."
    "Bravo copies also," broke in Rafe. "A largish booklet in the output tray."
    Simon's eyes narrowed and he strode over to the copier in Internal Affairs and looked. "We've got a book, too, Taggart."
    Taggart stood up, stretching. "Well, let's have a look," he sighed. "Stand by, all, God knows what it is."
    "Standing by," replied the others.
    "Let's see... No extraneous trips, no infrared beams, no switches, nothing. It just looks like a printed book. I guess in all the excitement we didn't even register it... Stand by, all, I'm pulling it out..."
    "Taggart, it could be booby trapped..," warned Simon.
    "The whole damn thing's a booby-trap, Simon. But if there's nothing here that can trip it, which there isn't; and we can retrieve it without shaking up the works, which it looks like we can. Shoot, I say let's have a look... Command to all units, grasp the booklet and we'll pull it free all five at once, just in case, copy?"
    "Copy!" they reply.
    "On three, folks... One, two, THREE!"
    They all looked at the books in their hands...
    "Command, Bravo here, my booklet says 'Three' on the cover."
    "X-Ray here, Command. Mine says 'Two'."
    "Gamma has 'Four', Command."
    "Delta here with 'One', Command."
    "Command has 'Five', troops," sighed Taggart. "Let's see what the book says... Delta, since you've got 'One' I suppose you should start..."
    "Copy, Command. Let's see... 'Disarming the Five-Point Surprise for Dummies. An Illustrated Guide to Neutralizing the FFD-7369-R Doomsday Device, in Plain English... Part One of Five... by Bobo Fiendish' What the hell is THIS?"
    "Proof the Devil is real," sighed Simon morosely. "And that he likes to laugh at us..."
    "It's got to be a trick," hissed Taggart. "Why would he give us a walk-through on how to disarm this thing? It's stupid..."
    "Far from it," corrected Simon. "He doesn't -want- to blow us up, Taggart. He just wants to keep us -busy- so he can go about whatever he's up to in the meantime."
    "Captain, with all due respect, did you bump your head or something? This was made by someone who is DETERMINED to see that these things go off as scheduled..."
    "Delta here. Speaking of schedules, Command, it says in the preface that following these instructions to the letter will take sixty-two minutes to complete. My watch says five-of-four, which means we've got three minutes to debate this before making a decision..."
    "Gamma votes we use the book."
    "So does X-Ray."
    "Bravo concurs."
    "Delta too. I figure if it's NOT on the up-and-up, all it does is speed up the inevitable. What are your orders, Command?"
    Taggart and Banks stared at each other for a few seconds that seemed an eternity before Taggart nodded grimly.
    "Command here," said Simon. "Start reading, Delta!"
    "Roger, Command," replied Henri. "Page One..."

    "Hello, my intended," said Bobo with a bow. "Glad you could both make it... It's important to be part of events that affect change, after all. Heh."
    "You've got to stop this!" demanded Jim. "Before it's too late..."
    "Stop this? It is to laugh... If anything, we intend to see the events of the day come about -precisely- as planned... To the letter, Shaman."
    "Over my dead body," spat Jim.
    "We aim to please," shrugged Bobo as he snatched Jim off the ground by the neck and pulled back his free hand to let fly. "Goodbye, Shaman. May your next life grant you more intelligence than this one did..."
    "WAIT!" shouted Blair. "We need him!"
    "Truly?" asked Bobo with a raised eyebrow. "For what purpose, precisely?"
    "We need his abilities to... to..."
    "To what? Spit it out!" ordered Bobo, still holding Jim aloft. Jim was desperately trying to pry Bobo's hand off his throat, but it was like being in a bear trap. "Why do we need -this-? ANSWER!"
    "He's like you!" blurted Blair. "Like... uh... US, I mean."
    Bobo released Jim, who fell to the ground gracelessly in a spasm of gasps; desperate to refill his lungs. Bobo grabbed Ellison by the back of the head and hauled him to his feet. "This? Such is not like ourselves, by even the most generous comparison. This cretin seeks to preserve the failed system... It is a poor attempt at humor that is ill-timed to say the least, Little Brother. He is an impedence, and must be moved aside that we may proceed. Goodbye, again, Shaman."
Blair, unsure of what else to do, went with his emotional instincts...
    He burst into tears.
    "What's this? Little Brother, are you unwell?" asked Bobo, staying his hand a second time.
    "I can't keep this up... Bobo, I'm not your little brother. The panther you saw is my partner. Him. He's the Sentinel, not me."
    "Him? As in THIS dink presently awaiting a caved-in skull at our hands?"
    "Y-yes... He and I have been partners for a couple years, now..."
    "Well, rest assured we don't judge you... Such is common enough in the circles we've travelled. As long as you love each other..."
    "Not THAT kind of partner!" clarified Blair.
    "Oh, of COURSE not. Denial is just a river in Egypt... Heh."
    Blair slapped himself in the head in frustration. "Listen, before we get into the nuances of my life, we need to clear the table between us."
    "Certainly. We have no interest in you as a 'partner'. We have no interest in ANYONE as a 'partner' - ESPECIALLY not another MAN. While we do not judge these actions as they pertain to others, we find them... distasteful in relation to ourselves, but I digress... Anyway, we knew."
    "What?" demanded Blair. "HOW?"
    "How? Do you think we're stupid? We knew you weren't gifted as we were almost from the first second... We knew if you couldn't see the color of the scarf - which, we add, was hunter green - you probably couldn't see -anything-. Therefore, it stood to reason that you would not catch us pulling it off the mannequin prior to bringing it to you. Which you did not."
    "You knew from THEN? That was the first thing... All that crap I went through was for what? LAUGHS?"
    "Hardly. What we DID know was that you knew -something-, and that it was of great enough import to risk a VERY violent death to hide it from us. So, if learning precisely WHAT that was meant playing along with your intent to have us believe you were gifted in the same fashion as ourselves, then we saw no harm in it... But if said information was the identity of this chucklehead who WAS as we are... Well, it seems a wasted effort in this light, no? Perhaps you believed such as he could possibly 'save' you? Foolishness. It is clear he cannot even save himself, and has no intention to do so even if he could - which is proven by his repeated stands in opposition to ourselves."
    "That still doesn't explain how you knew HE was the one you wanted all the time."
    "He still had our first note in his wallet, from the rapists on the wall. Only such as ourselves could have read it, and only one who could read it would have opted to keep it. However, you misspeak, Little Brother. He is NOT the one we wanted. You are, and always were."
    "Me? But... But why? Why not him? You wanted someone who was like you were, right?"
    "We really do wish you could forget how smart you're supposed to be once in a while," sighed Bobo as he released Jim. "You stand at the crossroads, Little Brother. So certain in what you consider 'knowledge', yet willing to accept a different perspective. In an unending quest to know all you can, but with a refusal to take what you learn at face value. It is for you to finally do what you have spent your life trying to avoid. You must CHOOSE A SIDE. Would you stand with us to forge a new day, a better day for all? Or would you stand with your Janitor in opposition to those goals?"
    "I... Jim... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," Blair stammered as his eyes welled with tears. "I want to believe that... that we're making a difference; that we're doing the right thing. But the more I see, the more I... the more I think that we're just... spinning our wheels. Please... You don't know what I've seen... Jim... We can't beat him."
    "Don't... Don't quit on me, Chief," rasped Jim. "We've beaten... worse odds."
    "No, Jim. We haven't... Look around. We're surrounded, weaponless, and exhausted - physically and emotionally. I... God damn it, Jim!" wailed Blair, "Stop being so stubborn! Don't you see? It's the only way I can protect you... Please, let me."
    "This is more... important than me," Jim growled. "He wants to... destroy... the WORLD. Kill everyone, even himself..."
    Bobo smiled. "Tell us, Shaman... Have you ever been wrong before?"
    Jim glared at Bobo, but said nothing.
    "Fine. We'll assume you have, and therefore this won't be a new experience for you. Kill ourselves? Kill these fine people? It is to laugh. The events of the day serve to teach all who witness them. One can learn nothing if one is dead, so it ill behooves us to do as you surmise, even if we could."
    "What about the bo- er, the surprises?" interjected Haas.
    "Sadly, Mr. Haas, that is out of our hands. It is up to your news desk as to whether the surprises come early, and thus - as we said - while WE prefer to -not- blast this city to a smoldering pile of ashes, it is not for US to bring about those events. However, notice to the general populace regarding the level of our resolve was in order, and as the red-light attests, they do not doubt us. This pleases me."
    "Listen! All of you!" Jim shouted to the throng. "He's put bombs all over the city! He'll destroy everything just to serve his sick, twisted ends. You're only helping him commit GENOCIDE. He'll see the world BURN, and this city... All of YOU... All you ever cared for... Is just a MATCH to set it all off! What he's telling you... It's wrong! You have to understand that he's just USING you to bring an end to the way things are, so he can remake them in his own dark image!"
    "You say that like it's a bad thing," smiled Bobo. "But we have to say that you've certainly gotten quite a bit of it right, despite being a pig-headed jackass. Indeed we DO seek to use the tools at hand to bring an end to the way things are. Indeed, these people - and those at home - can play a major role in that noble transformation. Look into your lives... Is this existance truly what you desire? Are things exactly the way they should be? Is there order? Is there peace? No, clearly not! We offer the chance to fight the powers that seek to divide you. We seek to bring the people of the world together for a brighter tomorrow. A world free of fear, hate, crime, war, hunger..."
    "Freedom!" interrupted Jim. "You take away choice. You deny people the right to choose their own fate..."
    "Must... Not... Laugh...," grimaced Bobo as he lifted Jim off the ground and pulled him eye to eye. "We do no such thing. In fact, it is the complete opposite. People are free to choose whatever path they see fit, much as they are now... The difference with ours, of course, is that there are CONSEQUENCES for turning against your own. PENALTIES for acting against the common good. Your law and order is a smokescreen for your IMPOTENCE. Pretty words used to describe MASTURBATION. The time has come for the good people to take BACK the world that you and others like you have given away to the scum for FREE. NO MORE. People fear the scum, and hope VAINLY that such as YOU with your LAW can PROTECT them... BAH! Time to make NEW laws, Shaman. Those that do harm to good people for their own profit are EVIL. THAT IS LAW. Evil must be PUNISHED. THAT IS LAW. There are NO shades of GREY. THAT IS LAW." He flung Jim to the sidewalk. "Admittedly, they don't leave many loopholes for defense attorneys to make much of a living, but who cares? They can always learn a trade that will be of BENEFIT to the world... It'll be a nice change, we think... Heh. Would you not agree?"
    "All... I can agree on... Is that you... Have to be stopped," seethed Jim, trying to focus past being shaken by BOTH sides of his neck. "And if I have to... Die trying... I WILL!" he shouted as he leapt to his feet and swung a haymaker.
    "NO!" shouted Blair as the punch connected. Bobo's head didn't even turn and he smiled wryly as Jim stared in disbelief. Then the sounds of hundreds of safeties releasing broke around them like peals of thunder. Bobo held up one hand, wordlessly asking the crowd to halt. They halted.
    "Why?" asked Bobo, incredulous. "Why would you waste your life so? You know as well as anyone that you have no hope of defeating us, perhaps -better- in the light of this latest revelation. So tell us... Why?"
    "It's... All I know...," Jim said, thunderstruck.
    Bobo stared for a moment before he finally smiled. "Well, Shaman, in that building are evil men who would threaten children. We seek to punish them, and so we propose the following... Try it our way. Let us teach you. If you decide that you'd rather stay on the losing team, that's jake with us and you can walk away free. Spiffy, eh? What do you have to lose?"
    "My soul," Jim replied, staring at Blair. Blair flinched.
    Bobo beamed as he seized them both amiably by the shoulder. "You'll never miss it. Trust us... Heh."