Washington, D.C.
The White House

8:39 AM

         Chief Thunder stood facing one of the windows overlooking the front yard from the second floor.  He stared out of it intently, as if he could somehow move himself from his current position to where his eyes were focused.
         Down below, on the front yard, were Jago and Orchid.  They had both changed into sweatshirts and pants.  They stood facing each other, breathing hard.  Jago then charged at Orchid, throwing a punch as he approached.  Orchid caught his fist, then rolled backwards with him momentum, pushing her feet into his stomach as she went.  Jago was flipped into the air as Orchid rolled, but he regained control of himself in mid air and landed on his feet.  Orchid finished her roll, then turned around, throwing a roundhouse kick at her brother.  Jago blocked it, dropped to one knee, and used his free leg to kick the back of Orchid’s standing leg.  She fell to the ground quickly – Jago straightened himself and went for a ground kick, but Orchid rolled out of the way.
         Thunder watched the fight with complete attention.  So much so, that he did not notice President Harrison’s approach behind him.  She stood behind him and off to his side, looking down at where Thunder’s eyes converged, the fight between the two siblings.
         “What are they doing?”  She asked.
         Thunder was startled for a moment.  “Oh, they’re sparring.”
         “There?  They could have picked a better place?”
         “They figured better outside than in.”
         President Harrison frowned.  “Is this ok?  I mean, now of all times.”
         Thunder glanced back at her.  “The two people you see down there…that woman and that man.  They aren’t politicians, or assassins, soldiers, or Ultratech employees.  They’re both warriors by nature.  The fight defines them.  It’s all they have.  So, in times like this…”
         “I see.”
         “Besides, they’re trying to sharpen their skills…in anticipation of an encounter with Azrael.”
         “But, I don’t understand.  Everything you people have been saying so far paints Azrael as some sort of indestructible monster.”
         “To an extent, he is.  Fulgore cyborgs have very advanced weapons technology; the likes of which we can’t hope to compete with.  But if you take away those weapons, they still need to be able to defend themselves.  That’s where the hand to hand combat comes in.  Right now, that’s the best chance anyone has of defeating a Fulgore.  Jago actually did beat Azrael before, but things have changed.”
         “It doesn’t look like Azrael is making himself that available to actually engage in any combat.”
         “You’re right about that.  He’s playing it safe.  That makes things very difficult.”  Thunder paused for a moment.  “So…what time is the deadline?”
         President Harrison looked down at the ground.  “11 AM marks ninety-six hours.”
         “…And?”
         “And…we’re not going to make it.  There’s no way the city will be completely evacuated by then.  The last two waves won’t be able to clear the city before 11.”
         “I see.”  Thunder’s voice was flat.
         “We did the impossible…it’s amazing that we’ve gotten out as many people as we have.  Isn’t it possible that Azrael will let us complete the evacuation?”
         “To be honest with you, Madam President, I don’t know too much about Azrael.  I never met his original ego, and the only times I’ve seen him is when he came here.  So I can’t give you any kind of educated guess.  But…he doesn’t strike me as the type who’ll be lenient about this.”
         “But…we did so much.  And we’ll only be violating the deadline by a few hours.  I just can’t bring myself to think that there are thousands of people who are just going to die.”
         Thunder turned around, to face the President.  “As cold as it is, those people still in New York…they may only be the first of many, if we can’t find a way to stop Azrael.”
         President Harrison looked out the window again, down to Orchid and Jago.  “And those two are supposed to be our saviors, huh?”
         “I don’t know about saviors Madam President, but if you’re looking for your best chance in defeating Azrael, or any Fulgore, it’s those two.”
         “This is all…I don’t know, it just seems like a bad dream, or some contrived movie plot.  Something borne from the wildest fantasies.  Anything but reality.”
         Thunder sighed.  “Yeah.  At least you can wake up from a nightmare.”
 

New York City

9:21 AM

         “Thank you for your time.”  Reporter Maria Gonzalez shook the hand of a young woman she had been speaking to before they parted ways.  Maria was short but slender, with average length dark black hair, and full red lips.  She wore a red blazer with a skirt, and red high heels.  She held a microphone, with the Channel 10 logo on it.
         Maria turned around to her crew – one cameraman, and two equipment men.  “Hey Mike, what time is it?”
         The cameraman checked his watch.  “I got 9:21.”
         Maria grinned.  “Great!  We still have all morning.  Hey Phil, do you have those other addresses?  Which one is the closest from here?”
         Phil, one of the equipment men, pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and looked at it.  “Hmm…it’s a few streets over, but I think that area has already been evacuated.”
         Maria frowned.  “Well then, give me an address that hasn’t been evacuated yet.”
         “You know,” Mike said, “it looks like the evacuation efforts have almost been completed.  There probably isn’t much more we can do here.  We should go.”
         Maria shot him a look; Mike recoiled.  “No.  If we leave now, we might miss something.  We might not get another chance to be so close to the action.”  She turned away from her crew, and stared mindlessly down the street.  “Ultratech president Robert Sheridan dies in a mysterious accident, and certain strange truths about the company begin to emerge.  The conspiracy about Ultratech Brazil is released.  Then, the company’s computers begin to malfunction on a widescale.  Five days ago, Ultratech was evacuated on a quarantine alert.  The next day, President Harrison is calling for the evacuation of New York.  And all of this is a coincidence?  No chance.”
         “Hey, I agree with you on that,” Mike responded, “but the military is wrapping up the evacuation.  We’re one of the few groups still left in the city.  All I’m saying is that we may not be able to find much here.”
         “Well, I intend to stay until I’m forced out.  I want to figure out as much as I can from this end.  I’m telling you all, something big is going on.  And if I can crack it…it will be the story of the century!  My career will really take off!  So, Phil…”
         Phil looked at her quizzically for a moment, then went back to his piece of paper.  “Well…I do have one more address that hasn’t been evacuated yet…if we hurry we might get there in time.”
         Maria straightened her suit.  “Well then, why are we still standing here?”
         Just then, Maria’s cell phone rang from inside her blazer.  She pulled it out and answered it.
         “And how’s my little spark plug doing today?”  A matured, male voice said from over the phone.
         Maria half-smiled.  “Hey Eddie!  How’s tricks?”
         “Still waiting on your blockbuster story.”
         “Oh, I think I’ve got a whopper in the works for you this time around.  You’ll see Eddie…”
         “That’s actually why I called…Maria, where are you now?”
         “Still in New York, Ed.  I’ve got one more address of an Ultratech employee I can look up, me and the crew were just about to head over there now…”
         “Look, Maria, about that.  I don’t know what’s going on about all this, no one does, but something really stinks.  I want you to get out of the city, now.”
         “What?  Why?  Eddie, listen, I got something here…”
         “I don’t care.  I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t like this at all.  Especially after that incident with the military unit yesterday.  I really feel that you need to get the hell out of there.”
         “Eddie!  Damnit!  Listen, I’ve got something big here.  Really big.  Career making big, Eddie.  We can all go to the top on this one.  I just need another hour.”
         “And I’m telling you no.  As your field supervisor, I’m telling you to come here to our Jersey base…check in with me, go over what you’ve got so far, and we’ll figure out where to go from there.”
         “Just another hour Ed.”
         “No!  Something bad could happen.”
         “I’m willing to take that risk.”
         “I’m not!  Look, Maria…before your father died…he asked me if I’d take care of you.  And I swore I would.  And I have.  Maria…if it turns out that you miss out on something by leaving now, I’ll take the blame for it.  But, I just want you out of the city, I want you out now.  Don’t make me a liar to your father, Maria.”
         Maria sighed heavily.  “Eddie, you know that’s not fair.”
         “And what have I told you about this business all along?”
         “Fair is for losers?”
         “Right.”
         “Fine.  I’ll go.  I’ll come back…we’ll go over some notes, we’ll make a gameplan.”
         “Glad to hear it!”
         “Allright, I’m on my way now then.”
         “Ok…and Maria…thanks.  Talk to you later.”
         “Yeah.”  Maria hung up the phone.  She turned around to her crew.  “Well, it looks like we’re leaving anyway.”
         The crew was silent, but internally, they all breathed a sigh of relief.
         “Ok everyone,” Maria said, “make sure you’ve got everything, we got some good stuff this morning and I sure as hell don’t want to lose it.  Phil!  Where’s the nearest evac zone?”
         “Two blocks thataway.”  Phil pointed to his left.  “We should be able to get there in ten minutes, and I believe the last transport leaves in twenty.  Plenty of time.”
         “Allright, let’s go.”  Maria started off in the direction Phil pointed to, with the crew in tow.
         “Damn!”  Mike exclaimed, checking his gear as he walked.
         “Mike?”  Maria asked.
         “Damn…I…I lost one of my tapes!”
         Maria raised an eyebrow towards him.
         Mike’s eyes widened.  “No no, it’s okay.  I’m pretty sure…no, I know exactly where I left it.”  He began to turn in the opposite direction.  “I’ll just go get it.”
         “You gonna be okay, Mikey?”  The other equipment man asked.
         “Yeah, yeah.  I’ll catch the last wave out of the city, and meet up with you guys in Jersey.  See y’all later!”  Mike started a light jog in the other direction.
         “See you later…”  Maria said softly, not loud enough for Mike to hear as he diminished down the street.
 

Washington D.C.
The White House:  The Oval Office

10:26 AM

         President Harrison sat behind her desk, with her hands folded across her chin.  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” she said, staring forward, “where do we stand?”
         Orchid stood in front of the desk, still wearing her sweats.  There were a few men in business suits, and men in military uniform to her right and left.  “Well,” Orchid started, “as you know, Azrael appeared here four days ago at 11AM.  In a little over half an hour from now, that will have been ninety-six hours ago.”
         “As is,” one of the men in military uniform cut in, “it’s almost impossible to get an exact number of how many people are still in the city.  Between civilians and personnel, we’re estimating approximately ten thousand people.  It will take no less than three hours, maybe two, to get those people out of the city.”
         “We’ve already located most of the remaining inhabitants, and secured them in the evacuation plan,” another military man added, “the problem is just moving them out.”
         “So…we’re not going to make it.”  President Harrison said.
         “Ninety-six hours?”  The first military man asked.  “No.  But we will be close.”
         “Madam President,” Orchid said, “unfortunate though it may be, we are going to be facing losses in the next half hour.  We should now concentrate on how to minimize those losses as much as possible.”
         President Harrison raised an eyebrow towards her.  “But, we almost made the deadline.”
         “Almost.”  Orchid pointed out.
         “Look, this Azrael wanted the city evacuated, and we complied.  He gave us ninety-six hours, but we’re going to take a little bit more.  Isn’t it possible that he will let us finish getting our people out of the city?  We’re only spilling over by a few hours.”
         “Killing those people will be of no consequence to Azrael.  If he said he’s going to do it, he’s going to do it.”
         “Sir, I advise against changing our plan now.”  The second military man said.  “If we pull out early, we will be leaving those people to die.  But, if this Azrael sees us trying to get them out, he may let us finish.”
         “That’s not going to happen.”  Orchid coolly remarked.
         “You don’t know that!”  The man said.  “I am an expert on enemy strategies, I know what I’m talking about!”
         “And I’m an expert on Fulgore cyborgs!”  Orchid snapped back.  “Nearly get killed by one once or twice, then you can come back to me and spout your military dogma.”  Orchid turned back to the President.  “Trust me, at exactly 11AM, people are going to start dying.  Our plan now should be to minimize that by as much as possible.”
         President Harrison looked at her carefully.  “What did you have in mind?”
         Orchid put both her hands on the President’s desk, looking into her eyes.  “Recall the search teams and have them come back immediately.  Have the units that are in the middle of the city pull out immediately, regardless of their current status.  Have the units more towards the perimeter begin to get out of the city, but if at all possible, pick up more civilians on the way.”
         “My God…” the first military man whispered.  “You’re sacrificing civilians for soldiers.”
         Orchid glanced at him.  “Right now, I’m just trying to get people out of there.”
         “If we leave the teams in for as long as possible, we can get more people out.”
         “If you leave the teams in, they’re going to die, and so will the civilians.  If we start moving now, we can minimize the number of units still within the city by 11.  Madam President,” Orchid turned back to the President, “please trust me.  At 11 o’clock, anyone who is still within city limits is as good as dead.  The best choice here is to pull out early.  You leave those units in, trying to get people out, and both of them, the units, and the people they’re trying to save, are going to get killed.  They have to go…now.”
         President Harrison sighed deeply.  She looked up at Orchid once more, then sighed again.  “General Norman.”
         “Sir!”  The second man in uniform gave the President his attention.
         “General, contact all unit leaders, inform them to begin leaving the city now.  Units in the center of the city are to leave immediately, regardless of their current state.  Units towards the outskirts may pick up additional civilians as they proceed out of the city.  And have the search units return right now.”
         General Norman shot a look at Orchid, before saying “Yes, Sir!” and leaving the room.
         Orchid stared at the desk in front of her, not moving or showing any emotion at all.
 
 

New York City

10:44 AM

         “Look at her Erickson.  A thing o’beauty, a’int she?”
         Secretary Skinner stood in front of a large C-131 military transport plane, smiling.  Soldiers supervised as civilians were herded through the large open cargo door at the back of the plane.
         “She sure is.”  General Erickson responded.  “It always amazes me that something that damned big can actually take flight.”
         “That’s the might of man, my friend.  A hundred years ago, we were using horses to get around.  Now we own the sky.”
         “I wouldn’t say we own it…but it still is impressive.”
         Just then, a young soldier raced up to them.  “Pardon me, Sir!”
         “Yes, what is it?”  Skinner asked.
         “An order from the President just came in, Sir.  All units have been ordered to leave the city at once, regardless of their current evacuation state.”
         “What?!”  Skinner exclaimed.
         “Leave at once?”  Erickson checked his watch.  It was only fifteen minutes until 11AM; that would mark the ninety-six hour point.  “I guess they’re taking this pretty seriously.”
         “Soldier, where are we at now?”  Skinner asked, irritation showing through his voice.
         “Sir, we’re still waiting for the arrival of civilians from three different zones; they are supposed to be taking this flight out of the city.”
         “And we’re supposed to just leave now, without them?”
         “Yes Sir.”
         Skinner snorted.  He turned away, taking a short walk.
         “Uh…your orders, Sir?”  The young soldier asked.
         Skinner turned back to Erickson and the soldier.  “My orders?  My orders, huh?  I’ll give you my orders.  Go back and proceed as planned, soldier.”
         Erickson grabbed his arm.  “Skinner!  What the hell are you doing?”
         “I’ve told you before John.  I’m not going to let some tin can freak push us around.  We’ve bent for him this far; he can wait a little longer for us to finish here.”
         “Kurt!  Don’t be stubborn.  You heard him – these orders are from Patricia!”
         “No they’re not, and you know it!  You know this is the work of that woman.  Patricia would never order us to leave behind people like this.   You know that Orchid woman is whispering in her ear, making her do this.”
         “That may be, but still…”
         “I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that tin can, or that control freak think they can just waltz in here and start pushing us around!  So, we’re going to continue as planned.  There are a couple hundred civilians expecting to see a military transport here, and that’s exactly what they’re going to see.”
         Erickson shook his head.  “You can be too damn stubborn sometimes.  It may prove to be the death of us.”
         Skinner half smiled.  “Look, if Patty’s pissed about it, I’ll smooth things over with her later.”  He walked off briskly.
         Erickson sighed.  “I hope a pissed off President is the only thing we’ll have to worry about.”
 
 

Ultratech Corporation:  Control Room

10:51 AM

         “Your move.”  Julie said.
         Julie and Fulgore-X sat facing each other alongside the left wall of the Control Room.  The place was still a mess; the result of the virus that had been planted in the mainframe computer.  Between them, a chessboard sat atop the computer console that lined the wall.  Julie sat with her back to the door, the console to her left, and Fulgore-X with his back to the front of the room, the console to his right.  Azrael was standing at the main video screen, but looking intently into one of the smaller monitors, with his arms crossed.
         Fulgore-X studied the chessboard.  “This may take a while.”
         Julie shrugged.  “Go for it.  I haven’t anything better to do today.”
         Julie tried to study the chessboard, but found that her eyes kept involuntarily drifting up to Azrael ahead of her.  And it was hard to ignore the internal clock within her head.
         “This is a little weird, isn’t it?”  She asked.
         “What is?”  Fulgore-X responded without looking up.
         “I mean, this.  Playing chess.  I know all the rules, I know various different traps, strategies, and maneuvers.  I can sit here and speculate what your move is going to be, how that will affect the game, and what my options will be.  All this…and this is the first time I’ve ever played chess.  Never even touched the game before now.”
         “How is that strange?”
         “Well…it’s just strange to me that I can play the game without having learned it first.”
         “The information has been stored in the cybernetic parts of your brain.  That is why you know how to play.”
         “And that’s the weird part.  See, we humans, we have to learn how to do things before we can do them.  And it takes a while of practicing and developing your skills before you can do them well.  Not just games, but everything…reading, writing, walking, talking.”
         “Yes…human babies are quite…helpless.”
         “So…I’m just not used to being able to do something well before having done it at all.”
         “The human way seems pretty inefficient.”  Fulgore-X moved one of his chess pieces forward.  “You waste a lot of time having to learn how to perform basic tasks.  Especially considering that your lifespan is so short.”
         “Maybe.”  Julie studied the chessboard again.  “But, in the learning process, that’s how your character develops.  What you learn, and how you learn it, are factors that determine who you will be.  It’s what gives us our unique personalities.”  She started to make a move, but hesitated, and went back to staring at the board.  “Besides, when you can do something really well, and that’s a result of all the effort you’ve put into learning it and refining your skills, that gives you a greater sense of accomplishment.”
         “It still sounds very impractical.”
         “You were activated with the majority of your current knowledge programmed in, right?”
         “That is correct.”
         “Yeah…that’s weird to me.  I can’t even comprehend being born, and instantly knowing everything about everything.”
         “I don’t know ‘everything about everything’.  My programming was designed to include knowledge about a wide base of topics, but there were a few things that were left out.”
         “Like what?  What’s something that you’ve learned since you’ve been activated, that you didn’t know before?”
         Fulgore-X had to break his concentration from the chess game for a moment to think.  “Well…I learned how to plant flowers.”
         Julie raised an eye.  “You?  Learned how to plant flowers?”  She could barely contain a laugh.  “Where and when did you learn this?”
         Fulgore-X shot her a look.
         Julie tried to kill her laugh.  “Okay, okay, I won’t ask.  But, doesn’t it feel sort of good, knowing that you can do something that you couldn’t before?  Doesn’t that feel better than the stuff you already knew how to do?”
         Fulgore-X looked away.  “It’s…different.  When I learned that…it was a different time, different place.”  He now looked directly at Julie.  “Flowers are not practical for our current lifestyle.”
         Julie half smiled.  “I suppose so.”
         “Fulgore-X?”  Azrael called from his position at the main terminal.
         Fulgore-X slightly turned his head.
         “Did you finish work on the specifications I gave you?”
         “Yes, about half an hour ago.”
         “Excellent.  Thank you.”  Azrael resumed whatever it is he was doing.
         Fulgore-X turned back to Julie.  “If you have never played chess before, then why did you ask me to play with you?”
         Julie shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Chess is supposed to be a very involved mental game.  I guess I was just looking for a good distraction.”
         “Distraction from what?”
         Julie shot Fulgore-X a look.
         Fulgore-X raised an eye.  “Is it working?”
         Julie glanced up at Azrael.  “Not really.”  She sighed.  “Besides, playing games together is something friends do.”
         Fulgore-X raised another eye.   “We’re friends?”
         Julie laughed.  “Well, it wouldn’t hurt.  I mean, we’re both in this together, right?  It would help if we got along, sure…but it’s always nice to have a friend.   Y’know, someone to talk to, to do things with.”
         “Like playing chess?”
         “Well, sort of.  But not exactly.  I know you’re probably not programmed to be a social person, but your attitudes and mannerisms seem human in every way.  And for humans…interpersonal relationships are nice.  It beats being lonely.  Besides…all of this…it’s still…well…let’s just say I could use someone to talk to at this particular point in my life.”
         “That’s funny to hear, coming from a former Organization agent.”
         “It doesn’t matter who you are…being able to relate to and get along with others is nice.”  Julie frowned, while glaring at the chessboard.  “Although admittedly, the last person I tried that with left me to die.”
         Fulgore-X only looked at Julie.
         At the front of the room, Azrael turned and began to quickly exit the room.  “Excuse me.”  He said softly, as he walked past Fulgore-X and Julie.  Neither one of them looked up at him; both kept their eyes on the chessboard.
         Julie moved one of her pieces forward, and looked up at Fulgore-X.  “Your move.”
 

New York City

10:57 AM

         “If you check the time again, I swear I’m going to hit you.”  The driver of a large military transport truck said to his comrade on the passenger side.  In the back of the open bed at the rear of the truck were about fifty civilians; among the last being evacuated out of the city.  There were a number of similar trucks on the road, as well as a few buses
         “Cut me a break, I’m just nervous.”  The passenger responded.  “Christ man, it’s almost 11.”
         “Relax.  We’re on our way out of the city.  We’re among the last group to be leaving.  We’re fine.”
         “We’re not going to be out of the city in the next two minutes.”
         “We’re on our way out.  Will you stop worrying already!  It’s getting annoying.”
         The passenger sighed heavily.  He began to protest, but he spotted something ahead in the roadway.
         “Hey!”  The passenger exclaimed.  “What is that…just ahead of us?”
         The driver squinted ahead.  “It looks like a person.  Hey Dave, use your binocs, check it out.”
         The passenger pulled a small, green pair of binoculars from his shirt pocket.  He looked through them, ahead at the figure in the middle of the road.  He concentrated on it for a moment, seeing it but not truly realizing what it was.  When he did figure it out, his face dropped, as his eyes widened.
         “Dear God.”  He whispered.
         “What?  What is it?”  The driver asked.
         “It’s that…that thing!  Our enemy!  That cyborg thing!  The one who’s killed all those soldiers!  It matches the description perfectly!”
         The driver squinted ahead.  “What?!”  His face soured, his hands tightly gripping the wheel.  “So that’s him, huh?  Well, if he wants to stand there, that’s fine by me!”
         “What?!  Jack, what the hell are you doing?!”
          The driver slammed down hard on the accelerator; the truck began to speed up.  “I’m going to give that bastard exactly what’s coming to him!”
         Down the street, Azrael stared blankly at the truck as it barreled down on him.  He barely seemed to notice it.  The truck closed in on him, seeming to be on a collision course.  However, it stopped abruptly only a foot before reaching Azrael; as if it had hit an invisible brick wall.  The front end of the truck completely crumpled, as the rest of the vehicle contorted and jumped from the pressure.
         The passenger of the truck lifted his head slowly.  He felt as if his internal organs had all been shifted around within his body.  He looked up; the figure in the road was now standing only a few short feet away.  He had not been affected at all by the crash.  Next to him, the driver was slumped over on the steering wheel.  Blood was freely flowing down his head.
         “Jack!  Jack!  Jack!”  The passenger desperately shook his fellow soldier, trying to get him to wake up, but he quickly came to the realization that Jack was dead.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement near the front of the truck.  Azrael’s right hand emerged from its hiding place within his cloak.  He extended his right arm, pointing the palm of his hand at what was left of the truck.  The passenger could do nothing but watch.  A blue ball of energy formed within Azrael’s hand; as quickly as it appeared, it shot forward, hitting the truck and obliterating it, complete with all those inside.
         As the truck had collided with Azrael’s plasma shields, the other vehicles on the road had come to an abrupt stop.  Now, the destruction of the truck had gotten the attention of all of the passengers of the vehicles.  A low murmur rose; of voices, calm, panicked, afraid, uncertain.
         “What in the hell is going on?”
         “I saw it!  That truck stopped as if it hit a wall!  But nothing was there!”
         “Something just exploded!”
         “My God…all those people!”
         “What is that thing…in the red cape?”
         “I thought I saw some sort of blue flash right before the truck exploded…”
         “Please God…please God don’t let me die here…please God…”
         In the flatbed of one of the trucks, Mike, the cameraman for Channel 10, turned around to see what was going on.  He caught sight of the burning remains of the truck, as well as the figure in red standing before it.  He felt his heart beating quickly in his chest; it felt as if it would jump out at any moment.
         “Jesus Christ, that thing is here to kill us!”  A man in a business suit, sitting next to Mike, said.  “We have to get out of here!”  He tried to climb over the side of the truck – others followed suit, but they found themselves unable to do so.  They found that they could not penetrate the space beyond the truck – as if something were physically blocking them, although nothing was readily apparent.
         “What in God’s name…”  The businessman said.  “We can’t get out!”
         “We’re trapped!”  A woman screamed.
         Mike’s heart was beating faster now.  If that thing in red didn’t kill him, he thought that surely he was on track for an incredible heart attack.  He looked around – other people, in trucks, and on buses, were also trying to escape, but were having the same problems.  They could not penetrate the space beyond their vehicle.  He could see the looks of panic and terror on their faces, and imagined he had a very similar look at that moment.
         Suddenly, a loud scream tore through Mike’s ears.  He turned briefly to see the origin – a young woman staring ahead, in horror.  He followed her eyesight – the figure in red was now pointing his right hand towards their vehicle.  Then, there was a blue light that approached them…quickly, intrusively.  Mike did not have time to think about it.  No one did.  The plasma storm hit the truck, and much like the first, it was instantly destroyed, along with everyone inside.
         Azrael aimed his hand at another truck, firing a plasma storm shot and destroying it.  He targeted one of the buses and destroyed that as well.  He looked up for a moment, then took a step back.  He pulled his left arm from his cloak, and held both arms out to his sides.  A thin beam of plasma energy emerged from both fists, extending about three or four feet away from origin.  The beams were flat, and very much resembled swords.  Azrael brought the plasma blades in front of him, and with a nimble motion, flung both of his arms outward.  The plasma blades flew out horizontally – one of each side of the street.  They sailed through the air, cutting through several more buses and trucks.  The blades continued on, although the vehicles they struck exploded not long after their presence.  Each blade traveled a decent distance down the street, taking out a number of transports before exploding within one.  Azrael formed another blade in front of him, and sent it out vertically down the center of the street.  It sailed through the wreckage of the first truck he destroyed, and hit a large bus a few meters behind.  The blade cut the bus cleanly in half before exploding at the rear, taking the rest of the vehicle with it.
         Azrael stood calmly in the middle of the street.  There were still a few transports on the road, but he didn’t seem to particularly care about them.  Overhead, the loud engines of an airplane could be heard roaring through the air.  Two C-131’s passed directly over the street.  Azrael batted an eye up towards them.
         Azrael held out his right fist.  Another plasma blade formed in front of him.  He raised his arm, pointing it at one of the planes.  With a simple flick of his wrist, he sent the blade hurtling through the air.  It started horizontally, but with a slight rotational tilt.  The blade sliced through the plane diagonally, traveling for a few meters beyond until it exploded.  The two halves of the plane began to slowly drift apart, before the rear half of the fuselage exploded in a ball of flame, completely engulfing the front half.
 

Washington, D.C.
The White House

11:02 AM

         There was a dead silence that suffocated all those in the East Room.  Everyone had been watching the clock nervously, painfully aware of the time.  When the clock struck 11AM, this silence began.  Now, it was deafening.  Everyone watched as the tracking units on the electronic display began to disappear, one by one.  About twelve of them had disappeared; quite a few still remained, but no one was foolish enough to believe that they would remain for long.
         Orchid sat down at the table with her hands folded across her chin.  Her eyes were small, focused.  Chief Thunder and Jago sat a small distance away.  They both looked deeply disturbed, their eyes glaring into the table.  President Harrison was standing next to the radar.  Tears were already forming in her eyes.
         “How many?”  She asked, her voice hoarse.
         The soldier sitting at the radar rubbed his eyes.  He spoke in a low whisper.  “Estimate approximately twelve thousand remaining within the city.”
         The President’s eyes widened.  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing could come out.
        Nothing at all.
 

New York City

11:04 AM

         “Jesus, what the hell was that?!”  Skinner exclaimed loudly, as he burst into the cockpit.  He, as well as General Erickson, were aboard the second C-131.  Erickson stood behind Skinner, with a terrible, worried look drawn upon his face.
         “God damn.  The other plane just exploded.”  The co-pilot whispered.  “Cut clean in half first, then boom, in flames.  God save them.  God save them all.”
         Skinner glared at him.
         The pilot put a hand up to his earpiece.  “I’m getting sketchy reports from the ground…but it sounds like we’ve lost a considerable number of ground units.  I’ve heard vague reports that the enemy is in fact down there, and is responsible for the destruction.”
         “The enemy?”  Erickson said.
         “That damn tin can.”  Skinner growled.
         Erickson’s eyes widened.  “People are dying…a lot of people are dying…can’t we do anything?”
         The pilot shook his head.  “Best we can do is try to get the hell out of here.  And pray real hard.”
         Skinner punched the wall.  “This is too much!  This is too goddamn much!”
         All of a sudden, the plane lurched to the left.  Skinner and Erickson lost their balance, crashing into the console on the left side of the cockpit.  The instruments beeped loudly at their presence.
         “What the hell…?!”  The pilot exclaimed, throwing his hands away from the steering yoke.
         “Pilot, what…?”  Erickson said.
         “The plane…the plane is moving on it’s own!”  The pilot gasped.  “I can’t control it anymore!”
         The co-pilot, Skinner, and Erickson all looked upon the pilot, as a wave of fear overtook his facial expressions.
         “Where…where are we going?”  Erickson asked uneasily.
         The pilot desperately looked at the control, his panels, and out of the window.  “Back…back…and…down.”
         Skinner’s mouth dropped.  “Down?!”
         The pilot grabbed the yoke again, frantically trying to move yet.  It was of no use; the yoke could no longer be controlled by his actions.  “I can’t stop it!”  He yelled.
         Erickson’s eyes widened.  “God have mercy on us.”
 

         Azrael stood as calmly as ever, still facing the same direction.  It was a important point because the C-131 he was controlling with his plasma fields was rapidly approaching him from behind.  Much like everything else, he gave it very little regard.  The plane continued to bear down, seemingly on a collision course with the cyborg.  However, as it neared, it became apparent that the plane had just enough height to pass over Azrael.  It did so; the belly of the plane zooming merely several feet away from the top of Azrael’s head.  A terrific wind snapped forward, angrily molesting Azrael’s cape.  The cyborg stood still, almost as if he didn’t notice it at all.
         The nose of the plane barreled into the ground a few meters away from where Azrael stood, and began to rumble forward in the pavement, furiously upturning gravel.  The rest of the plane followed suit, hitting the ground, and continuing its destructive path forward.  The wings of the plane cut through the buildings on the street much like one of Azrael’s plasma blades.  The plane annihilated the transports on the ground; the ones not yet destroyed, as well as the remains of the ones that had been.  After a very short distance, the engines hit the ground, and promptly exploded.  The rest of the plane followed suit, and before long the plane had been reduced to a remarkable fireball that burst down the street.
         The fire spread quickly, engulfing not only the street but also the surrounding buildings.  It jumped backwards, reaching behind where the plane had hit the ground as well.  However, the flames completely avoided Azrael; none were even close to his position.  He stood in the middle of the inferno, still wholly unaffected by the events that transpired around him.
         Then, Azrael began to ascend.  It was a slow, gradual rise.  He cleared the inferno; and continued onward.  He rose higher and higher, passing by even some of the city’s tallest skyscrapers.  He finally stopped, a staggering distance above ground.  His eyes made a slow, methodical sweep downwards, over the city.  He then pushed his right arm from his cloak again.  His eyes narrowed slightly, as he began to fire plasma storm shots down from his right hand.  They were short bursts, and he moved his hand quickly, hitting multiple targets in rapid procession.
         Azrael glanced forward, towards the ocean.  There was a large boat still anchored at harbor.  With his advanced vision, he could see, even at this distance, soldiers dreadfully trying to herd people onto the boat.  Around the harbor, sailors ran about rapidly, trying to ready the boat for departure.  Azrael curled his right arm over his head, his right fist hanging over his left shoulder.   Another plasma blade formed in his fist, extending behind him.  Sweeping his arm down, Azrael launched the blade towards the harbor.  It cut a swath through the air, speedily reaching its target.  It easily sliced through the whole of the boat, proceeding on underwater, vanishing from sight.  Another blade followed it, slicing the rear half in two; another subsequent blade cut the front half.  A final blade approached, this one horizontally, cutting into what was left of the vessel.  This one did not proceed through the boat like the others; instead, it disappeared somewhere in the middle.  A tremendous explosion followed.  A barrage of plasma storm shots soon followed, slamming into the harbor and rocking it.  Soon, nothing could be seen of the harbor or the boat except for fire and black clouds.
         Azrael frowned at the scene for a moment, then activated his internal communications channel.  “Fulgore-X…the city has been cleared.  Please activate the shield.”
         There was no response over the channel.  A few moments later, a blue streak of lightening shot up from the edge of the city, arching over it, meeting a point some distance above Azrael’s head.  Similar streaks flew up from various points on the very edge of the city; they all converged in the center of the city.  Between the streaks, a blue field began to form; the streaks then disappeared, leaving the faint blue field, which gradually faded out as well.
         Azrael raised his right arm again.  He fired yet another plasma storm blast; this one was aimed at the sky, not the city.  It shot forward, quickly passing the point where the blue field had appeared.  Azrael twisted his wrist, his right palm now facing the sky.  The blast stopped in mid air.  Azrael gestured towards himself with his arm; the blast reversed course, heading back towards New York.  It did not get very far; hitting the plasma shield, the shield glowed blue faintly around the area where the blast impacted.  The blast itself quickly reversed course again, flying out into the sky.
         Azrael dropped his arm, letting it retreat into his cloak.  His eyes swept over the city once more.  He paused – his face upturned in an expression of implied displeasure.    He closed his eyes for a moment, still hovering over the raging inferno he had caused.  Far below him, the fire rapidly quieted, being snuffed out by a plasma field.  Azrael opened his eyes, and surveyed the city once more, before teleporting away.