---

Although Department H’s Websense installation on their proxy server stopped Heather accessing her external mail system, it was easy for her to find out other Internet facing servers and use downloaded remote control software to take control of one of them. She then used that server to gain access to her external mail account and send a message to Mr Gentry. The reply came back quite quickly.

She poured over the message and was saddened to learn of his wife’s death. It did seem as though life was much better for him in Europe, although the fact that he was still awake at this time showed that either he was not sleeping or had launched himself back into his work.

The information she had been looking for however, was tacked onto the bottom of the message and she hurriedly replied her thanks, with a promise to keep in touch, and then used the id and password to gain access to the main Department H computer system.

What she found in there made her wish she hadn’t.

---

The air vent exploded with pieces of metal flying through the air at tremendous speeds. Before he could react, Northstar was caught by three shards that cut into his right leg and side. He howled in pain and dropped to the ground.

“Down!” Shaman shouted, but before everyone could respond, the gun turret exposed inside the vent opened fire.

The first few bullets hit Radius’ force field, and he was thrown backwards with the force. Snowbird was less fortunate, with twenty or so ripping into her flesh, puncturing most of her vital organs. She screamed once and then crumpled to the ground.

“Snowbird!” James shouted as he watched events unfold on his monitor screen.

Aurora shot out a beam of powerful light that smashed into the gun turret and destroyed it, as Shaman leapt up and ran to Snowbird’s side. He touched two fingers against her neck, but could feel no pulse.

“She’s dead,” he roared. “Snowbird is dead!”

Flex stood still, the shock of what had just occurred washing over him.

Aurora ran to her brother’s side as he lay writhing in agony and tried to use her healing light to help ease the pain.

“Brother, are you all right?” she asked.

“I…” Northstar gasped. “The pain is excruciating, but I can try and heal myself. You should go and find those who have killed Snowbird.”

“I cannot believe she is dead,” Shaman said as he kneeled over Snowbird’s still form, his head in his hands.

“Well, you’d better get over it quickly,” Radius said. “Else how the hell are we going to find the people behind this?”

Shaman shot him a look, but said nothing. James ran out of the Alpha Jet and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s all right old friend,” James said quietly. “I’ll take care of her. Like it or not we have a job to do, and we have to do it now.”

“You are right Mac,” Shaman said as he stood up and turned to James.

James nodded.

“Right Alphans!” he shouted. “Shaman leads inside, but watch out for further booby traps.”

He turned around and walked to Aurora.

“I’ll take care of Northstar,” James said softly. “We need you inside.”

“I understand Mac,” she said and kissed her brother gently on the forehead.

Shaman reached into the pouch that sat in his belt, and threw some dust over the locked door atop the roof. In a matter of seconds, the door melted away and he beckoned the rest of the team to follow him.

James watched them go, as one by one Shaman, Radius, Aurora and Flex entered into the building and started down the stairs. He wanted so much to go with them, but he had promised Heather that he would not don the costume of Guardian any more. It was a promise he was determined to keep.

“Hang on in there friend,” James said as he turned to Northstar. “We’ll get you fixed up.”

---

Heather made her way along the corridor, past where the Beta Flight lab used to be and carried on down until she reached the small door marked “Cleaner”. She touched the handle gently and tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t budge. She felt around the neck for a catch and when she found it she pressed it firmly. A snapping noise followed and the door slid to the left. Quickly she stepped inside and the door slid shut behind her. She switched on the torch on her hand and as the room lit up, she had a good look around. Bits of shining metal were revealed as the spotlight moved around, but not enough to give her an idea of the bigger picture. She turned and cast her gaze at the wall beside her where, after a few seconds, she saw a light switch. She walked over to it, flicked it and the room lit up. Then she switched off the torch and turned around to get a good look.

What she saw made her forget to breathe momentarily.

The room was huge; at least covering 4 floors of the Department H building. Around the walls there were large metal canisters, at least twelve feet high and ten feet wide. At the base of each canister there was a complex array of controls and lights which flashed on and off in a regular manner. At the top of each canister, two silver coloured ribbed plastic tubes stretched up towards the ceiling, at least thirty feet, before they bent back into the walls.

In the centre of the room she saw a round console, again filled with controls, switches and lights. The difference here being that there were four seventeen inch flat screens which were angled out so that they presumably would face four engineers or operators, equidistant from each other.

Heather walked over to the central console, and then she caught a whiff of the smell for the first time; what seemed like a mixture of eggs and detergent; not exactly a combination that she was immediately keen on. She wasn’t sure where it was coming from, other that all around. She switched on the first monitor and found a login box.

“Damn,” she whispered, before she moved to the next.

There she found the same, and the same again with the third. At the fourth, she found that it was still logged in.

It was easy to navigate the user interface and she quickly was able to find a directory on the network named classified. She smiled and double-clicked on the folder. Inside were over 1500 documents, but when she tried to open any of them she was prompted for a password.

“Damn!” she sighed, as she placed her left hand on the console, inadvertently flicking a switch.

The noise of the hydraulics system kicking in made her jump and she felt slightly disoriented. She looked around the room as the noise seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, but she couldn’t pinpoint the source. Then she stopped when she saw that one of the metal canisters was moving upwards. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that another one was doing the same, and a quick sweep around the room found that they were all moving slowly upwards, revealing a slightly smaller cylinder made out of what appeared to be glass.

Heather moved over to the one closest to her and after watching the canister move for a few more seconds she looked down at the base. A small monitor showed what looked to be some sort of terrain, with peaks and troughs, but all completely smooth texture wise. At the bottom of the monitor she noticed a label which read “Shaman”.

“My God,” she gasped, her eyes darting back up to the terrain.

This time, it was clear to her. This time she saw that the peaks were a nose, cheekbones and lips and the troughs were closed eyes. She felt a cold spike shoot up her spine and couldn’t move.

“Clones,” a voice said to her and she snapped out of her frozen state and turned.

There in front of her stood Agent McArthur, and in his right hand he held a semi-automatic pistol complete with silencer.

“You wondered why didn’t you?” he began as he took a few steps towards her. “You wondered why all your old friends were here, when so many of them should have been dead?”

Heather said nothing.

“Snowbird, for example,” he continued. “Isn’t she just a spirit? If so, how was she able to wipe the tear from your eye when you met them all again? It was a very emotional moment; almost brought a tear to my eye.”

“How…?” Heather tried to ask.

“How many of them?” McArthur finished. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Please, I…”

“Does it matter?” he asked. “They’re all there for the greater good. Of Canada and Department H.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Years,” McArthur replied. “Remember how your own husband was one for a while. It was simple extension of the program to clone all of you.”

Heather’s eyes widened.

“Yes, we even have another Heather McNeil Hudson,” McArthur said. “Or is that just Heather McNeil? I never can tell these days.”

“You bastard,” Heather hissed. “How could you do this?”

“Oh, it’s not me,” McArthur said. “I couldn’t have dreamt this up. That was Clarke and Huxley, but with them gone someone had to keep the fruit of their endeavours alive.”

“But, what about Mr Gentry?” Heather asked.

“Never knew a thing,” McArthur replied. “No need to tell him really and it was all so easy to hide. Director X saw to that.”

“So that’s why this building’s still been operational when it should have been shut down?”

“Exactly,” McArthur said. “You catch on fast. We have a simple way of sucking electricity without anyone knowing we’re using it, and when anyone comes sniffing around we can use the generator. Of course, sometimes they ask questions and go missing, but what do you expect with such a hazardous job?”

“Reading a meter is not a hazardous job,” Heather spat.

“It is around here,” McArthur said with a grin.

“Who is this Director X anyway?” Heather asked.

“Well, that will have to just remain a mystery,” McArthur said as he raised the pistol. “I’m afraid I’m bored answering your questions Ms McNeil.”

“No, wait!” Heather shouted, but four shots muffled her protests.

---

He sat in the dark, surrounded by weapons of all descriptions. Pistols, rifles, shotguns, grenades, tripmines all were scattered in a six foot radius around him. His hair was long and tangled, unwashed for months. A dark brown beard covered most of the lower part of his face, not very long and not very well kept. His eyes were hidden by a pair of scarlet tinted spectacles.

“Welcome,” he said softly as Shaman turned the corner, quickly followed by Radius, Aurora and Flex. “Welcome to the end of all you hold dear.”

“Give yourself up now,” Shaman growled. “You’ll never get away with this.”

“Cliché, cliché, cliché,” he said throwing his arms upwards. “Of course, I’ll get away with it. It’s a simple plan and I’m a complex man.”

“How do you expect to escape if you blow up all of Montreal?” Aurora asked.

“I don’t,” he said calmly. “That was never the plan. The plan was to get noticed and I’ve done that.”

“So… so now you c…can give yourself up,” Flex stuttered. “Now that you…you’ve been noticed.”

“Don’t be wet little brother,” Radius said. “He wants glory. He wants to be a martyr to some half assed cause, don’t you?”

The man simply smiled.

“Well, let me be the one to make you a martyr,” Radius growled as he stepped forward.

“Hold!” Shaman said, putting an arm out to block Radius’ path.

“Hey, let go of the threads man!” Radius said, pushing Shaman’s arm away.

“Are you insane as well as him?” Shaman asked. “There could be any number of explosive devices here which could kill or maim any of us.”

“We’re going to die anyway,” Radius spat. “This way we have a chance to take him out before he can make good his threat.”

“Please stop bickering,” the man said. “It’s not worth it. Rushing me won’t stop this entire city being reduced to ashes. There are timers, and failsafes which even I cannot defuse or turn off.”

“But why?” Flex asked.

“He’s a psycho is why!” Radius shouted. “Ain’t you, freak? Not happy because you’re off your meds or out of the warmth of your padded room?”

“Radius!” Shaman scolded.

“Take a chill pill,” Radius shouted. “Don’t get in my face, or I’ll be putting my fist in yours.”

“This is slightly entertaining,” the man said. “But really, if I were you I would get out of here and save yourselves. You can do nothing for the city, but I imagine that you have transport, yes?”

“We won’t run from a fight,” Shaman said.

The man simply smiled and held his arms out wide to the side.

“Come on then,” he said forcefully. “Give it your best shot.”

---

Eugene Judd, alias Puck, leapt out from behind a tree and landed hip deep in snow in front of the lumbering orange figure of Sasquatch. His former colleague stepped back, off-balance, and then realising that his attacker was so small stepped forward again and roared.

The force of the blast hit Eugene full in the face and he squinted, trying to stop the saliva hitting him in the eyes.

“Hey Walt!” Eugene shouted. “Is this how you greet your best buddy, eh?”

Sasquatch moved forward and lashed out with his right hand, swinging down from left to right. Eugene opened one eye and saw the limb arc down towards him. He ducked at the last possible moment and Sasquatch’s hand sped past his head, catching the top of his wool cap as it went.

“Watch the material!” he shouted as Sasquatch leapt forward.

Eugene ducked further down and leapt out across the top of the snow. Sasquatch looked down and back as Eugene tucked up into a forward roll and then, realising he was still airborne, he looked up just in time to see the rock in front of him. He roared out in protest as his head slammed into the rock. And then there was silence.

“Puck are you all right?” Murmur cried out as she leapt from behind another tree.

“I’m fine doll,” Eugene replied, pulling himself up from the snow. “Check on Walt though, eh?”

“Of course,” she replied and ran over to the unconscious body of Sasquatch.

She placed her right hand gently on his back and then placed her left hand on his forehead. She concentrated and did her best to soothe his pain, whilst also cutting through the wildness in his head.

“He okay, eh?” Eugene called out as he bounded through the snow.

“He weel leeve,” she said.

“Good to know,” Eugene said. “But is he good old Walt or has he reverted to some sort of savage that…”

A roar that chilled Eugene’s blood cut out the question. Sasquatch pulled himself up and lashed out to his left, hitting Murmur across the side of the head, and knocking her several feet into the air.

“Murmur!” Eugene shouted as he watched her body flip around lifelessly in the air.

As Murmur’s body hit the snow, Sasquatch made for her to finish the job.

“Walter! Stop!”

Sasquatch ignored the protest, the fire in his blood spurring him on to kill Murmur. Eugene leapt up in the air, caught hold of a branch and pulled himself up and around. He kicked out and flew down towards Sasquatch, who was about to grab Murmur. Eugene roared out and Sasquatch turned, just in time to see Eugene’s fists before they smashed into his face.

Both protagonists hit the snow together, only a few feet apart. Eugene was the first to his feet, attempting to continue the onslaught, even though both his fists felt raw and painful. He flipped over, and kicked out. Both his feet caught Sasquatch under the chin and threw him backwards. Eugene landed in the snow right between Sasquatch’s legs, but before he could attack again, an orange covered leg lashed out and caught him on the side of the head, sending him sprawling to the left.

He hit a hard bank of snow and ice. The force of the kick had caused his ears to ring and for a few seconds he couldn’t detect where Sasquatch was or what he was up to. He opened his eyes, and tried to get up, but a huge hand had already grabbed his arm. Eugene was yanked up and around, his ear and the side of his head throbbing in unison. Below him, Sasquatch roared, readying himself strike.

Eugene felt Sasquatch’s grip ease, and he pulled himself away, falling into a softer patch of snow. He spun around, waiting for an attack, but it never came. Sasquatch lay unconscious, face down in the snow a few feet away from him. He was astonished at the sight, but when he focused further out, he saw Murmur standing unsteadily. In her hand she held the smouldering tranquiliser pistol that he had brought with him just in case.

“Good shot, eh,” Eugene said and smiled.

---

Heather looked up. She was shaken, and very confused. The last thing she had heard were the four shots, and when one bullet hit her in the shoulder she had blacked out. By all accounts she should have been dead, and she knew it, but she wasn’t.

Then she saw McArthur’s body lying on the cold floor a few feet away from her.

She struggled to her feet, wincing as the pain in her shoulder reverberated through her body. Then she felt the warmth running down her forehead. She reached up and felt the quickly cooling blood and realised that she must have hit her head when she fell to the floor. Quickly she crossed the space between them and knelt down. She placed the fore and middle fingers of her right hand against the side of his neck. The search for a pulse was futile. He was dead.

Heather looked up and around, trying to make sense of everything. Who had killed him, and where were they now? When she saw the clump of holes in the wall across from her, she realised his killer must have been behind there. Without a thought for her own safety, rather a desire to get to the bottom of another mystery, she ran across the room and looked through the cluster of gunshot holes. It was then that she heard the familiar clicking and whirring sounds.

“Man Bot?” she asked.

“Hea… (click) ..ther,” Man Bot croaked, from within the cramped space behind the wall.

“What, what happened to you?”

But she already knew. It was all coming together now.

“My God,” she sighed. “They had you powering this entire complex, didn’t they?”

Man Bot looked down at the shackles which held it in place, and the dozens of bolts which gripped it to the floor.

“Yes,” it sighed. “I could «whirr» not let him «whirr-click» kill you.”

“It’s all right Man Bot,” Heather said as she let her head rest on the wall. “Everything is going to be just fine now.”

---

It was all over in a matter of minutes.

Radius was the first to attack, leaping at their foe. Shaman stuck a hand out to try to stop him and Radius smashed into his arm. He lashed out, catching Shaman on the side of the face, just as their enemy produced a rifle from begin him.

“Radius!” Flex shouted, as the man took aim and fired.

Shaman pushed Radius out of the way, but stumbled forward. The bullet hit him on the right side of his head.

“Shaman!” Aurora cried out. “He’s…”

Shaman grunted and fell to the ground, as Aurora rushed to his side.

“Idiot!” Radius roared, and then turned to the man, who had quickly retrained the rifle on him.

He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. The chamber was blocked. Radius crouched down ready to attack.

“Stop!” the man roared. “It is over!”

“Not a chance!” Radius shouted. “Flex, let’s do this freak now!”

But Flex stood there in silence, looking down at Shaman’s dead body. Aurora knelt beside it, holding his bloody head on her lap.

“Flex! Wake up!” Radius roared. “God, do I have to do this all my self?”

The man produced a small device which looked like a mobile phone and flipped the top.

“It ends here,” he said, and pressed a large button on it with his thumb.

And nothing happened.

He looked down at it, and pressed again. Still, nothing.

“Ha!” Radius shouted triumphantly. “Your toy not working then?”

They heard the humming first, followed closely by a vibration which started off slowly but built up until the entire building was shaking.

“What the hell?” Radius asked, as Flex looked up and around him.

In an instant, the floor beneath them buckled and melted. Radius and Flex stepped back, and Aurora pulled Shaman’s limp body away, just as a hole appeared and Guardian flew out from it.

“Guardian!” Flex shouted excitedly.

“It is over,” Guardian growled.

“Mac!” Aurora screamed. “Shaman! He killed… killed him.”

“I don’t understand,” the man muttered, looking down at the detonator in his hand.

“It was simple to generate an electromagnetic pulse which took out the bomb,” Guardian replied. “The technology wasn’t very advanced, so I would hope that whoever supplied you with it kept a receipt.”

“Right then,” the man said. “I guess the game is up.”

“It is indeed,” Guardian said. “Give up now, and come quietly. I don’t want to…”

With that the man started to cough and then gasp for breath. His arms stayed at his sides, his fists tightly locked and straining. His mouth opened and closed rapidly but no sound come out of it. A split second later, the silence gave way to a horrible gargling scream and then fell back to the floor.

“What the Hell?” Radius asked.

They watched as the man’s body contorted and twisted, his hands bending forwards and cracking as they became rigid.

“Dead,” Guardian sighed. “Suicide.”

“Dead?” Radius shouted. “Of all the lousy, cowardly…”

“Leave it Radius,” Guardian said. “It is over.”

“It’s not over!” Radius roared. “This is far from over!”

“We have fallen comrades,” Guardian said, turning to him. “Our job is done here, and we must tend to them. There will be no arguments!”

---

The Alpha Jet returned to Department H, shortly after and landed gently on the roof pad, where the medical teams were waiting. They rushed to meet the first of the casualties, as the ramp descended and Aurora helped Northstar out of the jet. Slowly, they helped him onto the gurney and then turned to rush him inside.

Radius and Flex followed, carrying Shaman’s limp form as they went. Their faces could not have been more different; Flex’s a picture of mourning and dread; Radius’ angry and red. The second medical team helped them put his body on their gurney and they covered it with a crisp white blanket.

“What a bloody waste,” Radius growled. “We could have taken him if only these idiots had some backbone.”

“R-radius, I hardly feel,” Flex muttered, but stopped as he noticed blood tricking down his brother’s leg. “Radius. Blood.”

“What?” Radius asked, turning to Flex. “What are you mumbling about?”

“I…you…”

“I’m getting myself a drink and some shuteye,” Radius growled. “What you do is your own business.”

The final medical team appeared outside and made their way quickly towards the Alpha Jet. They were followed by Heather, who was walking at a much more leisurely pace.

Guardian emerged from the Jet; his helmet discarded, and carried Snowbird’s lifeless body in his arms as he walked solemnly down the ramp. When he reached the bottom, he shunned the medical team.

“Sir, we should take her now,” one said.

“No!” Guardian roared, causing the medic to jump backwards in alarm. “I will not let her go.”

“Easy Mac,” Heather said softly. “She’s gone now. Let them do their job.”

He looked at her and the first thing he saw as the dried blood on her forehead, left there when she had hit the floor. Her arm was in a sling, and a bandage was strapped to the shoulder where the bullet had hit.

“Heather,” he said. “What… what happened here?”

“It’s a long story Mac,” she replied. “Let the team take her, and I’ll fill you in.”

He looked down at Snowbird, and felt a stabbing pain in his heart. Gently, he lowered her onto the gurney and looked away.

“I see the costume still fits,” Heather said as she joined him at his side.

“Yeah,” he replied, looking out across to the horizon. “I’m sorry, but I had to do something.”

“I understand,” she sighed.

“I know I promised, but…”

“It was for the greater good,” Heather said. “As soon as those bastards in black approached us, I knew you would be Guardian again. Even when you promised, I knew.”

“Are you angry?”

“No,” Heather replied. “I am scared, though.”

Guardian turned to her.

“This is where we belong, Heather,” he said. “We are needed here.”

“Let’s not discuss this now,” she sighed. “We need to catch up, and fast.”

“I’ll file my report when…”

“No, I mean us,” she said. “We need to catch up with our lives. If we don’t, we’re going to move further and further apart.”

“I see,” Guardian conceded and began to move towards the door.

“Hold on a second,” Heather said, grabbing the sleeve of his costume. “Let’s watch the sunrise.”

Guardian nodded and they both looked out over the mountains. The sky was just beginning to lighten as red and orange patches began to spread through the clouds; stretching upwards to colour the cold grey morning.

Tales of clones and conspiracies would wait. They had a lifetime ahead of them.

---

---

The End...

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