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The AdvAnTAGE Project

By

Mantrid Brizon

Episode 41: Tying Loose Ends

Stopping in his tracks, one of The Old Man's suit-wearing guards stares through his mirrored sunglasses. His cheek subtly twitches at his find. Hearing Mr. Sharpe calling out for help, he was the first to respond, only to discover his master lying atop his bed as Mr. Sharpe performs chest compressions.

“Hurry! He's not responsive!" He frantically calls out.

As the other men who serve The Old Man converge on the scene, the first one races to assist Mr. Sharpe in his lifesaving efforts. Another man collects a portable defibrillator while the first uses an adrenaline shot, injecting it directly into The Old Man's heart. With a loud thump of the electrical paddles, The Old Man's body jolts. They try again, but another thump does not change the results on the built-in EKG. The Old Man is dead. Ceasing their efforts, the four stone-faced minions stare down at their master's body.

“What happened?" The first asks in an Agent's typical, cold monotone.

“We were sitting and talking, then he complained of feeling tired. I felt bad keeping him from resting, especially given his recent poor health." Mr. Sharpe begins.

“Emery struggled to get up on his own, so he helped him into bed. We weren't sure what to do - he never gave us instructions - so we sat back down and waited for a moment." Krystal jumps in, setting baby Jade atop a couch cushion and moving away from her.

“We considered leaving, but I wanted to be certain it was okay. When I asked him if we would be allowed to leave only a few minutes later, he didn't answer. I tried to wake him and failed. I checked for a pulse and I couldn't find one, and that's when I called out for help." Mr. Sharpe continues.

“I see..." The first guard murmurs.

He stares through his mirrored sunglasses for a moment, then looks toward the others. One man nods his head before reaching into his suit jacket. Retrieving a small leather case from an inner pocket, he passes it to the first man. The two remaining guards begin moving aside, and both Krystal and Mr. Sharpe realize what they're doing. Forming a pie wedge, they keep The Old Man's replacement and his AdvAnimal wife in a perfect firing line. One man even goes so far as to rest his hand on the handle of his KRISS Vector.

The first guard removes a syringe and a vial from the leather case. Its half filled with strange, blue liquid. Rather than removing the liquid from the vial with the syringe, he instead uses it to draw a sample of The Old Man's blood. He then injects the blood into the vial of blue liquid, which promptly turns a faded purple. Removing the needle and giving the vial a little shake, it begins to change colors, becoming a rather sickly pale green. The look on his face is telling, and even the other three guards turn their attention toward the vial.

“Kill them!"

Dropping the vial of green liquid, he tries to draw his Beretta 93R, while his companions attempt to raise their submachine guns. Krystal, however, having superior reflexes and speed, reaches across her body and draws her stainless-steel Colt Python from her shoulder holster, before her lover can even touch the grip of his Jericho 941, which is concealed beneath his suit jacket. Bang! Bang! She fires two rounds, striking the first and second men in the head, killing them instantly.

With a diving roll, she leaps behind The Old Man's bed, which her lover is already using for concealment. The remaining two men let out a short burst of gunfire, stopping when they believe they might hit The Old Man's body. They take wide side-steps as they try to clear their master's corpse and get a good line of sight on their targets. Using this opportunity, Mr. Sharpe and Krystal both pop up from behind the bed, take aim and fire. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang! Two shots from Krystal's Colt Python and four from Mr. Sharpe's Jericho 941 drop them like rocks.

Baby Jade screams as she lay atop the couch, startled by the gunfire, and though both parents want to tend to her, they know that this is just the beginning. Krystal promptly reloads with a speed loader, while Mr. Sharpe collects a Beretta 93R from one of the dead guards before holstering his pistol. With the stock unfolded and the weapon set to burst-fire, he uses it almost immediately. Four more men charge up the nearby stairwell, following the sounds of the gunfire. With six bursts, he kills two of them outright, wounds a third and drives the survivors back down the steps.

“Damn! We can't let them get away!" Mr. Sharpe exclaims, reloading the machine pistol with a stolen magazine.

“I'm on it, master." Krystal coos.

With her large revolver in-hand, Krystal leaps over The Old Man's bed, races at incredible speed toward the steps, likely clocking over 25 MPH, jumps up and lands gracefully atop the thick, marble balustrade. From her perch, she unloads her magnum revolver on the two men as they dart toward the lower level. As she fires down the stairwell, she strikes the men in the back and head. Her accuracy is almost superhuman.

“Too easy." She smirks.

Raising the revolver, her nostrils flare as she sniffs the gun smoke.

“Ahh... I love the smell of gunpowder in the evening." She coos, casually reloading her revolver with another speed loader. “Smells like... Victory."

“Alright, sugar. Get your sexy ass over here and help me guard Jade." Mr. Sharpe smirks.

“Yes, dear!" She chirps, jumping down from the marble railing.

Collecting their daughter, who whimpers and cries, Krystal carries her revolver in one hand and her child in the other. Pressing her baby against her chest, she cradles her in an arm and nuzzles the newborn's face, shushing her and giving her kiss after soft kiss.

“It's okay, sweetheart. Mommy and daddy are just killing the bad men." She coos.

“Maybe you should stay here and leave the rest to me?" He suddenly asks.

“No." She swiftly replies. “I'll never leave you, Danny. You're mine, and if you die without me, I'll kill you." She adds, all while still comforting and nuzzling Jade.

“Alright, but hang back, sugar. I'm not going to lose my only reasons for living."

“Aww! You're such a pussy, and I fucking love you." Krystal flashes a toothy grin at her mate.

Following his lead, the couple make their way downstairs. With a few spare magazines clutched in his off hand, Mr. Sharpe remains ready for anything. He peeks around the wall at the base of the stairs and sees nothing. Moving around the corner, he can feel his heart racing. While this isn't a first for the former Agent, it's the worst this feeling has ever been. Fear. He's never been so scared in his entire life! What will happen if Krystal or Jade catch a bullet? What if he loses them both?! How will Krystal react if he dies tonight?

She's had the treatment and it goes a long way to mitigating their emotional issues and extreme separation anxiety, but he knows the nature of AdvAnimals; it won't prevent her from having a mental breakdown and potentially becoming suicidal. Would she forget about Jade and end her life upon his death, eager to join him on the other side? He gulps and a hand begins to shake.

“Are you okay?"

Looking back, it's clear that she knows the troubles of his heart. Did she hear his nervous gulp or is he so obviously terrified that she could see it as plainly as the nose on her face? Perhaps both?

“I just... I can't lose you..."

“Aww!"

“And I can't die either. What will you do if? ... If I...?"

“You know what I'll do..." She sternly replies. “Daniel, I'm better at this than you'll ever be. I'm the best of any AdvAnimal; let me clear out the rest."

“No... We have to have faith in them." He shakes his head.

“Are you sure? I'll do it for you. You know I will."

“I know." His lips curl into a faint smile. “But they need this."

Taking a deep breath, he continues to lead his mate, only to peek around another corner and see the remaining four guards waiting for them. With two kneeling and two standing, all of them leaning from behind cover, they unleash a volley of gunfire. It startles Jade, who begins to scream in a way that only a baby can. Having moved out of the way just in time, Mr. Sharpe is peppered with bits of black marble as the bullets whiz by. The Old Man's remaining guards stop firing, only to reload in pairs. He trained them well.

A bell dings and the elevator door, situated almost directly behind the guards, suddenly opens. Over a dozen gunshots ring out in the span of a few seconds. An unsettling calm befalls the corridor, which reeks of gun smoke and fresh blood.

“Hey, Sharpe?! Sir, are you there?!"

Hearing the familiar voice, Mr. Sharpe regains control of his trembling body and rolls toward the hall. Peeking around the corner, he finds the four guards lying on the floor and bleeding out. Two appear to be dead, while two roll around on the floor, one of them groaning in agony. Stepping over the groaning man, a skunk AdvAnimal places her shoe on his shoulder. With a firm push, she rolls him over and onto his back. Several bullet wounds ooze blood, and the critically injured man finds himself look up the AdvAnimal's dress.

His eyes dart away from between her legs, only to see the barrel of her Walther PPK pointed at his face. With a sadistic smirk, she pulls the trigger. Bang! A .380 round to the head ends his suffering. Meanwhile, Agent Stevenson collects the weapons in the vicinity of the last remaining guard, who feebly reaches for a KRISS Vector he'd dropped during the ambush.

“Not today!" He chirps, picking up the submachine gun.

“Brett!" Mr. Sharpe chirps as he steps into the hallway. “I knew you wouldn't let me down!"

“Of course not, boss-man!" Agent Stevenson grins. “How did it go, Daniel?"

“About as well as I could've hoped. Keep that one alive." Mr. Sharpe points to the disarmed and wounded guard.

“Sure."

As he looks back, Agent Stevenson notices his partner and mate, Persephone, still standing over a dead body, her feet beside the guard's shoulder.

“Sephy!"

“Yes, lover?" She turns to him.

“What are you doing?"

“Hmm?!" She furls her brow.

“I know you're not wearing any panties..." Agent Stevenson removes his mirrored sunglasses.

“Oh! Well, I thought if he was going to die, he might as well see something pretty beforehand." She winks, her bushy tail swaying as she steps over the corpse.

“... But that's mine!" He childishly retorts.

“Aww!" She softly giggles.

While approaching her lover, she steps in a pool of blood.

“Oh, you asshole! These are good shoes!" She growls, glaring at a dead body.

“You never cared about shoes before. In fact, you use to love going barefoot." Agent Stevenson remarks, holstering his Jericho 941 pistol and slinging the KRISS Vector.

“Yeah, well, I learned to love how sexy shoes can be." She retorts as she looks to Krystal.

“I told you." Krystal grins.

“Especially when you take them off to rub my feet, lover." Persephone coos.

As she strokes Agent Stevenson's chest, his face flushes. Glancing toward his new boss, Mr. Sharpe dismisses his fears with an assuring gesture. After checking on his mate and daughter, he moves around the corpses and toward the final guard.

“You won't... Get away with this... There's more men... Downstairs." He croaks.

“Oh, you mean the guards that me, Persephone, Michael and Angelina killed on our way up here?" Agent Stevenson rather proudly retorts.

“How are they, anyway? Did you have much trouble?" Krystal asks.

“They're fine. We've secured the building. The strike teams helped, considerably. It's a good thing they're all loyal to you." Agent Stevenson replies, looking to Mr. Sharpe.

“Good!" Mr. Sharpe smiles as he pats Agent Stevenson on the shoulder. “I had complete confidence in you."

“Thanks, Daniel."

“For what?" Mr. Sharpe raises an eyebrow.

“For getting Persephone and Angelina the treatment. I know you took a risk asking The Old Man for it, but... Well, Michael and I really appreciate it."

“You're welcome... And stop thanking me for that!" Mr. Sharpe chuckles.

Passing his loyal minion, whom he'd brought into the mission without the knowledge of Mr. Nazarov and the other conspirators, Mr. Sharpe rolls the wounded guard over.

“You still don't control anything, yet... This was a huge mistake." The wounded man groans through his boasts, wincing from pain.

“What are you talking about? Emery's dead and he's the next in line." Krystal points out.

“You think The Old Man didn't see this coming?!" The wounded man lets out a pained chuckle. “Why do you think he asked us... To test his body for poisons? He gave all of us specific instructions... He never fully trusted you... If you ever found a way to murder him..." He flashes a bloody smile. “When the contingency plan begins... You'll all be killed..."

“What contingency plan?" A worried Agent Stevenson wonders.

“When the shooting started... We put word out on the radio... So long as even one of us gets out... We'll take care of it..."

“What's the fucking plan?!" Mr. Sharpe growls, holding the wounded man by the shirt collar.

“... There's a backup replacement... In case you didn't work out... We were supposed to kill you and... Install the secondary." The wounded guard finally answers.

“Well, it looks like you thoroughly fucked that up! We locked down the tower and Agent Grey has control of the strike teams!" Persephone chirps.

“Yeah! You're the last man standing!" Agent Stevenson adds.

A brief look of fear washes over the wounded guard. It's as if he realizes that, for once, The Old Man may have been outmaneuvered. Suddenly, however, his expression changes. He spits out a gob of blood and then flashes a cocky smile.

“You couldn't claim the whole building... And even if you did... I doubt that'll be enough... You have no idea... How devious he was... How thorough... The Old Man was... Three steps ahead of everyone." He remarks.

“We'll see..." Mr. Sharpe murmurs.

Placing his machine pistol against the temple of the wounded guard, Mr. Sharpe pulls the trigger, ending his suffering. Dropping the guard's corpse, he rises to his feet and looks back at his crew. Agent Brett Stevenson, his right-hand man, stands beside Persephone and slips an arm around her slender waist. Krystal cradles their crying baby, a worried look on her face. As if to take her mind off of the possibility of failure, she looks down at the whimpering child, only to nuzzle her little head and give her the most tender of kisses.

“All clear!" A voice suddenly chirps from Agent Stevenson's pocket.

“Say again, Mikey?" He replies, adjusting the volume on the radio.

“That's “Agent Grey" to you, and I said 'all clear'! ... Fucking kids..."

“Thanks, Michael. We're coming down." Mr. Sharpe remarks.

“Yes, sir!" Agent Grey chirps.

Without delay, they abandon the bloody mess of carnage and gun smoke and board the elevator that leads into The Old Man's office.

“Oops! Pardon the mess, sir." Persephone chirps, grabbing the legs of a dead guard and rolling him out of the elevator, allowing the doors to close.

“The superintendent is going to be working overtime." Krystal murmurs.

Upon arriving at The Old Man's office, Mr. Sharpe and his team find Agent Michael Grey and his pregnant Siamese cat AdvAnimal, Angelina, standing with a large group of soldiers. Loyal to the former Agent, now the leader of Sovereign Six, the strike teams of AMO-1 stormed the tower and locked it down, led by the stalwart Agent Grey. Of his two Agents, the few men he trusts, Michael was the better choice to lead the assault. With a light splatter of blood on his bland black suit and white shirt, he stands with an uncharacteristic smile.

“So..." Agent Grey removes his mirrored sunglasses and slips them into a breast pocket. “I take it he's gone?"

“Yeah... Sovereign Six is mine."

“Good!" Agent Grey chirps, sliding an arm around his beloved Angelina.

“We were getting a little worried." She replies in her soft but high-pitched voice.

Krystal and Persephone cannot help but giggle.

“What?!" Angelina furls her brow.

“I don't know if I'll ever get used to hearing your voice." Krystal subdues another laugh.

“What's wrong with my voice?!" The feline woman whimpers.

“Nothing!" Krystal swiftly replies.

“Yeah. It's okay to sound like a Japanese schoolgirl." Persephone smirks.

“Hey!" Angelina whines.

“Don't listen to them. I love your voice." Agent Grey leans in and kisses her neck.

“Aww! You're so sweet, Mikey!"

“Especially when we're in the sack. Those cute, shrill wails are fucking adorable." He adds, giving her perky butt a little smack.

“Mikey!" Angelina giggles, resting a clawed hand on his chest.

“Alright, that's enough." Mr. Sharpe cuts in, a little smile on his face as he shakes his head. “If you clowns could be serious for a moment, please give me your report... How many?"

“Sorry, sir... Ahem... We jammed the radios at the designated time, preventing any outgoing distress calls. When we heard Krystal ping us on the secured line, we began our operation. There were several attempts to call out, but they all failed. With access to the camera systems, we locked and looped the footage. Floors swept three at a time, stairwells locked and barred. Forty-eight sentries eliminated, three captured alive. No losses on our end. They didn't see it coming, sir, just as you'd hoped. Total time to completion..." Agent Grey pauses to check his wristwatch. “Approximately twenty-two minutes. The entire building is secured, sir. No one got out."

“Good..." Mr. Sharpe sighs.

Stepping away from the large force, he walks toward The Old Man's desk. He stops and stares at the large, padded chair, Emeryth's throne. After what appears to the others to be a moment of hesitation, he turns and sits in the chair. Though he slowly leans back, he does not appear to be very comfortable, his face as stiff as a statue, his expression stern and eyes serious.

“Daniel?" Krystal calls out to him.

He doesn't answer, appearing to be deep in thought.

“Sir? ... Pardon me, sir." Agent Stevenson steps forward.

“Hmm?" Mr. Sharpe finally snaps out of his trance.

“Should we begin the cleanup?"

“Yes... Yes, do that. Just make absolutely sure that the building is secure. We can't afford to fuck this up..."

“Of course!" Agent Stevenson chirps.

“And what about those prisoners?" Agent Grey asks.

“Prisoners?" Mr. Sharpe furls his brow.

The men glance between each other, silently sharing their unease. Has he forgotten already?

“The people we picked up for Emery, master." Krystal leans in, now standing beside his chair. “Dr. Chavez and those wannabe rebels."

“Oh, right! ... Keep them comfortable, and do not harm them... I have plans for them." He finally instructs.

“As you wish." Agent Grey gives an affirming nod.

With a wave of his hand, Agent Grey rallies the soldiers and begins the process of sweeping the building for a second time. Meanwhile, Agent Stevenson checks on the prisoners and collects a maintenance crew to deal with the bodies, the blood and the damage done by their coup. Now alone, Krystal examines her mate, who once again stares into space. She reaches out a clawed hand and gently rests it upon his head, only to lovingly stroke him. Her claws weave through his hair as she nuzzles the side of his head. Unable to resist him, she gives him the softest of kisses, eager for a positive reaction.

“Danny?" She coos, unnerved by his silence. “... Daniel?"

“Hmm?"

He finally turns to her, snapping out of his trance. She looks into his eyes and sees the uncertainty. They'd managed to plan everything with mere notes and whispers; so much has been accomplished, but their work is not yet done. As a matter of fact, their work has only just begun.

“Hi, master. Where were you?" She asks so innocently.

“Just thinking..." He sighs and hangs his head.

“Oh... Are you up for the next phase? ... Or did you want me to do it for you?" Her tone changes, becoming almost motherly in her warmth.

“I... ... I think you'd better do it, sugar... I need some time..."

“Okay, Danny..."

She's never seen him so distraught, so weak. Though she'd often teased him about showing too much emotion, it breaks her heart to see her beloved in such a state. She loves him so much, and she'd do anything to protect him.

“Daniel..."

“Hmm?" He looks to her once more.

“It'll be okay." She coos, smiling with incredible warmth. “We're going to be okay now. I'll take care of everything."

“I know." He flashes a little smile. “I have complete faith in you. You've never failed me, Krissy. You've never betrayed me."

“And I never will!" She chirps, flashing a toothy grin.

“I just wish you didn't have to fight my battles for me..."

Her smile fades, but only because of the look of anguish on her mate's face. Pulling him into a warm embrace, she rests his head atop her ample bosoms, nuzzling the crown of his head as she tenderly strokes him.

“You're my mate, Danny. We became one. One flesh, one mind, one heart... Your battles are mine, too."

“I love you, Krystal." He speaks so softly, his arms wrapping around her slender form.

“I know." She grins.

“That's the part where you say, 'I love you too, master'..." He remarks.

“I know!" Her grin curls ever so sinisterly.

“Someone's being a bad girl..."

“Mmmmm..." She coos. “When I'm finished, you'll have to punish me, won't you, master?"

“What better way to christen our new office?" He flashes an equally sinister smile.

Several hours after the battle for the Black Tower, the bodies have collected and moved and the blood, tissue and brain matter moped up or wiped away. A black and red pinstriped UH-72 Lakota helicopter lands atop the roof. Armed soldiers, the strike teams from AMO-1, meet the occupants, Director Bloodworth, General Davis and Mr. Nazarov. They're whisked away, taken to the office that once belonged to The Old Man. There, they'll meet with Mr. Daniel Sharpe, their new leader.

The trio cannot help but notice the unease of the maintenance crews who patch the bullet holes in the walls and continue to remove bits of rubble and shards of broken glass. They look toward the elderly men only to avert their eyes, focusing instead on their work. Suit-wearing guards with mirrored sunglasses and KRISS Vectors, former Agents assigned to AMO-1 under Mr. Sharpe, stand on either side of the massive double doors that lead into the gargantuan and extravagant office where The Old Man once operated Sovereign Six.

He alone steered the shadowy organization, but now a new Captain mans the helm. Mr. Nazarov cannot help but smirk at the sight. Seated upon the throne, Mr. Sharpe waves them inside. He leans back and at an angle, toward his mate, who sits in a new and slightly smaller chair placed directly beside his. Standing around the room, they recognize several faces, including Agents Grey and Stevenson, as well as their AdvAnimal partners, Angelina and Persephone.

“And so, the old guard returns." Mr. Sharpe begins.

“Very good work, Mr. Sharpe. Very good, indeed." Mr. Nazarov commends him.

“I wasn't sure if you could do it. I'm glad to see I was mistaken." General Davis admits.

“How are you doing, Mr. Sharpe? Adjusting to your new position?" Director Bloodworth asks.

“Yes. Now it's time for the next phase..."

“Indeed." Mr. Nazarov nods.

“So, how should we proceed with resolving the flaws in the AdvAnimals?" Director Bloodworth asks his new master.

“No. First, we need to focus our efforts on consolidating your power." Mr. Nazarov interjects, his gaze fixed on Mr. Sharpe. “Once that's finished, then we can worry about the AdvAnimals."

“Agreed... In fact, a large part of the reason I've called you here is because I'll need your help." Mr. Sharpe begins.

“Of course." Mr. Nazarov flashes a twisted grin.

“How may we be of assistance?" General Davis steps forward, ever the soldier.

“It's come to my attention that The Old Man had a contingency plan..."

“That doesn't surprise me in the least." Mr. Nazarov remarks.

“He has a backup replacement that no one knew about. We've eliminated his guards. Those who survived the skirmish were questioned... They revealed nothing. We'll need to break into his private computer." Krystal takes over for her mate.

“I can have my best men get right on that!" Director Bloodworth chirps.

“Once we find out who the replacement is, we can erase any timed orders he might've made, reconnect with his contacts and broker new arrangements. This will be a new era for Sovereign Six." She continues, looking toward her lover and smiling warmly.

“That's wonderful news." Mr. Nazarov casually remarks.

“I have missions for all three of you. Once they're completed, we can worry about the future... We can finally take Sovereign Six in a new direction. Rather than doom the world, we might be able to give it a second chance..." Mr. Sharpe adds.

Hearing the power behind his words, the depth of his sincerity, Director Bloodworth begins to clap. The others in the room join in, until even the armed guards are applauding the direction of their new leader. Raising a hand, Mr. Sharpe silences the room, then rises from his throne.

“Mr. Stevenson!"

“Hmm?"

The two men stare at each other for a moment, with Mr. Sharpe furling his brow as though confused.

“Step forward, please..." He sighs.

“Oh, sorry!"

“I want you to work with Director Bloodworth. Once his men get into The Old Man's personal computer, I want you to lock it down, harvest the data and bring all of your findings to me. Ensure that we find out who his backup replacement was. I have plans for him."

“Yes, sir! ... What if it's me?" He jokingly asks, eliciting chuckles from many of the men.

“Then it's a good thing I like you." Mr. Sharpe grins, himself chuckling at the thought. “Mr. Grey!"

“Yes, sir?"

“Assist the General in ensuring we have the full control of Sovereign Six's forces. That includes the AdvAnimals who've not yet been Welcomed and are without any permanent assignments. We need to show them that this is a new regime in a new era. We need their loyalty; we may need them in the near future."

“Yes, sir!"

Turning toward Mr. Nazarov, Mr. Sharpe begins to walk around his massive desk. Krystal rises to her feet, cradling baby Jade in her arms as she joins him. Once he stands before the elderly man, Mr. Sharpe shakes his hand.

“For you, the man who made this possible, the man who may have helped save the world... I have a special assignment for you."

“I'd be honored, Mr. Sharpe." Mr. Nazarov briefly bows his head in reverence. “What do you need me to do?"

“Considering our audience, that's classified, but Krystal will brief you on your way to the garage."

The canine AdvAnimal turns toward her mate and passes their daughter to him. With Jade cradled in an arm, he motions for the group to leave. The guards and Mr. Sharpe's loyal Agents usher the elderly men out of the office, taking them to separate elevators. Director Bloodworth is led toward a computer lab, while General Davis is escorted by Mr. Grey and Angelina back toward the rooftop helipad. Mr. Nazarov finds himself walking beside Krystal, who takes him to a service elevator. Two loyal guards accompany them, always staying a few steps behind.

“So..." Mr. Nazarov murmurs, as soon as the elevator door closes. “Would this mission have anything to do with the two other members of Sovereign Six, Director Busch and Mr. Spender, those loyal to him and who have yet to be replaced?" He cannot help but ask.

“Yes. All of the loose ends need to be dealt with." Krystal replies.

“A messy business." He sighs. “But one I've become quite good at." He adds, as the elevator doors open.

“Which is why he chose you for it... This way." She murmurs.

Following the AdvAnimal, the solid white Husky with black hair takes a turn, just before coming upon the parking garage. Stepping into the room only a few steps behind her, Mr. Nazarov stops in his tracks. Behind this door is nothing but a small and dimly lit room with a single steel chair. It appears to be a storeroom that's since been modified for a nefarious purpose...

“What's this?!"

“You know what this is..."

Turning around, Mr. Nazarov finds his exit blocked by the two men, both of whom have their weapons at low-ready, the muzzles pointed toward him. He turns his attention toward the ghostly visage of the white AdvAnimal, who stands just beyond the shadows, next to the doorway. She draws her large, stainless-steel revolver from her shoulder holster, pointing a clawed finger toward the chair. Realizing that he has no other choice, Mr. Nazarov sits down. He takes a deep breath and then exhales very slowly, his head tilting back.

With the guards protecting their master's wife, Krystal is free to pat him down, promptly disarming him of his vintage Mauser HSc. The elderly man watches as the AdvAnimal passes the pistol to one of the men, only to take aim with her own Colt Python. He lifts a hand, showing his submission, only to turn it and point toward his suit jacket.

“May I have a cigarette?"

Krystal nods. He carefully removes a silver cigarette case from his inner jacket pocket, alongside a matching Zippo lighter. Lighting the unfiltered cigarette, he takes a long drag, the smoke billowing from his nose like a raging bull.

“Is this your doing, or his?" Mr. Nazarov finally asks, returning the cigarette case and lighter to his pocket.

“Daniel is mine... I love him, and our daughter needs a father." She replies, methodically cocking the hammer. “We always knew your plans..."

After exhaling cigarette smoke, Mr. Nazarov flashes a little grin.

“Do you, truly? Or do you merely think that you do?" He asks, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Please... You know the likelihood of resolving the flaws. Daniel keeps nothing from me, just like I keep nothing from him. We might as well be one person! When you asked us to hasten Emery's demise, I read your body language. I knew right away you simply wanted him out of the picture, then, when we consolidated power for you, you'd make your move..."

“Heh... Chertovski oomna. You're a clever girl, Krystal. I wonder how far I could've gone with a woman like you by my side." He remarks before taking a short drag of his cigarette. “Would you care to know what my plans were? What I was going to do once I was the head of Sovereign Six?"

“No, and it doesn't really matter. Daniel loves me and our daughter. He has a plan for tomorrow, a plan that might make it possible for humans and AdvAnimals to live together, indefinitely... That's the future I want."

“And if his plan fails?"

“Then at least we tried... Are you finished?" She asks, her finger caressing the trigger, her aim as steady as ever.

“What will come of the rest of the old guard? ... General Davis and Director Bloodworth?" He asks.

“General Davis is a pragmatist. He's also retired. Once the whole of Sovereign Six serves us, he'll step down or be put down... As for Director Bloodworth, he's been your lackey from the beginning. I could see that, too. Once he's finished helping us, we'll find a suitable replacement and then he can spend his time as a meek and powerless consultant... Are you finished?"

Mr. Nazarov takes another short drag of his cigarette, which is nearly burned away.

“And to think you almost didn't make it..." He murmurs.

“What?" A perplexed Krystal furls her brow.

“The AdvAnimals. You almost didn't make it... You see, when the first AdvAnimal was grown in MiLab, I realized what could be... I was the one who ordered Harriet to be dissected and studied. I sent the order without his knowledge. It almost worked..."

“Oh?"

“He didn't see the order in time to stop it, but the Burnhearts managed to free her and go into hiding. I almost managed to stop this before it began..." He sighs.

“Too bad, for you... Are you finished?"

“... Before I go, might I leave you with a word of advice?"

After a short pause, Krystal nods her head once, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“However you two decide to lead, ensure that you never lose sight of your true goals. Don't allow anything to cloud your judgement; never allow circumstance to steer you. That was our mistake..." He says, staring daggers at the AdvAnimal.

“Don't worry about that. AdvAnimals have excellent focus; I have his undivided attention, and I intend to keep it." She smirks.

“So you do... Tell me, what does it feel like to be the most powerful woman on earth? How will you rule him?"

“Don't you dare..." Krystal snarls, taking a step closer. “I have something else you seem to lack..."

“What's that?"

“Loyalty... I'm doing this for my husband, our family and our future, not for something as petty as power." She scoffs, shaking her head in disgust.

“Power is the only thing that matters." He swiftly retorts.

“Power in and of itself is meaningless. It needs to be wielded properly and conscientiously. It needs to have a purpose. It needs a cause. Daniel and I are giving it purpose, giving it cause... More than you ever did..."

With a little chuckle, Mr. Nazarov drops the butt of his cigarette to the floor, stepping on it with his expensive, polished shoes.

“Perhaps we didn't lose focus after all? Perhaps we made the right move, creating your race?"

“Are you finished?" She asks once more.

“... Da." He sighs, giving her a single nod.

“Good."

“Da'svidaniya, sooka..." Mr. Nazarov grumbles.

Standing near the large, tinted glass that lines the corner from floor to ceiling, Mr. Sharpe stares into the distant horizon. He cradles his baby in his arms, his focus only broken when he hears their private communicator beeping. Slipping a hand into a pocket, he retrieves the special phone. Only Krystal has the other. Flipping it open, he brings it to his ear.

“Hi, master." His wife coos.

“Hey... Are you okay, Krissy?"

“I'm fine!" She chirps. “You worry too much!"

“Only about you, sugar."

“Liar." She giggles. “It's done. I'll be up in a few minutes."

“Good."

“How's our little girl doing?"

“Sleeping like a baby. I only wish our lives were as peaceful." He sighs.

“I know... They will be, Daniel. They will be."

Closing the communicator, he slips it back into his pocket only to glance at one of his guards. To his surprise, the man looks rather touched by the scene he'd witnessed, giving Mr. Sharpe a subtle head nod, his lips curled into the faintest of smiles. He returns the gesture. Slipping his other arm beneath Jade, Mr. Sharpe lifts her up and nuzzles the top of her snout before softly kissing her forehead.

“Soon, Jade... Soon, everything will be different. Everything will be better. That's a promise."

Returning his attention to the horizon, he feels a sense of dread washing over him. Sitting in the driver's seat of his 1989 Ford Mustang, Donnie can see the immense black glass tower, like a sinister beacon in the night. He looks toward Victoria, who naps in the passenger's seat. With a big yawn, she arches her back and attempts to stretch in the confines of the small, sporty car. She rubs her eyes before turning her attention toward her mate. It's as if his very gaze roused her from her slumber.

“Hey, stallion." She coos.

“Hey, cowgirl."

“Did you need me to take over?"

“No. Actually... I think we're almost there."

“Really?!" She leans closer and picks up the GPS tracking device. “Where does it say they're at?"

“I think they're in there..." He motions with his head.

Turning her attention toward the massive skyscraper, Victoria's sapphire eyes widen and her heart sinks. How will they ever infiltrate such a place?! It must have world class security! After taking a moment to collect herself, she double checks the device, ensuring that their friends are indeed inside of the Black Tower.

“Oh... Uhm... Do you have a plan, Donnie?" She finally and sheepishly asks.

“No..."

“Oh..."

“Vicky..."

“Yeah?"

“I know what you said before but... Well... We both know how dangerous this is. I'm wondering if maybe... Maybe we should..."

Seeing her lover faltering, the mare AdvAnimal quickly reaches out and rests her large and powerful hand on his cheek.

“I'm scared too, but you're right... I don't think I could live with myself if we left them behind, and running forever doesn't sound like much of a future. We'll get our friends back, Donnie. I'm right here, by your side." She coos, smiling so warmly.

“I love you, Vicky."

“I love you too, Donnie."

After sharing a kiss, Donnie takes a deep breath and returns his focus on the road.

“Alright, then... I guess we're doing this!"

“Oh, goodie!" She chirps, clasping her hands before her ample breasts. “Maybe I can shoot a bad guy?!"

Retrieving Martin's nine-millimeter Taurus PT911 pistol from the center console, she attempts to check the magazine to see if it's loaded. The shiny, chrome and gold accented firearm with mother-of-pearl grips slips from her hand, thumping loudly as it lands between her legs.

“Oops!"

Curling her body, she leans far forward and feels around the floor.

“Oh, damn. Where is that thing?!"

Donnie cannot help but chuckle, in spite of the knot that forms in the pit of his stomach.