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Cain and Able

13th of August 2040, technology has advanced in several areas, including (and unfortunately limited to) Medical, forensics, and biogenetics. Cancer, MS, and Alzheimer's have cures and are now no more inconvenient or life threatening then the common cold; and last one tenth the time. They are still working on cures for Parkinson's, Huntington's and (Ironically) the common cold. Though cures have not been made, vastly improvement was made in their treatments, some of which can be completely stopped, they are not cured, and the symptoms are still present, but they can not progress. DNA testing, toxicity analysis, and running finger prints through AFIS now takes no longer then 2 minutes. Biogenetics now allows people to use animal DNA to amplify important or decaying senses, such as using Hawk DNA to amplify and improve vision. A minority group has taken full advantage of this, changing themselves into anthropomorphic versions of their favorite animals; these people have been dubbed �anthros' (some of them refused to accept the term, due to the definition of anthropomorphic, while others embrace it). In most cases the procedure does little other then improving senses and change physical appearance, but in rare cases, animal instinct is transferred as well. Because these cases are rare, can be monitored, and corrected; they do not cause problems, on the other hand, it has sparked a new kind of racism that the world has never seen before, people being hunted down and skinned for their choices. In the midst of all this, two people, one a 34 year old white male detective; the other a stay at home 28 year young female husky anthro, live together in near perfect harmony. Their names? Cain and Able.

Leaning up against a red painted wooden bench, in the middle of Ever Green Park, stands Cain, a white male with short black hair, his eyes are a strange mixture of black and a bright light blue that could be mistaken for white, The colors are in both eyes, divided diagonally with both lines slanting down towards his mouth, standing about six foot, wearing a long dark coal black trench coat, pitch black pants, and shinny black dress shoes. Pinching a long unlit cigarette, between two of his long bony fingers, he pulls the cigarette and a lighter up to his mouth. He lights the cancer stick, taking a painfully long drag on it, removing it from his mouth only when he could no longer take in any more air. Then with the same painfully slow speed; he exhales, blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the crisp cold night air. He steps over the skinned body of a male, then steps over a pile of skin, the only part of which he or any of the other crime scene investigators find unusual.

"Someone please tell me, why after 3 hours of looking around here. We have absolutely nothing, no weapon..."

He takes another long drag on his smoke.

"...no fingerprints, no DNA, no hairs, not even a fucking foot print!"

He winds up and kicks one of the rookie investigators in the shin, all of them dressed in blue coveralls, this one accidently wore his inside out, a young blood hound anthro male. The rookie howls out in pain.

"We have a dead white male, and what looks like an anthro hate crime. Please explain the logistics of this."

The rookie was still keeled over in pain. Cursing the more experienced detective. One of the other CSIs answered.

"Maybe an anthro did it, a crime of passion against someone who killed a friend maybe?"

"Sounds reasonable, one question though. What makes you think this guy killed an anthro, what makes him racist?"

Another seasoned veteran detective, and Cain's partner, Adam speaks; holding up a piece of the detached flesh.

"This."

Adam is a timber wolf anthro, approximately the same size as Cain, wearing similar attire, but choosing to leave his coat open, revealing his chest and a small silver chain around his neck, stretching all the way down to his solar plex, with two male and a female symbol intertwined. His brown fur surrounds him almost completely, but around his abs going up to the bridge of his nose and under his mussel, his fur is snow white. His eyes are a dark purple, a genetic choice made by Adam. He liked and embraced being different; it was one of the things that made him and Cain good friends, one of the things that made him one of Cain's only friends.

He points toward a sign on the skin, a bear trap clasping down on nothing. A symbol used by the local anti-anthro clan �The huntsmen- to signify someone who passed the �initiation', in other words, they killed and skinned an anthro.

"Well I'll be damned; one of you CSIs can actually do his job, and when the hell did you get here Adam?"

"Around the time you violated that shoe on that kit's shin."

"Well, I see nothing left here. How about you?"

"All I see is one big fat dead end. Guess we'll have to wait on autopsy."

"Well, I'll see you in the morning. It's going to be a long night."

"Why's that?"

"Able is watching a giddy, happy movie tonight. She's going to be even more bubbly then normal."

"Want to stay at my place?"

"Not without a chastity belt."

Adam looks at Cain with a smirk, as mean and hatful as it sounded, he was right. Adam would jump him the second he had the chance, and Cain drinks Jack Daniel's like it's sugar water, so that chance would have presented its self fairly quickly.

"Well, I guess I'll have to seduce you another night."

"I guess so, I'll meet you at the coroner's office."

Cain walks off into the bleak darkness, putting his cigarette in his mouth; he takes another long drag of it. Silently he thinks to himself. �Maybe I should switch to cigars.'

***

Cain enters his apartment. It's a medium sized place; the walls are all a bland emotionless white, the floor an equally indifferent color of carpet. In Front of the door he takes of his dress shoes and leaves them next to a pair of blue fluffy slippers. Dead ahead is a hallway, it isn't very long, one meter at the most. At the end of the hallway is the living. The living room has one chesterfield; it's plain beige, and no other furniture to sit on. It has a real wooden coffee table in front of the couch; it is a standard table, nothing fancy, unstained and bland. The TV is an old tube TV, it still displays a small sticker that says "Full color display", it's connected to a much newer (though still quite old) VCR/DVD combo, it's all setup directly across from the couch. On the couch lays Able, a husky, covered in almost all white fur, with the exception of some fur on her back, in a straight line up from the base of her tail, to her neck, over the top of her head, down to the tip of her snout. She has pink eyes, nothing else special or unique about them. She is wearing a light blue house coat; the sleeves were short, coming to a stop halfway down her bicep. The coat ends three quarters of the way down her thigh. She is resting her head on a tie-dye pillow (the only colorful thing in the room). She is watching the TV, the color aspect of the TV is currently useless, as the movie she is watching is black and white. To the left is the doorway of the kitchen, it's counters are made of the same kind of wood as the coffee table. At the right of the hall way is the door to the bathroom and the stairs leading down to Cain and Able's rooms. Cain leaves his black trench coat on the floor, creating a large contrast between the black and white, and then walks over to talk to Able

"What are you watching?"

"I don't know. The movie I wanted to get wasn't there, so I grabbed this. It's funny so far."

She tosses a DVD case at Cain, it says �Abbot and Costello, the golden years'. It was written on a piece of white paper, obviously burned off.

"Is this a burned off copy?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I'm a detective, an enforcer of the law, and you broke it, right here, in my home."

"You're with homicide, you won't bust me. Besides, it would have cost me a small fortune to get a legit copy, this thing is older then our TV, I got this one for four bucks off some guy outside Blockbusters."

"*sigh* alright, how far in is it?"

"Oh, it's just starting. Would you like me to pause it while you get your shower?"

"How did you know I was getting a shower?"

She pauses the DVD. Then turned to look him squarely in the eyes

"We have lived together for five years, and everyday you get back from work, you come in, take off your coat, throw it on the floor, unbuckle your belt, slide it off, throw it in the door way to the bathroom and close the door. Then you get a shower, shave, come out of the bathroom, wearing your towel around your waist like a skirt, and forget to pick up your pants, shirt, boxers and socks off the floor, which are always in a ball under the sink. You leave the light on, and I go turn it off. Then when you're done drying of you go back in and pick up your cloths without turning on the light, put them in your room and come back upstairs wearing your long black house coat. I figured out that pattern after two weeks of living here."

"Am I really that predictable?"

"Well, you definitely like order, and you follow the same pattern every day, so..."

She says with a rather cute smile, staring into his eyes. "Yah!"

"Alright well, thank you. I'll be done in-"

"Ten minutes and fifty six seconds after the water starts running."

"How the hell did you- you know what, I don't want to know."

At this, he throws his arms up into the air, and walks into the bathroom. Shutting the door.

Able watches the door, waiting and waiting for the water to start running. When she hears the high pitched whine of the shower gaining water pressure, she relaxes. She's in heat, and it's really starting to get to her. She thought of staying inside, away from any male contact, but that was impossible living with Cain. It was days like this that she cursed living with Cain. Him and all his damn dark clothing, his tanned leather gun holster that he would always take of so slowly and gingerly, laying down on the floor. Him and his, sculpted muscles, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and his short dark hair.

"Smug bastard."

"What was that?"

"I said �wash faster'. I need to pee!"

"Yah, yah. I know. Why do you always have to wait till I'm in the shower to decide you need to pee?"

In her mind, Able thinks �because it's the best excuse I could think of.'

"I don't know I just need to pee!"

"Can you wait just-"

"No, I can not wait another 3 minutes and 13 seconds"

In the bathroom, Cain shivers slightly, and not due to the extremely cold water. He shuts off the water with excessive force, then grabs a towel. He puts it on then leaves the shower, he steps out of the bathroom, walks around the corner then addresses Able.

"I'm not going to stay in there any longer, and thanks to you I'm never going to be able to get a shower without timing how long I'm in there again. I hope you're pleased with yourself."

Able jumps up, and runs to the bathroom.

"Thoroughly. Thank you for leaving early." She shouts back at him as she closes the door.

Cain looks around the room, searching. Finally he stops and scratches his head. �How the hell was she timing me?' There is no clock in the room, except the one on the TV, and it doesn't have a second timer. He heads downstairs to his room. Inside there is just a twin sized bed frame, with a mattress of the same size placed on it, the frame is made of old, cold, steel, and a closet with doors made of mirrors. The bed has no head board; it's just a metal platform with a mattress on it. He dries of with the towel, while opening the closet. Inside, there is an empty hanger, five identical suits, one tuxedo, and a black house coat. He reaches in, grabs the house coat, and removes it from its place, all without looking at what he was doing. He drops the towel to the floor, puts on his house coat, feeling its fleece against his smooth flesh, he hears the sound of Able opening the bathroom door, and then heads up the stairs. He sees his cloths on the floor, picks them up, remembering Able's words, he decides to flick them down the stairs, rather then carry them down. With a soft thud, they hit the carpet below. He strolls into the living room and sits down next to Able. She looks at him nervously, but he doesn't notice. Suddenly he speaks.

"You ready to start the movie?"

He startles her with the sudden use of his voice.

"What? Oh yes."

Able fumbles for the remote, then quickly hits the play button.

She sits back in the couch and tries to relax. �It's ok Able, you do this all the time. There is nothing sexual about watching a movie with your mate...roommate! I-you-we meant roommate, who the hell am I talking to." She begins to shake from the stress.

"Hey Able, are you cold? You're shivering."

She quickly bluffs "Yes, a little."

"Here."

Cain puts his arm around her and pulls her close to him; he opens his house coat then wraps it as far around her as he can. She instantly realizes he isn't wearing anything under his house coat.

"This should help warm you up."

"Thank you." She says, all the mean while in her head she screams at herself 'you idiot! Couldn't you have thought of a better excuse, or gotten up to get a blanket!'

Her breathing quickens and deepens, her heart rate increases, her blood pressure spikes, and her body aches for some kind of attention. She loses control, and it happens.

"Mmmm." She moans with a lustful voice, and instantly regrets it.

"Did you just moan?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

She looks him right in the eyes, she opens her mouth to speak, but she loses control again, and kisses him passionately instead. His moist lips seal against hers, their tongues intertwine and play with each other. She slowly breaks the seal his lips and her mussel had made. She stares him in the eyes again, the contrast between his black and white eyes, and her vibrant pink ones standing out at every angle.

"Does this answer your question?"

"Yeah, I guess it does."

Able quickly lifts up off Cain, adjusts her robe, then moves back to her place on the couch. Cain is caught of guard. Confused he fixes his robe, and cautiously asks her a question.

"Would you like to finish watching the movie?"

"Sure!" Able replies in a high pitched voice, with a bright smile from ear to ear.

"Alright, well I'll go microwave some popcorn."

Cain strolls off into the kitchen. Able watches him from the couch, then quickly turns away.

�What the hell was I thinking? Am I going insane? I can't let him know I'm in heat, or anyone else for that matter! I have to keep it under wraps or I'll have to get counseled. It's time to smarten up Able, if you want to keep this gift you have to be more careful.'

Mean while in the kitchen, Cain is making the popcorn. He takes a red and white paper bag, filled with popcorn cornels and puts it in the microwave. He presses a button on the machine and it replies with a loud high pitched "MEEEEP". He slams the door shut, and presses another button. The machine roars to life, and starts to make his much needed snack. He raises his left arm, holds it out, and then turns it over. Looking satisfied he slowly lowers his arm. At this it starts to tremble and shack, not very violently, but notably. He tried to make a fist, but his fingers are stiff, and it takes him some time to accomplish the task. The tremors pass, and he loosens his fist. Silently he thinks.

�I need a smoke.'

The Microwave makes another loud noise, and stops.

"Hurry it up in there!"

Cain throws open the door, grabs the popcorn and violently slams the door shut. He rounds the corner, and sits down next to Able with the red and white bag in his hand. He tilts it towards her, and looks her in the eyes.

"Want some?"

"Yes please." Able gathers a hand full, then with her foot, she presses play on the remote, which is laid carefully on the wooden coffee table. "Thank you very much."

"Welcome."

They sit there watching the movie, eating popcorn, totally silent. Near the end Able turns to address Cain, with a blinding speed.

"Why aren't you mean to me?"

At this sudden outburst Cain jumps slightly.

"What?!"

"You heard me! You're always cranky and mean to people, like everyone's an enemy. In all the time I've known you, other then me the only person I've seen you associate with is Adam, and you're mean to him too. But you're always so nice to me, even just now. Why? Why me?'

At this he chuckles.

"Why is that funny?"

"Well, in my experience, most people get on my case for being a hard ass. This is the first time I've every had someone complain about me being �nice'."

"I'm not complaining, I'm just asking why you aren't nice like this to everyone else."

"Because I don't live with everyone else. I live with you, and I care about you. As for Adam, he knows why I am the way I am, that's why he doesn't mind the way I talk to him."

"Well why are you like this, why do you push everyone else away and act so aggressive?"

"I have my reasons."

"Then tell me them."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to know."

"Why?"

"Because I don't, now can we please stop talking about this."

"Fine."

Cain stands up, laying the popcorn down on the coffee table. He readjusts his robe then walks over to the door, slipping on Able's blue slippers.

"I'm heading outside for a smoke; I'll be back in a second."

He opens the door, not waiting for a response. His last cigarette in his left hand, his lighter in his right. He doesn't wait to leave the building; there isn't any smoking policy here, he leaves because he knows Able doesn't like the smell. He lights the end and takes a long inhale. Leaning against the wall next to the door; he turns to his right, noting that someone left the window four feet down the hall open, then to his left, and no more then three meters down the hall is Adam.

"You're late" He says, looking at Cain.

"I had to deal with Able."

"Let me guess, she is finally piecing it together?"

"Yes and no. She's on the right track, asking the right questions, but she doesn't have a clue."

"Why don't you just tell her? She's known you long enough now to know you aren't like him."

"You don't think I know that already?!" He snaps back in a hushed, harsh, bitter, venomous tone.

"Calm down. Here I brought you something."

Adam walks closer, leaning up against the wall next to Cain. He reaches into a deep pocket on the inside of his trench coat and removes a 377mL bottle of Jack Daniel's. He opens the top, and hands it off to Cain, who takes it with same hand holding the cigarette, quickly thrusts it up into the air, swallowing a large mouthful. Just watching makes Adam shudder.

"How in the fuck do you drink that stuff like that?"

"Well, it's kind of like drinking water, only this has a better taste and makes you feel warm."

"Warm?! It burns your throat is more like it."

"You get used to it."

"I don't think I would want to."

Cain takes another quick mouthful, and then sucks hard on the burning length in between his index and middle finger. Exhaling immediately after the cigarette leaves his lips.

"Ugh."

"What now Cain?"

"I think it's time to make the switch."

"From what to what?"

"Cigs to cigars."

"Why?"

"Cigarettes are starting to leave a bad after taste in my mouth, plus I like the smell of cigars more."

Adam shakes his head from side to side.

"Cain, you're one odd man."

Cain looks over at Adam, he went from the bottom up. Adam was wearing very large dress shoes, coal black dress pants, an open black trench coat with his shinny metal �Bi-sexual' chain, and his lack of a shirt, revealing his snow white chest and belly fur.

"Yes Adam. I'M odd."

Adam chuckles lightly, then he spots the bottle of liquor in Cain's hand.

"Cain, have you finished off one third of that bottle already?! "

"Yea, So?"

Adam snatches it out of Cain's hand. He then caps it and gives it back to him.

"Slow down on that shit, I don't want to send you AA."

Cain gives Adam a dirty look, then he lays down the bottle, takes one last puff on his cigarette, and then throws it out the open window to his right. Then he speaks.

"Alright down to business. First of all, what new information do we have on The Huntsmen?"

Adam clears his throat rather hoarsely.

"Well, one of my moles reported back to me a few minutes before I got here. He said that in retaliation to the killing of their clan member, they will kill two anthros, and they also plan on killing two more every time another killing happens."

"What do they know about the killing that we don't?"

"Nothing, but my informant tells me there are �rumors' of a gang forming up amongst some of the anthros. They plan on retaliating for every future killing of an anthro. They also stated their first priority was the locating and killing the current leader of the �hunt', John Deckard."

"So we now have to deal with two gangs, and our work load just got quadrupled."

"Yep."

"I think I need another smoke."

Adam sighs heavily.

"At this rate, I just might take up smoking myself."

"Ugh...ok, what else do we know about this �anthro gang'? Do we know what they call themselves, their signature, their leaders name, race, fur color, anything?"

"All I got is their name and sign. First the sign."

"What is it?"

"You aren't going to believe this one."

Adam reaches into another of his coat pockets and removes a small piece of linen paper. On it is a drawing of a brown wooden cane, with a canine head for the handle. Underneath that in brackets is "Gen. 4:10"

"Oh sweet lord."

"Ready to here the name of the group?"

"If I say no, would it really make a fucking difference?"

"Nope."

"Then tell me, what has this group named themselves?" He says as he throws his hands up in the air.

"The �Lords of vengeance'."

"Ok, that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"Do you realize what this means?" Says Adam, pointing at the writing.

"Nope."

"It's a biblical reference, to the story of �Cain and Able'."

"Sorry, I'm an atheist."

Cain was reentering his apartment when Adam spoke.

"And the lord said, �What hast thou done? The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground.'"

Cain stopped. He turned and looked at Adam.

"What does this mean?"

"In the story of Cain and Able, Cain killed able because god took Able's sacrifice over his, god was angry and banished Cain to wander the world. I believe that this means that this group feels that �The huntsmen' are like Cain, in the story of Cain and Able, and they are god, seeking vengeance for the death of �Able', in other words, they want revenge for the killings of their friends, who they believe are their brothers, and the brothers of �The Huntsmen' as well."

"The fuckers made �revenge killing' their motto."

"You better believe it."

"Wait, if �The Huntsmen' are Cain, why is a Cane their symbol?"

"Be damned if I know. I haven't finished reading the whole story, I only looked up the quote just before I left."

"Alright, find out what ever you can about this Cane marking and tell me after we see the autopsy report tomorrow."

Adam nodes, then puts his hands in his pockets. "I'll catch up with you then. Take care friend."

Adam turns, and with a quick swing of his coat disappears down the hallway. Cain looks down at the booze in his hand, and with an angry face reenters his apartment. He quickly turns to his left and goes to the kitchen. He opens the fridge door with his left hand using excessive force, catching it with his right just in time to stop it from slamming into the counter. He shoves the bottle into the fridge and slams the door shut, just as his left hand leaves. He walks into the living room and sits down next to Able, not really taking any time to look at her at first. Then, realizing she hadn't said anything to him after he returned, he quickly turns his head. She is lying down, asleep on the couch, head tilted up in the air. Her legs and robe are both open quite a ways, but that isn't what Cain's is looking at. What he sees most prominently is a scar across her stomach, it's about a foot long, and he grimaces while he looks at it, but he won't take his gaze away, he can't forget why that scar is there, he wouldn't want it to happen either. He turns away from Able, his bottom lip trembling and his eyes full of tears. He quickly wipes the tears from his eyes and stiffens his jaw. After a deep breath to steady his nerves, stands up, then leans over and lightly kisses Able on the forehead. She stirs in her sleep, a big smile on her face. Cain gets up, turns off the TV and lights, and then heads down to his room. He takes off his house coat and puts it on the hanger in his closet. He lies down on his mattress, it doesn't bother crawling under the covers, he just lies there on the plain bed, and silently cries himself to sleep.

***

Able wakes to the sounds of birds chirping in the distance and small children playing in the field outside the apartment building. She turns on the Television and waits for the clock to appear on it. She looks at the time and tilts her head slightly.

�1:00pm?'

She rushes downstairs and into her room, grabbing an old pair of jeans and a small black T-shirt off the floor. Knowing she doesn't have time to rummage through her dresser for something clean. She doesn't look for anything too eat, she just runs up the stairs taking her keys as she goes, and runs out the door. Turning to lock the door then continues to run.

***

Cain and Adam stand outside the coroner's office, Cain is smoking a Cuban cigar, and Adam is clenching his left hand in a fist, and holding the autopsy report in his right. Never before had Adam looked this angry. His white teeth flashing in the light, the skin under his fur almost visibly red, eyes bulging from his head like they are trying to break free of some torturous prison. But it is Cain you finally snaps, whipping around in a full one eighty, thrusting a fist through the dry wall. Screaming loudly.

"NOTHING!" He pulls the fist out, placing the cigar in to, just to put the other one through "FUCK!"

"Calm down!" Barks Adam, showing his teeth. Looking just as calm as Cain

Cain pulls his other fist out of the wall, which now has two melon sized holes in it. "Why should I calm down?! We have a dead body in there with absolutely no fucking clue who did it, and we have two more coming in any second, AND to put the icing on the giant fucking cake we now have the GREAT fucking pleasure of looking forward to FOURTEEN more bodies before the end of the fucking day!"

"I said it COULD be the �mark of Cain' from the bible. No one knows what that mark was supposed to look like, there is no way to tell if-"

"They Reference this fucking story in their god damn name and you think it's a fucking coincidence?! It said in the that god damn book that the �Mark of Cain' would let anyone who saw it know that anyone who killed the bearer would suffer vengeance seven times upon him. Seven times two is fourteen!"

"Well what if they didn't kill two gang members, what if they were just two civilians?"

"Then we still have at least two more to deal with!"

"Well at least-"

"Stop trying to point out the fucking bright side off this! You know how bad this is and you know it's only going to get worse!"

From down the hallway a loud voice booms

"CAIN!!!!!!"

"Great, now the fucking Chief is going to be further up our asses then even YOU want him to be!" snaps Cain with more venom then a snake.

Adam smiles and raises his arms above his head in an over exaggerated shrug "I'm pretty sure he just yelled �Cain' not Adam."

From around the corner comes a large man, in more ways then one. He looks to be about fifty years old, African-American, with very short curly hair, gray around the edges but darker toward the scalp. He is about five foot ten and looks like he weighs about four hundred pounds, most of it fat. He is wearing a cheap gray suit that is barely able to stay in one piece, due to the fact that the suit is about three sizes too small. He raises a hand with a some what chubby finger stretched out, pointing down at Cain.

"You, me, my office, now!"

He strolls off around the corner, almost waddling as he walks.

Cain follows him in stride, looking every bit as pleased as his chief. He follows the chief around the corner through the hall way and into the elevator. Once inside the doors closed and the chief's mood quickly changed.

"Sorry about that, but this is important and I don't want anyone else to know about this, even Adam."

Cain quickly turns to address his superior.

"What's this all about Mike?"

Mike quickly looks up at the numbers going by on the elevator.

"No time to explain now my boy, just follow me and look...well, for you, you don't have to act much so just look normal."

Mike's face quickly becomes angry again and the doors to the elevator open, he rapidly walks towards the glass door of a fairly large corner office. He opens the door and steps inside, Cain right on his heels. He shuts the door immediately after Cain enters the room and walks over to a brown leather chair behind a large wooden table. The room looks like an interrogation chamber, only the furniture more suited to a lawyer's office, all brown leather and dark stained rosewood. Cain sits opposite mike.

"Care to fill me in?"

"Listen Cain. The huntsmen and this new gang are going to get out of hand very quickly if we don't fix it fast. We have one of our best anthro officers trying to gain access to the anthro gang, but we need someone else to get into the huntsmen. Only problem is that they would want whoever we send to skin someone alive, and we can't let them do that. However, we believe that you would be able to get in without having to do it, due to how famous your family is amongst the huntsmen, after all your father-"

"Shut up." Cain wasn't even looking at the chief anymore, he didn't want to hear anything else Mike had to say after that last crack at him, and he didn't want to look at the mans face. "I'll do your damn undercover work, but I don't ever want to here you mention my father or what he did in my presence again."

Mike leaned back in his chair. He removes his suit, which is strangely enough, just a fat suit. Revealing a very different looking man underneath.

"Your right. That was going a bit far. You won't hear about it from me again." Mike hands Cain a file folder. "This contains all the info you need to get admission to the �hunt'. Be careful, there is only so much we can do to get you out of trouble, and we need you alive, Detective Deckard."

"Sir, just...call me Cain from now on." He says as he turns away, with a down, but serious voice.

***

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Whispers Able into a small microphone, fitted into the collar of her shirt, hidden away on the inside. She is standing outside a small restaurant downtown, on a sign next to her reads the name "Zapata's"

"You're doing fine. Just calm down and act natural, go inside, make sure he's as good as they say he is, invite him, then leave." A soft sounding male voice speaks over a small speaker, it is an old "earwig" model.

Able nervously turns around and drags herself into the place. A chipmunk comes up to her wearing a black T-Shirt and matching black dress pants. "Hello there, may I take you to your seat?"

"Yes please." Able responded with an obviously distracted smile. She was looking around for a singular object in the room, one that wouldn't be too memorable, but had a few unordinary things wrong with it, not noticeable unless you studied it or were looking right at it. Then she finds it, or rather her. A Caucasian woman, with white hair, a black dress, and dark brown stiletto heels.

"Right this way." The handsome young chipmunk leads her to a booth within the restaurant, in the corner. It was a small place, with green walls, a red ceiling, and a blue carpet with golden diamond shapes on it in a pattern. The chairs are made of gold plated metal tubes bent into arches, and cushions with upholstery that match the floor. The tables are made of real cherry wood. Other then the woman behind them, the chipmunk waiter and Able are the only people there. The waiter seats her in her seat, Able notices he has brown eyes.

"Can I get you anything to drink before I bring out a menu?"

"No thanks, but here's what you CAN do for me. Don't turn around, but behind you there is a woman eating alone. I want you to tell me what she is eating, and what she is wearing."

"Ah, I believe she is wearing a black dress, it comes down just below her knee. It has a winners tag on the back of the neck. She has black stiletto shoes, but the left one has a slight white scuff mark on the portion covering the arch of her foot, they are fake leather. She has brown hair done in a bun, but she is wearing a white wig, it looks like the Marline Manson hair style. She has ruby red lipstick, and a wedding ring with a rather large stone in it. She believes it real, by the way she flaunts it around, but it is actually a fake. Her nail polish is a similar shade of red, but it doesn't quite match her lips. She is eating a green salad, which is odd considering this is a Mexican restaurant, and she has a side of baked potato. For a drink she has a Wolf Blass gold label shiraz sauvignon from two thousand six. She has blue eyes, and...I believe she has white gold earrings. Oh and one more thing."

"What would that be?" Able was already sold, he had everything right so far, and any subsequent screw up would be irrelevant after being able to remember seeing a stray brown hair amidst that tangle of white.

"That woman behind us, is actually a man. He has an Adam's apple that comes out about three millimeters from �her' neck, and enough tissue stuffed in his bra to satisfy a man sick with the flu for two days."

Able blinks repeatedly, trying to verify what he just said, but didn't need to when he opens his legs, and reveals a rather large bulge in his panties.

"Jesus Christ, you ARE good."

"May I ask what this was all about?"

"Oh right." Able reached into her pocket with her left hand, and her right ear with her right. She brought the young chipmunk into her arms for a passionate kiss. She caressed his ear with her right hand, and held onto his collar with her left. When she pulled away, the chipmunk was startled to hear the soft male voice speaking into his ear.

"Hello, Jonathan. This is Mark Deluge, I am the current recruiter for the Lords of vengeance. You have been selected to join an elite team we are forming to research and track down the leader of the hunt. To do this we need your memory. We have a mole with current access to the files with the location of the leader of the hunt, but he cannot take notes, nor do we have the proper equipment for him to document the locations. So we are going to use you. He is going to bump into you on your way to file an assault charge, during which time he will drop the file, you will have to look at it, commit it to memory, then tell us everything you know when you get back. Are you in? yes or no, and if you ask a question, we are assuming you say yes, and will continue on assuming we have your participation, if you try to end your part in this early, we will have to keep you captive until our operations are complete. If you refuse now, we let you of easy. So again I ask, yes or no?"

"Yes...but I do have one question. How am I supposed to file an assault charge, and who am I filing it against?"

With that the voice snickers. "Able."

She smiled and nodded. Then in her normal high pitched, happy voice she speaks.

"Sorry Johnny." And with lightning reflexes, she gives him a swift uppercut to the jaw, which is met with the sickening crunching sound of teeth cracking.

Quietly he whispers into the microphone. "I had to ask, didn't I?"

***

Cain walks up to a large warehouse on a dock overlooking the harbor. Two large men stand outside, one is African American, the other is Caucasian. They are both wearing identical outfits, consisting of black short sleeve T-shirts and jeans. They are both built, and tall, around six feet. Cain is wearing the same trench coat he always does, and casually moves to turn the door knob. Then the white guard stops him.

"Hey buddy, no entry unless you got a tat."

Cain turns and looks at the guard.

"I don't have one, and I don't need one. But if you think that it's so damn important, how's about I skin your ass and have your friend here vouch for me."

The guard nearly drops his jaw at the comment, not expecting such a fiery reaction. The black guard behind Cain speaks next.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!"

Cain didn't bother to turn around, instead simply yelling at the guard.

"Cain Deckard, now open the god damn door!"

The white guard doesn't bother to ask another question, seeing the resemblance and knowing the name. He is too frightened of his boss to bother his boss's brother.

Inside the warehouse is virtually empty, the walls are all rusted and worn. The only thing other then empty space is a single shipping container inside, open. Its doors face toward the entrance of the warehouse. Inside, the shipping contain has been modified into a living space. Complete with floral wall paper, a twin sized bed, a dresser for clothes, a filling cabinet, and a chair for guests. Standing just outside the crate, looking quite surprised, is John Deckard, Cain's brother. He is dressed in a pair of black shorts, that come down to the knee, attached to chainmail legs, which hang loosely down to his ankles. He is not wearing a shirt, and unlike Cain, has shaved his head, and continues to do so regularly. He has on a pair of black vintage converes. Other then is hair and clothes, he and Cain are virtually identical.

"As I live and breath. Cain, my brother, what brings you out here. Finally come to join the hunt?" He says the last comment with a bit of sarcasm.

"What would you do if I said yes?"

John chuckles. "Well Cain, in all honesty. I wouldn't believe you, and even if I did, I wouldn't let you in."

"That's too bad, because I am here to join, and you don't have a choice in the matter."

At this, John finally gets serious. He rushes over and grabs Cain by the shoulders, forcing him to stare him in the eyes. He whispers angrily at him.

"Listen here asshole; I don't have time for this shit! I refuse to let you in, because I know who you are, and I know what you're doing here, and I have a hard enough time dealing with these idiots as it is! I don't want to get tangled up in any more lies with them!"

Cain remains clam, but his voice gets lower. "I know what you're doing, and I know it's hard. But let me in and I can help, I'll handle your men."

"No!"

"Me and Adam are defusing the situation, but he can't do it alone, and we need someone on both sides. You are letting me in and that's final."

John is shaking with anger. His face turns red, about to reach some kind of critical point of no return when he finally cracks. "Fine! But you better know what the hell you're doing, because I don't want any more blood on my hands."

Cain puts his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry brother, I won't let you down. Now what do you say we cool off, come in and we'll play one more game of chess, for old times sake."

John nods "Unfortunately Cain, I fear that we will be playing a much longer game of chess then you think."