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Authors: Harold Bloemer
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badly scarred right
arm. “Your wounds are going to get infected.”
Lance bites his lip, but he can’t help but groan and grunt when I pour the
alcohol along his various wounds. I dab the wounds with a cloth, then I wrap
gauze around his bicep. I do this to his legs, his stomach, his back, and a few
other places. Pretty soon he looks like a mummy that ran out of wrap. Harpoon
hands Lance his robe, which he gingerly puts on. I grab an icepack out of the
fridge and hand it to him, which he immediately places over his bruised right
eye. It may take a few weeks, but I have full faith Lance will fully recover.
He always does.
“What about you?” Lance asks, pointing at the bruises on my cheeks.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, waving him off. “Your injuries are much more severe.”
Lance is about to say something, but Blade excitedly says, “Why are you guys so
beat up? Who did you go after this time?”
“Yeah Lance, tell us!” Harpoon exclaims.
Lance proceeds to rattle off an animated tale of how we nearly took down one of
America’s most wanted criminals. Harpoon and Blade stare at Lance in wide-eyed
wonder, gasping and cheering at all the appropriate points. They really are the
world’s cutest kids. Blade is turning into such a handsome young man. He
reminds me so much of Dagger and Lance, with his shaggy blond hair, intense
blue eyes, strong jawline, and his slender but athletic looking physique. I can
see why all the neighborhood girls want to hang out with him.
Harpoon is just as cute. She is turning into a stunning young woman. Her long,
blonde hair dangles over her face as she follows Lance’s story with the same
intensity one would have watching an action-packed movie.
Lance finishes his tale without telling the kids we got screwed out of a
lucrative bounty. We try not to bother them with our monetary concerns. It’s
not something they should have to worry about.
Harpoon and Blade stare at Lance and me with huge, approving grins. They think
we’re superheroes or something, and it flatters me to no end.
After Lance finishes his death-defying story, he and I move to the living room
to watch the news. Krystal comes in a few seconds later. We always check out
the news because it gives us ideas and clues as to who we should go after next.
We’re always on the lookout for a lucrative bounty.
According to the reporter on CNN, there was a car bomb in the slums of
Sanctuary 3 today, killing 60 and wounding over 200. The police believe it was
the work of Canadian terrorists. And apparently over in China, Mikhail
Rasputin’s terror group, the Purple Dragons, blew up an elementary school,
killing nearly 300. They also attacked a police academy, killing dozens, and
are thought to have blown up a plane over Russia, killing another 150 people.
After that is a video of the Chinese Empress sitting atop her pile of skulls,
speaking to the American people in Chinese. (An English translation scrolls
across the bottom.) Speaking in a monotone, unemotional voice, the 17 year old
Empress of the world’s largest superpower accuses the United States of the
Americas of harboring Mikhail and thereby supporting his terrorist tactics. She
demands President Klaxton abide by the Klaxton-Xing peace treaty signed while
her parents were still alive and assist the Chinese in capturing Mikhail, a man
with the blood of thousands of Chinese on his hands. (The Chinese seem to
believe Mikhail is hiding out here, even though there’s absolutely no evidence
supporting that crazy theory.) If the Americans do not comply, the Empress
continues, she may be compelled to send special ops forces in after him. That,
of course, would be a precursor to world war. Video breaks
arm. “Your wounds are going to get infected.”
Lance bites his lip, but he can’t help but groan and grunt when I pour the
alcohol along his various wounds. I dab the wounds with a cloth, then I wrap
gauze around his bicep. I do this to his legs, his stomach, his back, and a few
other places. Pretty soon he looks like a mummy that ran out of wrap. Harpoon
hands Lance his robe, which he gingerly puts on. I grab an icepack out of the
fridge and hand it to him, which he immediately places over his bruised right
eye. It may take a few weeks, but I have full faith Lance will fully recover.
He always does.
“What about you?” Lance asks, pointing at the bruises on my cheeks.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, waving him off. “Your injuries are much more severe.”
Lance is about to say something, but Blade excitedly says, “Why are you guys so
beat up? Who did you go after this time?”
“Yeah Lance, tell us!” Harpoon exclaims.
Lance proceeds to rattle off an animated tale of how we nearly took down one of
America’s most wanted criminals. Harpoon and Blade stare at Lance in wide-eyed
wonder, gasping and cheering at all the appropriate points. They really are the
world’s cutest kids. Blade is turning into such a handsome young man. He
reminds me so much of Dagger and Lance, with his shaggy blond hair, intense
blue eyes, strong jawline, and his slender but athletic looking physique. I can
see why all the neighborhood girls want to hang out with him.
Harpoon is just as cute. She is turning into a stunning young woman. Her long,
blonde hair dangles over her face as she follows Lance’s story with the same
intensity one would have watching an action-packed movie.
Lance finishes his tale without telling the kids we got screwed out of a
lucrative bounty. We try not to bother them with our monetary concerns. It’s
not something they should have to worry about.
Harpoon and Blade stare at Lance and me with huge, approving grins. They think
we’re superheroes or something, and it flatters me to no end.
After Lance finishes his death-defying story, he and I move to the living room
to watch the news. Krystal comes in a few seconds later. We always check out
the news because it gives us ideas and clues as to who we should go after next.
We’re always on the lookout for a lucrative bounty.
According to the reporter on CNN, there was a car bomb in the slums of
Sanctuary 3 today, killing 60 and wounding over 200. The police believe it was
the work of Canadian terrorists. And apparently over in China, Mikhail
Rasputin’s terror group, the Purple Dragons, blew up an elementary school,
killing nearly 300. They also attacked a police academy, killing dozens, and
are thought to have blown up a plane over Russia, killing another 150 people.
After that is a video of the Chinese Empress sitting atop her pile of skulls,
speaking to the American people in Chinese. (An English translation scrolls
across the bottom.) Speaking in a monotone, unemotional voice, the 17 year old
Empress of the world’s largest superpower accuses the United States of the
Americas of harboring Mikhail and thereby supporting his terrorist tactics. She
demands President Klaxton abide by the Klaxton-Xing peace treaty signed while
her parents were still alive and assist the Chinese in capturing Mikhail, a man
with the blood of thousands of Chinese on his hands. (The Chinese seem to
believe Mikhail is hiding out here, even though there’s absolutely no evidence
supporting that crazy theory.) If the Americans do not comply, the Empress
continues, she may be compelled to send special ops forces in after him. That,
of course, would be a precursor to world war. Video breaks
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