Something Found

            Ian drove past the Scorpion HQ as he was want to do before entering the parking lot, and today he was glad he did. It was still a whole day early but Ian couldn’t sit around the house and do nothing. Nor could he search for leads on Thor from there. Ever since Monroe’s death, security has been stepped up around everything remotely military or classified.

            Today, a small group of agents was gathered outside talking to the Colonel. Ian drove past and continued down the road, reaching over to the windscreen mount where his phone was, searching for Ed’s number.

  “Dude, they found me,” said Ian as Ed answered.

  “The Others?”

  “Yes, the bastards are at Scorpion HQ now, meet me at Project 8; we need to plan an attack,”

            A few minutes alter Ian pulled up to his usual parking in the parkade of the office park where his game development company was based. Ed pulled in next to him moments after he stopped. Together they made their way to the Project 8 offices.

            Ian had phoned Dev after he had finished talking to Ed and warned him they were on the way, so when they got there all three of them retreated to a far corner to be out of earshot of Melisa.

  “How many?” asked Dev in a hushed voice.

  “Six, counting the two in the van,” said Ian.

  “How the hell did they find us? I mean, you weren’t even on the news with Monroe’s death,” said Ed.

  “I’ve got no idea,” said Ian.

  “I do,” said Melisa and all three of them turned to face her, and the gun she was pointing at them.

  “Fucking cunt,” Devon swore, “we hired one,”

  “They’ll be here any second,” she said, almost apologetically, and then turned the gun around offering it to Ian, who took it sceptically.

            As he took the gun from her, Devon punched her out cold. Both Ian and Ed stared at him. In all the years they knew him, they never thought he’d lay a hand on a woman…at least not in that way.

  “You just hit a woman,” Ed voiced.

  “I just knocked out an enemy combatant,” he corrected, “now, are we going to arm ourselves or not?”

            They opened a strong box hidden in the same corner. It contained their backup weapons, a composite bow and broad head arrows for Ed, two unadorned steel long swords for Ian, and a hand and a half bastard sword for Devon. Apart from the medieval weapons, there was a pistol for each.

            They armed themselves and were about to leave out the front door when a single Others agent stepped inside with a massive great sword slug across his back.

  “Go,” Ian told the other two, “down the fire escape, I’ll deal with this asshole,”

  “Tall words,” said the man in a gruff voice, “for a boy,”

  “You should have your eyes checked, old man,”

            Ian stood in his favoured stance, his offhand blade held in reverse and high for best defence and his main hand held at waist height, for best offence. The Others agent drew his blade and held it high above his head, an old stance that Ian knew all too well, it was one of the most powerful and flexible two handed stances.

            They stared at each other for a long while, neither of them moving. Ian knew how to attack such a stance but he still avoided doing it. He was toying with the man, trying to get him to strike first. And it worked.

            The man charged at him and Ian sidestepped as the blade came down, the cut at the man’s exposed flank. The man spun sideways and cut upwards at Ian. Ian parried the blow with his right hand and struck with his left at the same time, drawing blood.

            The man grew angry and stared to deliver more fearsome blows, it got to the point where Ian could no longer safely parry the blows without causing serious harm to his libs, so be started dancing around them, and cutting at the man as he left himself exposed. This failed once, though, and the man managed to land an uppercut, just barely. Ian had leaned back to avoid the blow but the tip managed to cut him from cheek to hairline on the right side of his face.

            After that, the fight started going downhill for the Others agent. Ian hamstringed him, causing the man to loose balance and kneel in front of him.

  “They taught you well where you came from,” said the man smiling up at Ian as he placed his swords on opposite sides of the agent’s head.

  “They did not teach you well where you came from,” Ian said and made a scissor movement with the blades, removing the man’s head.

            Ian had only attempted this once before, and it was every bit as bloody. The previous time the corps had fallen sideways as the head rolled off, blood pooling quickly. This time, the head kind of pop off and the corps slumped backwards. The head fell back onto the corps and rolled towards Ian’s feet.

            As he headed towards the door he could hear the sound of fighting coming from outside, it was the sound of steel on steel which relieved him somewhat as it meant that no one had fired a weapon yet, except maybe Ed.

            As he ran down the halls, he wondered how the fighting was going below.