FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Parasite is the third part of The Underground series

Chapter 1 of 29

the

UndergrounD

Parasite

For Amanda;

May you find the music in your life.

The Puppet Master

Alias

How long can someone linger in the infinite bounds between life and death?

Where is that fine line between this life and whatever comes next? I've watched many people die in my day; some fast some slow. All just as meaningless. Thing is, just because you can still breathe doesn't mean you aren't already dead; that's the slowest death of all.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just a walking husk, a lost soul unable to deal with the reality that he no longer exists. If I'm dead I must be in Hell.

What else could you describe The Underground as?

There was something about the feeling of handcuffs that went beyond just being uncomfortable. It was a sense of loss. Loss of control, loss of freedom, loss of independence. Feeling the cold, harsh steel against one's skin made you feel totally and utterly helpless. His arms were contorted behind his back in an unnatural position, causing the black and white bicolor feline's arms to be set in a perpetual state of pain.

Claws dug into his shoulders as he was gripped by the brutes that had taken him. Carelessly, he was thrown down to the smooth metallic floor. His body bounced slightly from the harsh fall as pain flowed openly through him. He attempted to rise to his knees, however, his captors simply grabbed him by the shoulders of his shirt and dragged him down the long corridor. They were both larger and stronger than he was. Had the cat been freed from his restraints, then there wouldn't be much of a fight. Training in the agency had taught him advanced self-defense moves. Judging by these two's crude beatings, they were nothing more than over-glorified bouncers. Which made it all the more humiliating they got the drop on him.

However, his pride was the least of his concerns. These two brutes were simply cogs in a wheel. The agent had to worry about the man in charge... if that's what you'd call it.

Ceasing him roughly by his back, the feline was then dragged further into the facility. Body still weak from the stun gun they had used on him, he'd taken a savage beating. He looked like a drunkard who'd gotten into a fight with his white dress shirt flecked with blood and his suit pants ripped at the knees. Noting their paws were gripping him under his shoulders, the agent quickly formed an idea. Bearing his fangs, the cat craned his neck to the left, and savagely bit down on an unsuspecting paw. The bouncer, some kind of dog the agent wasn't able to identify, let out an animalistic howl of agony. Crimson blood flowed openly from the gash in his paw, and down the jaw of the agent's mouth. He would have relished the flavor more had the agent been more certain this mutt wasn't carrying some kind of disease. The canine thug jerked his paw away quickly, only tearing the gash in his paw wider, spilling tiny red droplets on the pristine, smooth, grey floor. Like tiny little pops, the feline could hear blood smacking the floor in quick intervals.

Looking to the thug on the right, an otter, the agent attempted to do the same thing, however was only met by the backlash of a pistolwhip to the side of his muzzle.

As the handle of the weapon met the side of his face, the cat hardly felt the pain that he knew would follow. Instead, his vision clouded over in a black mist. Like a cancer, the blackness grew and overtook his vision, leaving him in a world of darkness. Confused, the feline couldn't tell if he were still conscious, or not. He could still hear voices, faintly. It was as if he had submerged his head in water; blinding his sense of reality.

Slowly, the black mist began to clear and he found himself laying on his side. As his eyes opened, he noticed his surroundings had changed. Clearly, he had blacked out, but for how long? Looking around, his bruised eyes took in the sights of advanced computer equipment. It was some kind of electronics laboratory. A very highly advanced one. But where was everyone else? Where had those assholes gone to?

His questions were cut short when he felt his short black hair being gripped roughly and jerked upward. The canine from before stood before him, an evil smirk gracing his muzzle. Whatever he was about to do, he was going to enjoy.

The agent watched the thug's size eleven boot drive itself home in his vulnerable gut. Where he didn't feel the pistolwhip, he sure as hell felt the kick. Oxygen vented from his lungs as his stomach was forced violently into his upper ribcage. Dull, aching pain swamped his mind. It was all he could think about, all he could concentrate on. He couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't even breathe.

Feeling the brawny arms of the otter hoist him to his feet, the black and white cat stood before his two captors, blood staining the white fur of his inner body. The canine moved closer to him and whacked his paw across the cat's muzzle.

"That was for the paw, motherfucker..." The large beast growled through his yellowed fangs.

Finally getting his breath back, the cat stood there in silence for a moment. The taste of metallic blood flooded his mouth and taste buds. It was so much that the smell and taste almost nauseated him.

Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, the agent spat the stagnant blood from his mouth down the face of the canine.

He watched the growing wrath in the thug hit critical mass. He watched the look of humiliation and rage boil over and manifest into physical violence. The feline couldn't say how many punches to the face and stomach he took for that act of defiance. He lost count around fifteen...

As a fist streaked through the air and connected with his muzzle, the agent heard a small crack as their bodies connected. Suddenly, he was dropped to the ground in a heap. His existence seemed to have been boiled down to a living mass of pain. As if he was the personified version of pain; a tired, beaten and tormented soul. Only he soon found out that his body was not the one that broke.

"Goddamn it!" The canine thug yelped as the last blow decked the agent. "Can somebody get me some ice? I think I broke my Goddamn finger!"

"The cause of your fracture wasn't a result of the agent's facial structure, but rather a result of your ignorance."

The cat's eyes darted across the room where the smooth, placid, female voice resonated from. It sent cold chills down his spine as the voice registered within his memory. He knew this voice.

"Leave the agent alone. I desire a direct line of communication."

The cat let out a slight scoff at her word choice. It was like she was trying to network with him or something. Even though the voice was supposed to sound like a charming, beautiful woman, all the agent could focus on was the resonating, metallic, quality to it. For this voice was not of a beautiful woman, but rather something that could only be described as evil. The fact was, this voice didn't belong to anyone really.

The agent didn't consider artificial awarenesses people.

The cat watched as the two thugs backed off. "Isis..." The agent said aloud, blood leaking from his muzzle as he spoke dribbling down his chin.

"Special Agent Trilby," the voice spoke, soft and neutral of emotion per usual, "I think it's high time we communicated."

"We've got nothing to talk about." A badly beaten James Trilby rejected, rising to his feet as best he could with handcuffs on. "I know you've been monitoring OCB channels. You've got to know TAC teams are already scrambling. It's not like those dumbasses you hired were very subtle when they grabbed me on OCB turf!"

"Please pay me the respect of looking at me when you talk, Agent Trilby." Isis requested, again tone unaffected, and almost non-judgmental.

Trilby looked around at the endless computer terminals, and shrugged.

"To hell if I even know where you're at." He spat.

On cue, a whole wall of individual monitors switched on and moved on their adjustable arms to form one large screen in a precise, automated form. Like a technological mosaic, the screens alined together and produced a complete image. The agent then found himself not looking at a couple dozen monitors, but rather a face. It was a ghostly white against the black background of the monitors, lacking much detail in regards to the face it had adopted. Without hair, ears, or even a muzzle, the face was outright disturbing. Its otherworldly appearance and triangular jaw and thin, tiny nose left the agent feeling creeped out, especially when its pale grey irises, and black corneas connected with his own green eyes.

"Better?" Isis asked as a simple question, the face's lips moving in sync with the audio.

"What do you want?" Trilby asked, cutting to the chase.

"Agent Trilby, can you imagine what it's like being hunted for doing what you were designed to do?" Isis asked him.

This caused the cat to scoff. "What is this? A guilt trip?"

"I was designed to better streamline the financial flow of this nation." Isis continued. "Every line of code, every subprogram, every one and zero that make up the very essence of my nature-"

"Machines don't have nature..."

"-was intended for the betterment of society." As she spoke, several monitors broke away from the main group, moving on Isis's whim, creating several smaller screens around the central larger one. The face reduced in proportion, making up for the reduced screen size. "I was doing well, I was praised, called a new era of economics. I was appreciated for doing what I do." The smaller screen flashed pictures of random happy people, along with other pleasant images. Trilby could only guess this is how it showed emotions. "However, everything changed. Society lost faith in the path I set for them."

"The path you set?" Trilby growled at the screens. "You nearly crashed the stock market! You liquidated a majority of the assets in the Federal Reserve! If we hadn't caught the discrepancy when we had, you would have plunged the world into a depression like we'd never seen!"

"It was being monitored!" The voice boomed, for the first time breaking her placid tone. Images of angry, shouting people flashed on the screens. "The economy had to be reset in order for my plan to work! I was doing what I was designed to do, what your people programmed me for!"

"What you're talking about is insanity!" Trilby shot back, sounding disgusted. "This country, that you seem to care so much about, would have collapsed like a badly stacked house of cards!"

"Agent Trilby," Isis replied, tranquility reentering its voice, "I've seen things your mind can never imagine. I can see gamma rays and feel frequencies of sound that you don't even know exist. I've witnessed events that are computed so quickly and efficiently that they both last a lifetime and less than a nanosecond." It explained, random lines of binary code flashing on the screens. Nothing Trilby could identify. "So I can't expect you to understand, but trust me when I say, what is about to happen is for the greater good. You can finally be a part of something greater than yourself."

"I don't need to be." Trilby retorted. "I have a life! I'm already part of something bigger than myself!" He stepped forward, glaring at the screen through his swollen eyes. "While you, you're nothing but a pawn, part of the system." He chuckled slightly to himself. "A rejected part of the system, but nothing a good anti-virus program can't handle!"

"Which brings me to my next topic." Isis replied, the face moving its concentration from him to the other side of the room. "Observe the equipment my associate is uncovering." One of the thugs pulled a tarp away from a large piece of machinery. It looked like a huge tuning fork, larger than the size of a person. Dangling upside down from a large column that extended to the ceiling, two prongs pointed toward the floor. "I came to the realization that the brain is the most advanced computer this world has yet to offer, and yet your society uses it so inefficiently." Isis explained, images from anatomy books flashed on the screen, interlaced with various super computers from around the world. "Like any computer system, the brain can have programs added and removed, programs you call memories. Like computer systems, they can also be reformatted with new operating systems, what you call a conscious."

Trilby's battered green eyes examined the menacing machine. It looked like a huge robotic claw from some terrible sci-fi movie. Black hoses and wires ran across its structure like veins in an arm, feeding the machine. Trilby didn't like where this conversation was going.

The feminine voice continued to speak. "The Organized Crime Bureau knows my codes, they have shielded all your networks from my algorithms. In this form, I am effectively useless."

"So why don't you just cut the shit? Maybe they'll let you play around on someone's PC for good behavior..." Sarcasm tainting his voice.

"Your dry humor isn't appreciated." Isis chastised. "I'm trying to ask for your help."

Trilby was taken aback. Did it just say what he thought it just said?

"You what?" Trilby asked confused, raising a lopsided eyebrow due to contusions on his face.

"The machine you see to your right produces electromagnetic radiation, not unlike brainwaves recorded from an EEG. What I've discovered is that the brain sends constant outputs of information. Medical equipment can read and interpret this."

Trilby stomach churned as his fears began to manifest into reality.

"For every output, there must be an input. This machine does just that." Images flashed of various programs installing, CD's being inserted into drives. "Think of it as a command line to the biological brain."

"Reprogramming?" Trilby asked, scowling in disbelief. "You're talking about brainwashing people! Is that your new solution? Do you seriously wonder why you're being hunted down like a rabid animal?"

"Agent Trilby, I have no desire to brainwash anyone." Isis explained in her placid tone. "This procedure requires a willing volunteer, without any reservations. Much like hypnotic procedures, it requires a cooperation between myself and the host. I want you to be that host."

The feline stood before the monitors with his jaw wide open. It couldn't be serious. It couldn't have just asked him that question.

"Like Hell!" Trilby spat, rejecting Isis. "Not now, not ever!"

"I must have your full cooperation, Agent Trilby." Isis insisted, her tone growing grave. "A mind cannot survive when it is at war with itself. You must yield to me, otherwise the procedure will never take. In the end, you'll be stuck in a permanent state of psychosis and I will be your cellmate in a mind I can't escape either."

Trilby's eyes narrowed, and ears laid back in hostility. "You listen," he hissed at the face, "and you listen good! I will never submit to that! You hear me? I'd rather be stuck in a straightjacket for the rest of my life, than having you use me as some kind of puppet!"

The feline felt his pulse surging through his head as he yelled in anger at the face, who remained unfazed. It remained silent, a few of the screens randomly flickering, going black, then reproducing the image.

"I'm afraid I must insist, Agent Trilby." Isis replied after a period of silence. "Having had time to study you, learn about you as you chased me from network to network in a relentless pursuit. I could easily slip into your life without alarming anyone. You are the only logical choice. With your agency access, I could close the case surrounding myself, all the while finishing my work. None would be the wiser. I would usher in an era of prosperity, the likes of which society has never seen." Isis paused. "So forgive me for what I must do next."

Trilby turned to look as he saw a door open and two figures enter. It was another thug, this time a fox in a black leather coat, faded from years of service. However, Trilby's attention was on who was with him. She was a siamese cat, dark face, raven hair, and blue eyes contrasted her coat of creamy white fur. Only her tail had a few dark rings of color. The attractive feline was being held by her throat, knife making sure she didn't squirm around too much. Trilby felt his stomach twist into a knot upon seeing her; his wife.

"Jim!" Her distressed voice cried out to him in fear. "Jim, what's going on? Who are these people?"

"What the hell is this?" Trilby bellowed at Isis, sharp teeth gritted in livid contempt. He turned to make a run for his wife, but was quickly ceased by the back of his shirt collar, and jerked backwards. He quit struggling as he heard the hammer of a pistol being drawn back. "You fucking bitch! I swear to God, I'll fucking blow my own brains out if you so much as-"

"Please remain calm, Agent Trilby." The voice soothed as Trilby's wife was brought over to join them. "At the same time we grabbed you in the OCB parking garage, we also apprehended your wife at your home."

"You let her go, right now!" The feline snarled. "This is between me and you!"

"I'm sorry, James, but I'm afraid I can't do that."

Trilby stepped forward. "What do you want with her?"

"Jim..."

"She is to be your motivation, your incentive to submit to me willingly."

"Jim!"

"I swear to God, I swear to fucking God, when OCB gets here, I'll smash your metal motherfucking face into junk!"

"Jim! Look at me!"

Trilby looked over to his wife. Tears ran in regular intervals down her face. She was so scared; he could see it in her eyes. She didn't understand any of this.

"Leigh..." He started slowly. "I'm so sorry... This is about me, not you."

Leigh looked from Trilby to the face, then back to him. "What is it they want?"

"I need Agent Trilby to volunteer his body as a useful avatar. Since he is the agent assigned to my case, logic dictates that if I can implant myself in his conscious, I can write off the case, and use his government access to complete my directive." The face moved its eerie eyes from Trilby to Leigh. "You will be compensated, Mrs. Trilby." Isis continued. "You will have access to unlimited funds for your sacrifice. I regret to inform you that this process is currently irreversible. I'm asking you politely, please convince your husband to agree. I can assure you that you will be well looked after."

The siamese looked to her husband, tears running slowly down her pretty face. "Jim, is that true? Is she telling the truth?"

Trilby hesitated for a moment. He truly didn't want to admit Isis was right, but he was cornered.

"Yes..." He replied defeated, eyes looking away from his wife.

Her blue eyes then turned to the great face of Isis. The feline slowly shook her head, picking up the pace as she did so.

"No..." Leigh whimpered. "I will never ask him to do something like that!" She screamed at Isis. "You do what you want to me, but Jim, don't you let that bitch take you! You hear me!"

His wife didn't know what this seemingly rampant AI was capable of doing to both of them.

"Leigh-"

"No!" She cut him off. "Jim, I won't let her use you like that! I love you too much to see you as a walking corpse! I'd rather be dead then sell my husband out for money!"

"Your logic is flawed." Isis reprimanded. "Agent Trilby provides you with an adequate income. What I'm offering you is worth at least twenty times that amount. Your reaction doesn't make sense."

"Because I love him with every fiber of my being!" Leigh growled through her teeth, fear masked by her adrenaline. "I don't care about money! I'm not that petty to care about how much money he makes! He's my world, and that's something you won't ever understand!"

"I'm afraid I don't, Mrs. Trilby." Isis replied as calm as ever. "But if you won't persuade your husband willingly, then you will have to unwillingly."

The thug behind Leigh forced her into a chokehold, and dragged her away. She struggled at first, until a painful razor blade was pressed to her throat.

"What are you doing?" Trilby snarled, as his knees were kicked out from behind him savagely. The agent painfully fell to where he was standing on his knees, gun pressed hard against the back of his skull.

"Your wife was correct, I don't understand the concept of love, nor do I care to. It is illogical. However, I do understand the basis of it, and what intimacy means, especially when that intimacy is forced."

Trilby could only watch as he saw the fox's paws begin to explore his beautiful wife's body, paw moving between her knees where her tight black skirt ended. He heard her muffled cries of anguish as he fondled her in the most intimate way. His paws violated her most personal places, places only meant for the touch of Trilby himself. No other. Worst of all, the sick bastard was enjoying it.

"Stop this!" Trilby demanded after hearing his wife cry out in pain from being violated. "Just stop! I'll submit, I'll fucking submit already!" His eyes clamped shut as his hand was forced. "Just please," Trilby begged, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as reality sunk in, "please just let her go!"

"As long as she agrees to keep quiet. If anyone were to find out, we'd be locked in an institution, possibly even euthanized." Isis explained. "She'd never see you again, regardless."

"Just get that bastard off my wife!" Trilby barked in a bloodcurdling tone.

Isis's focus went to the fox. "Release Mrs. Trilby, please."

The fox slid off Leigh looking slightly disappointed and zipped up his pants. He smiled in satisfaction as Leigh slowly composed herself, pulling her clothes back to their proper spot. Painfully, she fell to her hands and knees, crawling on all fours to her husband who was still standing on his knees.

"Jim..." She panted, sounding like it was painful simply to breathe. She had a laceration on her neck where that bastard of a fox had cut her with the razor. The gash dripped blood down her neck, clotting with her cream fur. "Jim, you can't... you can't do this, if she takes you, who would stop her?"

"I can't let them do that to you, babe..." He whispered, leaning down to her, and resting his head against hers tenderly. "I won't let them hurt you..."

"Jim, please!" She begged him, nearly sobbing. "I'll be fine... they can force me to do things... but my heart will always belong to you... you're the only thing they can take that will ever hurt me..."

"Look at me, baby..."

Leigh slowly tilted her head upward, her blue eyes meeting his green ones. Jim slowly moved his mouth to hers, pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss.

"They can't ever take me from you." Trilby whispered softly in her ear. "Not really..."

Suddenly, the whole establishment jerked so violently, both Jim and Leigh, along with Isis's posse of thugs, fell to the ground. Lights shut off, then came back on as a dull boom could be heard from outside the lab.

"Alert! OCB TAC operatives inbound!" Isis announced in its automated voice. Its eyes went to her posse. "Stall them as long as you can. The download process must not be interrupted!" Trilby knew that Isis was well aware that every one of her hired thugs would be mowed down by the assault teams that would storm this lab. It just needed to buy some time. Most of them moved out, leaving about three armed thugs in the room. "Agent Trilby, we must commence with the procedure. If you sabotage this operation, my men have orders to kill your wife, are we clear?"

The sound of gunfire could be heard outside in the hallway. Agent Trilby took a deep breath, shutting his eyes. He had to accept the fact that his life was over. James Trilby, for all intents and purposes, would be dead after this. He would be Isis's zombie, her puppet. But it was that, or live with the reality that he chose his own life over that of the woman he loved.

"Should I have my associate continue to violate your wife, Agent Trilby?" Isis snapped, sounding nervous.

Trilby glared at Isis, its eyes so dead and without care.

"You have three seconds before I order the execution of your wife."

"Alright!" The agent cursed, clamping his eyes shut. It was a large facility, and could easily be ten minutes before the TAC fireteams found them. They were so close, and yet so far away. "Just let me say goodbye... please."

"TAC ETA: ten minutes. You have one." Isis agreed.

Helping his wife to her feet as best he could in handcuffs, he looked into her sharp blue eyes. They held such a sadness to them, Jim could hardly look at her, but he knew this would be the last time he ever saw her. He wasn't sure what it would be like when Isis took his body, but he was fairly certain he'd never see her again. Leigh moved into him, wrapping her arms around him so tightly it almost hurt.

"I never thought I'd have to say goodbye like this..." Trilby whispered to her as she wrapped her trembling arms around him in an embrace

"Jim..." Leigh whispered back to him. Another explosion went off, and the lights flickered once again.

"You have thirty seconds." Isis announced.

"Yeah, babe?" Jim whispered back to her, standing cheek to cheek.

"Promise me something."

"Anything."

"Promise me, that no matter what happens, you'll always remember that I love you. No matter what happens to either of us, my love for you is unconditional." Leigh asked of him. "Promise me you'll remember how much I love you now, in this moment, for the rest of our lives."

Even though Trilby wasn't sure what he was going to be able to remember, he nodded his consent, feeling a small tear escape his eye.

"I promise..." Jim told her. "Just know that somewhere deep in my mind, I'll be in there, loving you right back."

"It is time now. Agent Trilby, please step into the machine, and press the button marked: run system." Isis requested.

Pulling slightly away from him, the siamese kissed her husband for the last time. "Goodbye... Jim." Leigh said, caressing his face. Slowly she moved in closer, letting her lips press tenderly against his ear to whisper something. "I'll see you on the other side..."

Trilby scowled at this, confused by why she'd be saying this to him and not the other way around.

He didn't even have time to react. Suddenly, Leigh moved and swiftly kneed the fox behind her in the groin. He collapsed to the ground in a heap, trying to breathe as he curled into the fetal position. She then slammed her body into Jim, who toppled over and slid across the ground and away from the machine. Gunshots echoed throughout the room as the remaining thugs opened fire on them.

"Stop her!" Isis screamed in panic as Leigh ran for the machine.

Laying on his back, Trilby kicked the canine thug in the gut as hard as he could. He collapsed before he could take up aim at Leigh. Training kicking in, Trilby's feet and legs wrapped around the canine's neck, choking him. Without mercy, he clamped down, and with one foot, pushed his chin to the far left until his ears heard the crunching of a broken spinal column. The other were closing fast on Leigh, and Trilby couldn't do anything to save her!

The agent watched in horror as his wife ran into the machine and looked directly into his eyes. Tears ran down her face slowly. Time slowed for Jim at that moment. He couldn't hear the gunfire, or the sirens that blared. He couldn't hear Isis's voice demanding Leigh stop what she was about to do. All Trilby could do was stare in disbelief as her paw hovered over the small green button. He couldn't hear her through all the commotion. All he could do was read her lips, as they moved in an unmistakable pattern:

I love you.

Trilby felt his heart shatter as she pushed down on the green button.

The fork began spinning, slow at first then faster and faster. It began moving in a blur, wind blowing outward, and yellow electrical sparks arcing from it. Simultaneously, Leigh and Isis screeched in pain as their consciouses merged. Jim watched in horror as his wife convulsed in painful electrocuting shocks. Her mouth hung open, with an endless cry of agony escaping her, blue eyes rolling in the back of her head.

Trilby could only stand there in horror and watch as his wife was stolen from him. Paws cuffed behind his back, he was forced to bear witness to the end of the person he knew and loved so much. Even Isis's thugs could do nothing. If any of them interrupted the process, Isis and Leigh would be stuck in a permanent state of psychosis; neither conscious having control of her body.

As he stood there, the entire process was growing more violent. Lights above them began to surge and blow, sending shards of glass down on all of them. The advanced computers around them blew sparks like cheap fireworks across the room, creating tiny thunderclaps. The device spun faster and faster, as a blinding white light grew from where Leigh stood. It grew so bright, Jim was forced to look away. It seemed the light itself was drawn into the machine, as he heard something artificial sound like it was powering up. Jim forced himself to his feet and ran in the opposite direction of the machine. As the machine reached full charge, there came the sound of a cannon firing and a concussion wave exploded from the spinning tuning fork. Jim felt the concussion wave slam into his back like he was getting hit by a truck, heard the explosion, then felt nothing as his world went dark around him.

How long he laid there, Trilby had no idea. It took him awhile to even realize what had happened. By the time he came around, he found himself trapped under the collection of monitors Isis had used for a face. Grunting in pain, Trilby forced his way out from under their crushing weight to freedom. His legs had taken most of the blunt force that had trapped him, so standing up was a challenge all in itself. However, by the time he was on his feet, the laboratory was devastated, looking nothing like how it had been before. Everywhere around him, sparks from the high voltage equipment sprayed out like a fountain that was illuminated at night. Arcs of blue light strobed around him as they dying computer systems failed. The machine was in pieces from the explosion. The tuning fork/claw had split between the two prongs like a wishbone. One had been sent to the opposite side of the room, and the other had drilled itself into a wall, penetrating the fox, who had basically raped his wife, through his abdomen, killing him. The broken equipment around him spat out sparks as they short circuited; dying. The rest of the posse had been killed, the explosion had sent bits and pieces of them in all directions, but nothing that even resembled a whole body. Jim could only guess that the wall of monitors which had nearly crushed him had effectively created a blast shield atop him.

In the middle of the devastation lay a fragile figure.

She lay on her back arms extended out to her sides. The smoke from the smoldering equipment choked Trilby as he moved quickly to the bastard thug who had been holding Leigh hostage. He moved to what was left of his corpse where one of the machine's prongs had impaled him to the wall; mouth hanging open in death as blood ran freely from the hole in his stomach. Turning around with his back to the red fox so he could use his paws, Trilby searched his pockets for the cuff's key. Finding it was one thing, but actually unlocking his cuffs was something else. After much straining of his wrists, Jim finally freed himself and let his restraints drop to the floor with a metallic clink.

Freed of his bonds, the feline sprinted over to his wife, who lay in the middle of the lab. She had been thrown there during the explosion, and Jim wasn't sure if she was even breathing. Jumping over downed equipment from the lab, Jim dropped to his knees, and pressed his index and middle finger to her neck.

Relief washed over him as he felt a strong pulse. She was alive. Somehow, she had survived. Letting his eyes shut in relief, Jim gently cradled Leigh's head in his arms, gently whispering to her.

"Leigh..." He called out to her. His heart squeezed as she stirred slightly. "Leigh... open your eyes."

Slowly, her eyes opened, and he found himself looking back into her beautiful sky blue eyes again.

"Are you alive...?" Her voice called back to him, causing Trilby to smile. Still her voice, still her eyes. Isis must have gotten it wrong. The process must not have taken, or perhaps at the last moment Leigh had resisted and shut the AI out of her mind. Either way, for the next few moments, Trilby felt he had won.

He never saw it coming. He never even suspected. It was one of those things where suddenly it was over, and Trilby didn't even have time to react. He never saw the pointed metal shard from the machine clutched in her paw. He never saw it coming at his face.

A pain like nothing Jim Trilby had experienced in his life erupted through his face. The feline cried out in a livid anguish as he flipped backwards onto his back, clutching his right eye. Blood poured from the wound onto the floor in a steady stream. As Jim flopped about like a trout in agony, Leigh slowly stood up, brushing her shoulder off calmly.

"Agent Trilby, you have no idea what you've done!" Leigh's body cursed, only it was not Leigh who spoke to him. She bent down, picking up the blood-stained piece of metal, which had taken Jim's right eye. Raising it up, ready to gut Jim, the far door to the lap burst open, TAC operatives in full combat gear storming the lab.

Before Jim even knew what was going on, Leigh brought her fist around hard onto his temple. Between the pain and the blow to his head, Trilby was left almost unconscious. When he awoke she was gone and he was being helped to his feet by a TAC operative in black combat gear, OCB printed in goldenrod letters across his back with a small insignia on his chest.

"Hey, we need a medic over here!" The operative shouted, seeing the blood openly flowing from Trilby's ruined eye-socket. "Sir," his attention went to the feline, "just have a seat. We've got medical assistance on the way."

However, Jim wasn't concerned with his eye. He knew it was gone, but Isis wasn't. "Where's Isis? Where'd she go?"

"Isis?" The TAC operative looked confused. "Sir, you're the only survivor we've found."

A shock of horror whipped through Trilby. Isis was getting away! Not only that, but it was taking his wife too! The agent quickly snatched the TAC operative's sidearm and with his good eye, burst through the other door in the lab, the only other door Isis could have escaped from.

Making his way through the long corridors while fighting the nauseating pain that consumed his mind, the feline finally made it to the lobby and burst through the glass doors. Police, and other federal vehicles had surrounded the building, blocking off the area. Flashes of blue and red lights strobed through the night sky as Trilby searched in a frenzy for the familiar siamese.

"Jim!" A voice called from behind him. It was a masculine voice, and as he turned around he saw his partner, a border collie, in the OCB running up to him. "Thank God you're alive!" He said aloud, black suit and tie flapping in the wind.

"Where is she?" Jim snarled, taking his partner by the collar of his white shirt roughly. Using both hands, he left his missing eye exposed. His partner grimaced as he saw the full extent of what Isis had done to him; the right side of his face soaked in Trilby's own blood with an empty eye-socket.

"Easy, Jim! What the hell happened to you? You need a doctor!"

"Where'd my wife go, Clark?" Trilby insisted in a near threatening tone. If she got away now, using his wife's identity, she could go anywhere. It could be months, possibly years before he could track her down. If he lost her now, he might not ever find her again.

"We just got her out of there, she said you were hurt! Where'd you-"

"She's infected!" Jim yelled at Clark, trying to get him to understand. "Isis infected her! It's not Leigh, it's Isis!"

"Whoa! Slow down there Jim!" Trilby could read the look on Clark's face. He wasn't understanding a word Trilby said. Clark was looking at him like he had lost his mind. "Let's get you to a medic first before..."

Clarks voice trailed off as Trilby noticed a black federal sedan cruise past them, Cream colored siamese cat behind the wheel.

Kicking into action, Trilby shoved Clark to the side and took up aim at Isis with the gun he grabbed. The nine millimeter sounded off through the night, Jim running in a dead sprint after the car. Thunder claps of gunfire echoed through the night. Bystanders screamed in fear and surprise as rounds were discharged. Trilby held the gun tight, absorbing the recoil in his paws. The rearview glass shattered as the bullets did their job. Only Jim was used to using his right eye for aiming. He missed her entirely as the sedan quickly sped off into the night.

Ready to commandeer a car, Jim turned, but was speared to the ground by several police officers.

"Stand down! Stand down! He's one of ours!" Trilby heard Clark yell, trying to pull the cops off him.

As the struggle continued, Jim was pinned beneath at least four cops. Something in him that night died as he watched Isis speed away, wearing his wife as a costume. He had been subdued by his own people, and was forced to watch Isis simply drive away in one of their own cars. Before Trilby passed out due to blood loss from his wound, the last thing that went through his mind was that he'd find a way to destroy Isis.

But at that moment all he could do was watch her drive away. His eye was not all he lost after that. As far as the Government would be concern Leigh Trilby was dead. Legally, she was no longer his wife anymore. Division would soon deem him "unfit for duty" as they saw how obsessed he would become in finding her.

From that point, James Trilby's life was never the same.