[center][b]Prologue[/b][/center]


[b]Budapest
2310 Local Time[/b]


Theodore Roosevelt walked through the lobby of the hotel as calmly as possible. A defector from the Secret Soviet Union was on the top floor with James Madison. The plan was for Madison and Roosevelt to debrief him here in Budapest before smuggling him back into America where a more thorough debrief awaited at Mount Rushmore. The man, an ex-KGB colonel, knew the ins and outs of the secret Communist cabal the Executive Branch still knew very little about. If they could get him to America, then they would finally have an idea on how the Russians worked.

Roosevelt wore a plain black suit and tie with a white shirt. The magic of the EB's mages distorted his face to the public at large. To those out of the loop, the twenty-sixth president of the United States of America looked just another accountant or some paper pusher instead of what he really was. He pressed the top button and waited for the doors to close. They were nearly shut when a hand reached through and caused the automatic doors to spring back open. A dark-haired man in a tuxedo gave Roosevelt his thanks and selected his floor before the doors finally closed.

Theodore gave the man a glance out the corner of his eye. His tuxedo was of a baggy cut, but he could tell the cloth hid a muscular frame underneath. His dark hair, which was gelled and combed back, had bits of gray in it. There was a thick black goatee on his face. There was something oddly familiar about him, and Roosevelt was overcome with the sense of déjà vu by just glancing at the man's profile. He kept his eyes forward, but his body language told Teddy that he was on high alert and focused on something. A cold, numb sensation began in the pit of Teddy's stomach. He was not a believer of things like a sixth sense or telepathy, even in the shadow world of magic and advanced science he now inhabited, but a lifetime constantly seeking out danger gave him an acute sense of recognizing it and when it was imminent.

Roosevelt flung himself backwards just as the man's large fist moved to strike him. He grabbed the man's wrist with one hand to try to twist it backwards behind his back, but the man's muscles tightened and flexed. He slapped Roosevelt hard in the face with the open palm of his free hand. He reeled backwards and slammed against the lift's wall. While sTeddy recovered, the assassin slapped the emergency stop button at the tenth floor and began to encroach towards him.

Teddy pulled a compact Glock from a shoulder holster in suit. He was aiming it when the man's powerful hands slapped it out of his grip. The gun clattered to the floor as the man got his hands around Roosvelt's neck and lifted him upwards. The top of his head smashed against the lift's ceiling, knocking a light fixture loose and popping the fluorescent lightbulb. The small space was now basked in half-shadow as the man throttled Teddy's neck. His tough hands scratched at his throat the way sandpaper scratches at wood. He kept his eyes forward and watched Teddy with gleeful anticipation as he squeezed the life out of him.

Flailing, Teddy's foot connected with the man's chest with the heel of his shoe. The shock from the blow caused the killer to drop his prey and stumble backwards holding his chest. Roosevelt slammed against the floor of the lift and coughed violently as air returned to his lungs. He looked up and saw the man sucking for air as well. The Glock was in the far corner beside the assassin. Teddy stood just as the man was standing.

"Suppose we can't talk this out like civilized people?" he asked the man in a rough, scratchy voice. "Come to some sort of consensus?"

"Talking is for cowards," he said in a thick Russian accent. "But we will talk like the real men used to."

"Bully," Teddy said with a wide grin.

Like that, he was back on Roosevelt with his wide fist cutting through the air. He held an arm up and blocked the blow with a left forearm. The blow sent shockwaves of pain through his arm, but it didn't affect Teddy'ss aim as she struck the man in the face with a right hook. The blow knocked the man unbalanced, and Teddy kept up the barrage with a series to body blows to the chest and sides. He had been a boxer at Harvard many years ago, and that old training came back as he worked the man's upper body over like a side of beef. Teddy had the man backed up against the side of the lift, but any advantage he had evaporated when the assassin grabbed one of his blows with an open palm and flipped him hard on to the lift floor. The wind rushed out of his lungs and he gasped for air. While Teddy struggled, the man stood over her.

"Not bad," he said with a slight bow. "Especially for an old man like you. I have met better, but not many. You were nearly a worthy opponent, President Roosevelt, but you were not good enough. The Secret Soviet Union sends its regards. Rot in hell, American сука."

The man raised his leg and was bringing it down when Teddy rolled to his right. The foot came down on the lift's metal floor with a loud metallic bang. Teddy swept his left leg, knocking the man to the ground. He again saw the Glock on the floor out of the corner of his eye. He rolled in its direction, picking it up in his hand. Before Teddy could turn, he felt the powerful assassin's hands around the back of his neck. Roosevelt swung the gun behind his head and felt the butt of the weapon strike the man square on the head.

The blow didn't seem to faze him, as his powerful hands reached out to take the gun away from Teddy. They struggled with each other, rolling on the floor. In their tug of war, one of them squeezed the gun's trigger. It went off straight up in the air, first a three round burst then the rest of the rounds in the magazine followed. Roosevelt kicked away from the killer and yanked the Glock from his grip. Turning, he struck him again with the gun, this time straight across the face with the barrel. He screamed as the gun's iron sight scratched across his eye.

There came a loud metallic twang from above, followed by a groan. Both Teddy and the assassin looked up. The gunshots had pierced the lift's ceiling, one of bullets must have damaged the cables that operated the lift. Roosevelt and his would-be killer exchanged looks before they tried to strike. While the assassin reared back for another punch, he used his left hand to poke the killer in the scratched eye. He screamed again, falling back to the floor. There was another twang, this one shaking the lift. Teddy carefully stood while the killer rolled on the ground. He tried to pry open the lift's doors as gently as possible while the man tried to regain his composure. He was on his hands and knees when Teddy kicked him in the face and dropped him to the floor again. With a wedge big enough to pass through, Teddy stomped down on the lift's floor hard before he slid through the opening. He came through the doors and out on the tenth floor just as the lift's cable gave a loud twang and a snap, the man's scream was loud at first, but got smaller and smaller as the car fell down towards the lobby.

Breathing hard, Teddy bent down and rubbed his sore neck with her hands. He heard a crash and a rumble far below him. "Looks like he found his floor," he said softly to himself.



[center][b]Old Soldiers Never Die
An Executive Branch Adventure[/b][/center]