[center][hr][h1]Agent Barabas and NEST[/h1] [hr][/center] There was dull germ of gray light sauntering down from the half-burnt garage light overhead. A thick layer of filth blocked out most of the illumination, but left just enough to let shadows dance around the room and stalk the dark corners. David could scarcely see much beyond his blindfold as he struggled to break out of the double-bound plastic ties cuffing his hands. He wasn't sure what was anchoring his foot to the floor, but he'd soon find out. Just a little more tension and he could break the ties. He could feel it. In the that moment, when the hope for escape seemed possible, he heard the metallic creak of a heavy door open and shut. "Who's there?!" Through his blindfold, he saw the silhouette of a tall figure cross in front of the light and stand opposite of him. "H-Hey, man! You can't fucking keep me here! This shit ain't legal, man-I got [i]rights[/i]!" An undaunted voice that sound like it had been raked through gravel answered him with a hearty laugh. "Don't get so jumpy. We just had to blindfold your for security reasons." The figure stepped over and removed the strip of cloth. David couldn't make out much of this guy's features. With the light behind him, shadows obscured too much of his face. But the uniform, he recognized immediately: he was part of NEST. When he sat down across from David, the dust-coat bulb above shed light on his identity: Agent Emilio Barabas. Emilio pulled a hot dog from a brown bag at the foot of his chair. If the grease stains on the bag and the delicious smell of cooked meat was any indicator, it was piping hot and fresh. "So I'm just give to ya straight, Dave. You don't mind, if I call you Dave, do ya?" He didn't wait for a response. "Great! Well Dave, as you and I both know, dereliction of duty is essentially treason when you're a NEST Agent. Getting hit with an Article 85 would be peachy compared to what NEST's as-of-yet-unnamed branches are going to hit you with." A wry grinned sneaked into Emilio's expression; he seemed amused by his own words. "But there's a catch, isn't there? Otherwise, you'd be dead already." He held out the beef frank with a charitable gesture. "Here eat some first. You're probably starving, Dave" David looked at Emilio and then at the heavy steel clamp around his ankle and at the anti-meta collar cuffed to his neck. "Kinda hard to eat with all this hardware on me? You mind at least takin' the ties off." Emilio smiled pleasantly. "Sure Buddy, whatever you need." He flicked out a long, serrated utility knife from his sleeve, and fixed his eyes on David with hawk-like focus, a predatory gaze that made the captive traitor sweat even harder. Emilio was waiting for this, waiting for David to show a chink in his armor. "You alright, Dave? Lookin' a little pale." His expression changed instantly. Every word and nuance seemed genuine. He looked and sounded genuinely concerned for David's health, but the transition was suspiciously quick. He stepped over and cut David's bindings. David tried to hide it, but just feeling the sudden lack of tension around his wrists made him jump in his skin. Something about Emilio unsettled him. He knew better than to try escaping. If it wasn't for that damn power-dampening collar, he would already be gone; he could just phase through the chair and cuffs. Instinctively, he rubbed the red marks circling his wrists as Emilio held out the hot dog for him, which he took reluctantly. One bite and his mouth was watering. [i]God,[/i] It was so good. Having been on the run for two months now, made eating regularly difficult and he hadn't had much to eat the past few days. Emilio sat down again, crossed his arms nonchalantly, and waited for him to finish. "So what's your deal?" David ground out with a bit of chewed food stuffed in his cheek. "So what's this 'catch' you're talkin' about?" "Agent David Emerson was the last person to be assign for deep field infiltration of Hands of Science facilities. That's you Dave." David stopped eating. "That means you know some useful shit, doesn't it? And I need to know what you know." He studied David for a moment, trying to guess how hard he'd have to push to get what he needed. "I'm here to offer you a way out." He nudged the greasy paper bag with his foot. "There's a wad of cash and an unregistered pistol under your french fries here. And I can personally pull the hounds back for you finish your Houdini act and disappear... permanently." David scoffed. When everything sounded too good to be true, it was usually a trap. "You'd make a great salesman, but I'm not buyin' it." He looked at the bag and then at Emilio. "So what're you gonna do, if I say no?" Emilio looked disappointed. "Do you even need to ask, Dave?" He shook his head and sighed. "Of course, I'm going to kill you. What the fuck else am I gonna do, if you decide to be useless sack of shit?" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Fuck you, man... [i]Fuck you![/i]" A deep scowl crossed David's face. "I don't care, if you kill me. I don't even care if the food was poison. You think your a scary motherfucker? There ain't shit you can do to me that's worse than what I've already seen. They have living, breathing nightmares so bad you'll go crazy just lookin' at 'em. So you want to put bullet in my head? Fine, go ahead." He leaned forward to match Emilio's hard stare. "I'll fucking enjoy it." Emilio flashed a wicked smile. "That's no bueno, Dave." He sighed in feigned frustration. "I really thought we could be friends, ya know?" He leaned down and reached for the paper bag. Capitalizing on that fraction of second when Emilio's attention seemed to waver, David leapt into action. With a tight grip on the back leg of his chair, he slid the the folding metal from under him, and with a hard yank, collapsed it into its flattened form. In one fluid motion, he directed the heavy side of the aluminum chair at Emilio's head. Emilio rolled to the side, but the edge of it caught his brow. David was well-trained, but still had to recover from the upswing. Emilio shoved a kick into the rogue agent's exposed ribs. A quick hand was there to knock it away, but he managed to duck the downswing as the flat metal bludgeon cut across the air and bit into the floor. Emilio brought his arms up, the muscles under his jacket rippled in series and burst a few shoulder seams as he pounded hard into the side of David's knee. It didn't buckle, instead it rocked with the blow and forced Emilio to snake away from a pointed elbow strike from David's swinging arm. A loud clatter echoed through the room as the chair slammed into the floor. David ditched it. It made him too slow. The two exchanged cuts and bloody bruises in a wild flurry. Both were expert combatants and their experience showed. But Emilio had the advantage: his footwork gnawed at David's weakened knee, effectively preventing his opponent from maintaining his center balance. David felt winded. Every hit from Emilio seemed to steal away his energy. [i]"Bastard's not even using his knife. He's fuckin' playing with me".[/i] He knew he was losing. He tried creating some distance between them, but with his right foot anchored to the floor, he was sitting duck. Behind Emilio, he caught a glimpse of a metal plate on the floor with massive bolts fastened to it at each corner. It gave him an idea. He wormed his way through the next few feints and counters, finally managing to land a solid hook into Emilio's jaw, but realized very quickly impact didn't feel as dead-on as expected. [i]Shit[/i]. David lunged forward, trying to ram his shoulder into this smiling bastard, so he'd take a nice tumble and impale himself on those floor bolts. This was the moment Emilio was waiting for. He felt it in how the air rushed into him and leaned into it. With expert precision he slipped his left hand under David's opposing arm, lifted slightly to expose the neck, and pressed the bony edge of his forearm against the base of David's neck as the two fell straight down. Nearly the full weight of Emilio's upper body slammed into his captive's spine, but enough of the impact was blunted by the dampening collar, leaving David broken and unconscious, but not dead. Emilio stood up, straightened his suit, and delivered one last parting gift: a swift kick to David's ribs. Hearing the pained groan that floated up from the limp wreckage of meat and bones was enough to satisfy Emilio's spite. The adrenaline still rushing through his veins kept him tense and wiry, but once it subsided he exited to room. Turning to the agent stationed outside, he said "Alright, Julie. Gut him and wipe the slate clean. Once you finish the extraction, we'll leave him on NEST's doorstep. He'll make a nice paperweight for our fellow 'detectives'." Julie nodded and headed inside. She was short woman with fiery red hair and an athletic figure. Her cute, round face belied the fact she was a terrifying metahuman. NEST dubbed her Tabula Rasa. She was a tactile mind-reader, but her real value came from being able to wipe other memories with just a touch. The pair made up one of NEST's unregistered "eraser" teams. Julie entered into the corridor with a bored expression. "I'm getting really tired of cleaning up messes." Emilio took a long drag on his cigarette, obviously enjoying a quick smoke break. "Yeah..." he said making smoke rings with his mouth. "I wouldn't worry about it. We're not going to be here much longer anyway." She stuck her thumb over her shoulder, which meant he was supposed to "get off his lazy ass and do his damn job". Emilio knew the look even, if she didn't speak. He mockingly saluted her with the cigarette barely hanging on his lip. "Yes ma'am! I'll get right to it." "Don't take too long, we'll miss our flight." She shouted over her shoulder, pausing briefly to jot down notes on a small flip pad. "The charity ball is tonight." "Yeah, yeah. Whatever..." His voice echoed from the dark chamber. - - -