LOCATION: A prison somewhere in England.
TIME: A few days ago.
The Prison guards tapped the bars of the cells as they walk down the corridor. This day happens once every few years and they like to savor every moment. The guards chucked to themselves as they approached the isolation cell of Dr. Bryon Vorkink, the evilest man to ever be evil.
Playfully they tapped on his door. And opened the peephole
“Wakey, Wakey Vorkink!” the first guard yelled, “it’s time for you’re tri-annual Parole rejection.”
“I’ll be with you in a minute Gentlemen.” Bryon Vorkink replied in his smoothest English accent.
The guards looked at each other and shook their heads. Opening the Cell door they moved in. Bryon Vorkink sat casually in his favorite chair reading a book. He looked about forty years of age with raven black hair, which had been slicked back. He looked up at the guards casually with his steel grey eyes and smiled. His gaunt figure slowly rose off the chair and walked towards them. He placed his wrists out so he could be handcuffed.
“Are you ready to stay another ten years?” one of the guards joked
Bryon Vorkink looked at the man.
“Oh I think today’s going to be very different.” He sneered.
The parole board looked almost exactly the same it did the last time Bryon Vorkink sat in front of it. The warden sat nervously in the center while the two Prison Psychologists sat either side.
“Mr. Vorkink, do you believe that you have been rehabilitated.” The warden asked
“Absolutely,” Byron replied, “the regret if feel for the attempt to take over the world weighs heavy on my heart. My time in your facility has shown me the error of my ways.”
The Warden looked at his prisoner cautiously. He seemed genuine enough but he had been tricked by this evil genius before.
“Dr. Manning do you believe this prisoner is true to his word?”
“Unfortunately I don’t warden. Through various sessions with this prisoner I feel that if he was released he will return to endangering human lives.”
“I see,” the warden replied, “then I have no other option then to continue your sentence for another ten years.”
Bryon Vorkink smiled evilly at the Parole board.
“How unfortunate.” He replied
Throughout the hearing Bryon Vorkink was holding the book he was reading in his cell. Since he was only going to have his sentence renewed anyway the guards felt that it would do any harm for him to hold it. Bryon Vorkink turned to the middle pages of the book. He pressed the hidden red button and, moments later, the sidewall of the parole room exploded.
Bryon Vorkink henchmen quickly outnumbered the Prison Guards as they released their leader. Bryon walked up to the cowering warden.
“Better luck next time.” He laughed evilly
LOCATION: Headquarters of the Federal Office of Reconnance and Clandestine Engagements, Washington D.C.
TIME: Now
The Commander slammed his hand down on his desk hard. He glared at his agent with a fiery anger.
“This is unacceptable!” he yelled, “How could you have let this happen?”
Wilda Mendoza stood nervously in front of her boss. This would make the third time Vorkink had escaped from prison and the Commander was holding her personally responsible.
“I’m sorry sir. I was unaware that he had rebuilt his force so fast.” She apologized
“It was your job to make sure he stayed put Mendoza! Now we have a madman on the loose capable of anything!” The Commander blasted.
“I’ll get him back sir. You can count on me.”
“Not this time Mendoza! You’re off the case! I’m bringing in a new guy to handle Vorkink!”
“A new agent? But sir I’ve been working the Vorkink case for the last ten years.”
“That’s why you’re going to assist him. Vorkink know you too well Mendoza we need an agent he has never seen before! Someone dynamic and fierce! Someone so unpredictable that, not even Vorkink, could stand in his way!”
The Commander slammed his hand down hard on the button on his desk and a website appeared on the screen behind him. The Commander swung around sharply in his chair and pointed at the photo.
“Get me this man!” he yelled
LOCATION: a small apartment, Los Angeles
TIME: a day later
Andrew sat confidently at his kitchen table. He narrowed his eyes and prepared his hands for the task he was about to perform. Slowly he reached down and picked up his Han Solo and Jabba the Hut figurines.
“So Han Solo,” He boomed to himself, “you might be free from the carbonite but you will not survive my mighty Bounty hunters.”
Andrew dropped his Jabba figurine and picked up the Boba Fett one sitting next to it. He bashed them together making various blasting noises when a knock at his front door startled him. He put down his figures and made his way to the front door.
“Are you Andrew?” a sharply dressed woman asked as he opened the door.
Andrew looked her up and down. She was about five for nine with long red hair and electric blue eyes. She was wearing a figure hugging black power suit. Andrew lent against the doorframe nervously.
“Who wants to know?” he asked
The woman pulled out a badge and showed it to him.
“My name is Agent Wilda Mendoza. Are you Andrew?” she asked officially
Andrew folded his arms awkwardly. This caused him to slip backwards of the doorway. He quickly regained his footing.
“I might be. How do you know you have the right apartment?” he replied
“Well . . . there’s a sign on the front of the door saying ‘Andrews place’.”
“I might be house sitting.” Andrew replied shifting awkwardly on the spot.
“You’re also wearing a sticker saying ‘Hello my name is Andrew’.”
Andrew looked down to the sticker on his t-shirt. Fidgeting quickly his attempt to remove the sticker he got from yesterdays Star Wars fan club meeting failed miserably. Giving up, he resumed his leaning.
“You’ve seen through my clever disguise,” he replied in his version of confidence, “good job. I bid you welcome to my fortress of Solitude.”
Andrew moved away from the door and Wilda entered. She looked around the apartment carefully. The place could have resembled a fortress except for large piles of comic books and pizza boxes that covered the floor and any other available surface. Quickly cleaning off one of the leather armchairs he sat down quickly and assumed an evil villain pose.
“So. What does a fair maiden like yourself want with me?”
“We need your help,” Wilda replied, “a very dangerous man known as Bryon Vorkink escaped from prison a few days ago and our database has shown that you have the skills for the job.”
“Really?” Andrew replied curiously, “ah . . . I mean Yes, of course it does. To trap the Criminal mind you have to know the Criminal mind. That’s why you came looking for me isn’t it? You needed the experience of a former Super Villain.”
“Super Villain?” Wilda asked
“I see I have underestimated you detective skills. Yes I was once part of a powerful evil organization know as the trio.” Andrew announced smugly
Agent Mendoza looked at Andrew in confusion. Slowly Andrews smile faded.
“The trio? We held a small town in the grip of terror for a while?”
“No I don’t think I have ever heard of ‘the trio’?” Wilda replied
“It’s cool,” Andrew replied a little deflated, “that time has passed. Like Anakin Skywalker in ‘Return of the Jedi’ I have forsaken my evil ways and returned to the light side of the force to be the Jedi I one was.”
A small feeling of concern passed through Agent Mendoza. Maybe this man wasn’t whom the Commander made him out to be.
“That’s . . . good. We have to leave now our plane to Washington will depart soon.” Wilda Mendoza said
“Very well,” Andrew replied, “I’ll need to be back before seven. I have to pick up a Princess Leia slave girl costume from the drycleaners for tomorrows convention.”
Wilda grimaced at the mental picture that Andrew just gave her. Realizing what he just said Andrew looks around nervously.
“It’s not for me . . . it’s for a friend . . . a female friend . . . who is definitely not me!”
LOCATION: a plane journey somewhere between Los Angeles and Washington.
TIME: an hour later
“I’ve been going through you’re record Andrew and I want to clear something up.” Wilda Mendoza commented
“Sure okay.” Andrew replied still excited about the free plane ride
“It says here that you use to be employed as something called a watcher?”
“Yep. I was trained by the wise and noble Rupert Giles to be the guardian of the slayer of the vampires.”
“Right . . . it also says here that you were fired? What happened there?”
“It was totally unfair,” Andrew, snapped back impatiently, “I put my heart and my soul into that job. Just because I lose one or two . . . or fifteen of the slayers doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Fifteen?”
“I know! They were totally out of line. They started, like, yelling at me using words like ‘incompetent’ and ‘idiot’. Plus the use the ‘F’ word more then three time which isn’t very professional in my opinion.”
Wilda’s Concerned feeling just elevated it’s self to panic.
LOCATION: Headquarters of the Federal Office of Reconnance and Clandestine Engagements, Washington D.C.
TIME: two hours later
The intercom buzzed on the desk of the Commander. He pressed the button heavily.
“What is it Linda!?” he barked
“Agent Mendoza has returned with the man you requested.” Linda replied
“Send them in.”
The door slid open and Agent Mendoza walked in with a timid looking Andrew trailing behind. The Commander looked Andrew up and down. Although Andrew was only wearing a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt bearing the slogan ‘I am your master now’ the Commander felt that he still was up to the task of defending the world.
“Sir this is Andrew, Andrew this is the Commander. Head of the Federal Office of Reconnance and Clandestine Engagements.” Agent Mendoza introduced
“Good to meet you son!” the Commander yelled making Andrew jump back slightly.
“Whoa, okay. Using your outdoor voice,” Andrew replied nervously, “Wait, the Federal Office of Reconnance and Clandestine Engagements? You guys are the F.O.R.C.E.?”
“That’s right sport! The first dang line of defense for this great nation and the world.”
“Sir, I think we should get to the get to the briefing.” Agent Mendoza commented
“So. When the president is, like, in trouble or something he uses the F.O.R.C.E.,” Andrew chucked to himself, “that is so cool!”
“I Like you boy!” the Commander yelled making Andrew jump again, “You remind me of me! But you’re right Mendoza we have to get down to work.”
The Commander slammed his fist down hard on one of the buttons on his desk and a photo appeared on the screen.
“This is Bryon Vorkink, the meanest son of a gun anywhere, we just learned that he was busted out of prison and is on the loose somewhere in Europe.”
“That’s not good,” Andrew, replied, “You should get someone to find him.”
“We have . . . you.”
“What?” Andrew replied with shock
“I’ve been a big fan of your website for some time now boy! If you can do half the stuff you say you can do on it then I know I’ve found the right man!” the Commander boomed
“Oh . . . that, um, you might want to find some more help.” Andrew replied nervously
“Nonsense! Says here you destroyed an entire town full of terrorists only using a necklace! That’s the type of quick thinking I want on my squad!”
“Yeah . . . about that, see, I might have stretched the truth a little.” Andrew replied
“Modest and talented! You can learn a lot from him Mendoza!”
Wilda looked at the both of them nervously. Either one of them was going to get her killed she just wasn’t sure which one would first.
“Okay you two saddle up! You’ll be flying to Europe tomorrow!”
“Wait!” Andrew insisted, “don’t I get, like, training and cool guns and stuff?”
“You’re website says you know all the things we were gonna teach you. No sense in running you through those things again.”
“Well maybe it would be cool to, you know, have like a pop quiz or something.” Andrew replied nervously
The Commander stared at the nerd and stroked his thick bush moustache.
“Good thinking boy! I’ll have Mendoza run you through some drills. Be on the training field at 0600”
“What time’s that?” Andrew asked
“That’s six am.” Mendoza replied
“Oh. Can’t we do a lunch thing?”
“Nope! Bright and early!” the Commander replied, “makes a good agent better!”
“Okay. Cool” Andrew replied weakly as he left the room.
The Commander folded his arms and smiled brightly
“That boy is going to save us all!” he announced
“Ah . . . sir,” Mendoza replied, “Doesn’t he seem . . . unqualified to you?”
“Hell no! That boy’s holding back! Waiting for the real fight to happen! Follow his lead Mendoza and someday you’ll make senior agent.”
“Sir I’m already a senior agent.”
“Not anymore. I gave that to him.”
“Oh god.” Wilda replied as Wilda’s panicked feeling just elevated it’s self to hysteria.
|
|
|
|
Rave
Barbie Girl (Becca)
biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
Malice (Jess)
MebbtheScribe (MichaelB)
Reset (Allie)
Shay (Marrisa)
somnambulist29 (Shea)
Stephanie Loss
Wendyness (Wendy)
Questions?Contact Us
|
|
All stories on this site have been archived with the authors' consent. Do not copy these stories for your own uses without the express consent of the author themselves. Buffy the Vampire Slayer TM and Angel TM are © UPN, WB, Fox and its related entities. All photos on the site are © UPN, Fox, Warner Bros, and/or their respective owners. No profits are being made by use of these images.
Powered with the assitance of eFiction.
|
|
|
