#bryanhasanswers

A continuation... to catch part one - go here.

I pulled my beat up old Hudson Terraplane in front of the location where I was supposed to meet my target. 

The unfortunate slob was a rogue operative - Robert (Baba) O’grady. Another dope who thought he could outsmart all of that state-of-the-art surveillance and sneak my employer’s plans to the highest bidder. I closed my eyes and brought up the picture that had been downloaded to my mainframe.

Our fancy boy’s a real little hipster and likes the good-life. But he’s been funding it with our blood. Lessee now... blue eyes, blond hair - wavy. Looks like Baba’s sportin’ a wispy beard and mustache combo too... kind of a goatee thing goin’ on there.

Precious little Baba had been compromising the safety of our agents for several years. I have a list of the men and women who are dead or are wishing they were, because this creep needed a new Ferrari. 

But a few months ago, the girls and boys at Langley had gotten wise to his antics and have been feeding him false info. So now that his primary connections are neutralized, they just want this asshole dead.

That’s where I come in. Young, suckling Baba thinks he’s here to meet a new customer who wants to pay big bucks for a list of undercover CIA agents working abroad. Instead, he’s gonna meet me. 

Won’t that be fun?

This was gonna go down by the numbers - ID the subject, initiate contact and annihilate. 

But as locations go - this place was kind of atypical. 

For real? A book and liquor store??

I got out of the truck and slammed the door and winced as a chunk of rust flaked off and hit the road. 

Fuck, I need to do something about that...patch it up or somethin’.

Then I crossed the street and tried to peer through the store window. It was hard to see into the darkened interior past all the junk and other bullshit jammed in there.

I stepped back closed my eyes and did an internal search to make sure I was at the right geo and looked at the sign once more time.

Yeah, this is it alright... “Dr. Ebeneezer’s Book and Liquor Store.” 

I pushed the door open and squeezed in as the friendly little bell tinkled. I immediately started scanning the area - no sign of anyone except the 50 something dude behind the counter. He looked up at me briefly over his glasses and then looked back down at the dusty yellow book he was leanin’ over. He had a worn grey cardigan on over a blue, or maybe it was gray, button down shirt.

I cleared my throat and asked...

“So, are you, uh... ‘Dr. Ebeneezer? Yeah... I’m supposed to meet someo-”

Without looking up, he raised a hand to silence me.I noticed the threads on his frayed cuff as he ruffled what was left of the hair on the top of his head and muttered to me around his pipe.

“We gotta special this week. BO-GO on Russian literature and vodka - it’s back there - take a look.”

Then he waved absently in the general direction of the rear of the store.

// @bryanhasanswers​

Nina’s eye twitched very slightly at Fury’s clear attempt at getting under her skin... yet again. Why was it that every time he came around he had to bring an irritating headache with him?

“You’re a little late to the party, Fury. I quit awhile back.” Working for Jin was one thing, but she would never stoop so low as to let herself work for a egotistical power hungry moron such as Heihachi for long. Just long enough until she had the information she needed. The second she had that, she bid that horrid place goodbye. If Jin wasn’t returning anytime soon, it wasn’t worth her time. 

But the question is, why should any of that matter to Bryan? She never could quite understand the maniacs approach. All she did was idly adjust her purple gloves with a sigh as she continued. “Not that you should be so concerned with my affairs... Didn’t anyone ever teach you to mind your own business..?”

So it’s like - I dunno - one pm or something. But I have to get up sometime - right? RIGHT?!. 

The trailer’s dark and there ‘s this thin band of pale light cutting across the empty room. It’s coming from the fridge.

I must a’ left the door open again.

 Anyway the light is pickin’ out all kinds of crap on the floor. Crumpled PBR cans, Greasy pizza boxes - dominoes... I think - and uh... crumpled pants, and shit... is that my HK MP5?! Fuck - I need to take better care of that thing. But seriously... I gotta get up - if only to flick a few fat bluebottles into Rosie’s web. She’s getting on in years and needs a little help.

I could hear the gyros working deep inside my super structure - just a faint whirring noise as I rose to a sitting position to stand... weaving slightly. After a moment, I took a step. 

THUD.

Well - shit! Whatta ya want from me?? I’m heavy as fuck - and my steps aren’t light - fuck you - I’m no little tippy - toe sissy pants! I take another ponderous step, THUD - and I’m at the fridge. I close the door and move to the sink and lean over it - trying real hard not to puke... looking into the black abyss of the garbage disposal. 

Whooo.... The garbage disposal... that’s fuckin’ deep. How much garbage has that little disposal... uh... disposed of? Is it big enough and deep enough to swallow all my garbage? I don’t think so. I’ve got a shitload of fucking garbage racing around in my head. Way more than this can handle.

I can see on the counter that there are still a few beers left - I crack one open and the sound of the top poppin’ is kind of like music.

Yeah... that’s what I’m talkin’ about...

I slam that down and grab another.

Hair of the dog...

After 5 more - I’m feeling a little more like myself. So nice to think that it takes pounding a six pack to get close to feeling normal... Guess that goes with the territory of being a hired fucking killer for Unca Sam.

Which reminds me...

I close my eyes and access the messages that were pourin’ in from the previous night. The messages I was ignoring when I was getting loaded with sweet, delicious booze.

Okay... so there’s the car insurance thing.... delete.

Oooh - I may already be a winner!. - delete.

Then there was one from Langley. Just an adderess - and a name. That’s all I needed and all I ever get. I don’t ask questions - I just go and do what needs to be done. 

Oh - and in case you’re wondering - what needs to be done, is to kill. Kill with extreme predjudice.

I grab my jacket and sling my MP5 and head out the door. I see my little budy suckin’ the juices outta one of the flies I dropped in her web...

To say Bryan’s question irritated her would be putting it lightly, but of course Nina didn’t let it get to her too badly - even despite the name mistake that was like a slap to her face. He wasn’t the first who couldn’t understand her actions, and she had no doubts about the fact that he likely wouldn’t be the last either. All Nina did was cross her arms with a sigh, giving him one of her usual cold looks. “I believe in repaying certain debts... and as hard as it is to believe, Jin thinks far more about others in the grand scheme of things than himself.”  

Purposefully dodging addressing the ‘what is the deal’ part of Bryan’s question. That was a personal situation she wouldn’t just tell anyone about. However, with a slight almost cocky smirk on her face, she did add- “Besides, I wouldn’t consider co-running a practical world controlling conglomerate ‘subverting myself’...Would you?” 

St. Louis Missouri... Not exactly number one on my list of must-see destinations. Muggy... crime rate’s through the roof... cool arch though. 

But yet - here I was, and not by choice. I needed to make contact with one of our informants from the mid-west who had gone to ground. And for whatever reason, he decided to do it here. It had been several weeks since we got a report and the situation was now a serious concern for my employers. 

Naturally, there was next to no intel other than our boy’s name, Chester “Chet” Bostik. Oh, and we knew he was prone to going off the rails on serious drinking binges.

At least he has some redeeming qualities...

For all we knew, anything was possible. Could have been intercepted by the competition, shot in a back alley and dumped in the river over a bullshit card game gone bad, or maybe he just stumbled into the street drunk outta his mind and got run over by a city bus.

Oh Chet... you dumb bastard... where oh where can you be?

I was three days in  and staying at a funky little dive called the Northwestern Inn.

Not exactly as stylish as your typical Motel 6, but it was the last place we’d received transmission from Chet, before his tracking chip went dead... or his liver exploded... or whatever.

I absently flicked a little mint off of my pillow and watched it smack the far wall then plunk into the garbage can below. 

Two points... well... that went well.

I reached over and pulled an old blue grey sweatshirt on over my head as a soft, little "ding” sounded somewhere between my ears. 

Shit - that’ll be Bob calling.

I really didn’t have the time or patience for his condescending tone, or the witty back and forth bullshit he likes to get into. I closed my eyes briefly and slapped on my shoulder holster while I answered.

“Bob - lissen’ to me. I’ll call you when there’s news. Okay?? I’ve got nothin’ concrete yet... it’s only day three - this shit takes time.”

There was a long silence. Enough for me to finish pulling my jeans down over my faded brown work boots before he answered. He sounded a little agitated.

“Get it straight Fury. You listen to me. If you don’t have anything solid, then a status report will have to do. But I need you to give me something... anything to take to the brass upstairs.”

I threw on a battered black leather jacket - mostly to conceal the Beretta M9 I had just slung under my arm - and stomped out the door and across the uneven parking lot. It was practically empty, only a few cars left. Most customers here only paid by the hour... the Northwestern didn’t exactly attract the cream of society. I saw the hotel manager standing in  the doorway under the stained, red awning. I shot her a quick wink and waved.

“Hey Anu!”

She beamed at me with a huge, gleaming smile, and waved back vigorously.

“Mr. Furious! You have a glorious day! You find fancy mint I leave for you on pillow??”

I gave her a thumbs up and a friendly nod - as I kept walking towards the street.

Yep - I’m gettin’ all the perks... well I did pay for three months - in advance - hell, I’m probably the best goddamn customer she’s ever had. I earned that mint.

I was just starting to play back my conversation with Anu from when I had checked in. I jumped to the part where she was telling me how she had been working hard to change the reputation of the Northwestern - make it nicer - when the nasal, authoritative voice of Major Robert Burns burst into my brain again.

“BRYAN! Did you fall asleep on me?! I’m already late for my meeting and I need something to take upst-”

“Yeah - Bob... I heard you the first time. Look - just tell ‘em I got a red-hot lead and should have everything wrapped up here real soon.”

“How soon??”

“Um... super soon.”

“HOW soon!?”

“Shit Bob - a couple weeks... tops. How’s that? Oh, and since I now have this real tight deadline - thank you very much - I gotta get back to work.”

“Yeah - but exactly how red hot is that lea-”

I abruptly disconnected the call as I came out onto the street. The road was in really shitty condition. Full of potholes - trash all over the place. It was called Natural Bridge Avenue, an interesting name for a street with no discernible natural bridge. It was a drab day, overcast... sullen. I immediately felt better - then I realized...

I’m hungry...

I walked northwest... looking for a “natural bridge” I knew I would never see and wondering how the hell I was going to make good on my new deadline when I got distracted. What hit me first was the smell.

Chicken? Waffles?? Ohmygod...

I looked up and saw the red and white sign looming over a humble looking little diner. It read only: “Goody Goody.” 

It was a beat up old, neon relic from the 40′s... even before my time. 

I immediately swung open the door and went inside. It was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch so the place was pretty much empty. Just a fat, super friendly looking black dude behind the counter wearing a paper hat with “Goody Goody” written on it in black type. He immediately greeted me with a huge smile and a rhyme...

“You look like a chicken and waffle man - lemme get busy with my fryin’ pan!”

How the fuck did he know I wanted - ah, maybe everyone comes here for that.

There was a waitress there too - she was young probably not much older than nineteen. Friendly, but looked real tired. 

Must be close to the end of her shift.

I grabbed a table in the corner window where I’d have a good view of the street and pulled the plastic menu from the little metal stand and rubbed the grease off of it with my sleeve. The waitress shuffled up to me and raised her eyebrows. I looked up, smiled and tried to appear friendly.

“Guess what I’m havin’.”

So you want part’s one, two and three? You wanna see those first? Smart thinking kid. Well then, you gotta go: 

here for part I

here for part II

here for part III

Or maybe you DON’T want to read the first chapters? You just want to swing right into the middle of the jungle? Fine with me, Tarzan.

-------------------------------

I was gone - Bryan Fury didn’t exist.

Nothing clicking no sparks. The ONLY thing keepin’ me connected to this shitty-ass world was the data stream from my cybernetic suite, informing me on my recovery status. So far the news had been pretty bad. I’d lost several liters of blood. There was kidney damage.... punctured lung... lacerated liver...

Shit! Not my LIVER - I need that fucker.

My brain had even been put into an artificially induced coma while the nano bots in my blood stream scurried around to the hotspots trying to rebuild all the destruction.

Seriously - is there ANY good news here?? Whoa, wait - did I just... think that?! I did! Hey - look at me - I’m thinkin’ again! I... I’m back... But then - why don’t I see anyth - 

The next sensation was...

Is that - booze? Yeah - an’ it smells like... vodka. But I can’t uh... see.

I didn’t know if my eyes were open or closed - if I was sitting or standing or lying down or what. It was a weird and pretty fucked up feeling. I started to panic a little and had to get a grip.

Keep it together BF... You can smell the vodka, right? Right?? Okay, then just focus on the booze... you’re good at that.

I put all my attention into the sense of smell. I tried to identify everything about it.

It’s cheap shit... plastic bottle. Reminds me of my college days... what was that shit we used to drink? Oh - yeah! I know what that is - it’s...

“....FF-ffffucking Popov VODKA!”

The thoughts exploded out of my lungs as words, and I HEARD them! Then out of the darkness, came another voice. It was a woman and she sounded almost as excited as I was.

“Mr E! Mr E!! He’s alive! He just spoke! He spoke!”

Like a high-tech chain reaction, my systems had been coming back on line. First my thoughts as the coma was reversed, then the sense of smell - then hearing and now... I could see wireframe images taking shape all around me. 

The room was being mapped with a bright green grid...

Low ceiling, pipes and shit - narrow stairs - some look broken... I’m lying on the floor, in a... a basement?

The wireframe was snapped to and mapped the person next to me who was shouting to “Dr. E.” 

That’s the chick who’s been shouting - She’s looking at the stairs... Are we in the basement of the book store? There’s a bottle next to her - that explains the booze smell - and bandages and other medical shit. She’s trying to help!

“Dr E! He’s awake! Awake!! Please hurry! Dr. E!” 

I could hear her voice was quickly slipping from excitement to fear. I turned in her direction and tried to smile. It didn’t have quite the effect i was hoping for.

“DOCTOR EBENEEZER! WHERE ARE YOU?! HELP! OH GOD, HE’S GETTING UP I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO...DO?!!!”

She tripped, fell back on her butt and I saw her featureless, texture-less wire frame form slide at warp speed backwards across the floor until she hit a shelf against the far wall. Some shit fell off and bounced on the ground around her.

Also - she was right! I was I was sitting up - fuckin’ nanobots RULE! 

But I needed to calm my mysterious benefactor down. I knew I must look pretty goddamn scary and the kid was starting to completely lose her shit.

“Omygodomygodomygodomygod - please don’t hurt me!”

I concentrated for a few seconds and then - the details popped in - I had color... texture...I could SEE - but now I needed to fucking speak. I could see my caretaker scramblin’ sideways along the wall like a startled fiddler crab knockin’ books and stools and junk all over the place until she slammed to an abrupt halt in the far corner of the room.

“H-Hhey - kid - shuddup, relax and lissen to me for a second...”

When I spoke it sort of had a mixed affect. At least her shouting stopped, which was a nice change, but she was frozen still as a statue sitting rigid against the damp clay tile of the old basement wall, staring at me with huge frightened eyes. I noticed the color immediately - hazel. 

The kid was pretty too. Dark brown hair, with faint freckles across the nose. She had those little adorable dimples you get from smiling a lot. She was wearing old, ripped jeans with cute little glam patches and glittery bull-shit on ‘em. and a baggy white sweatshirt that had three blue apples arranged in a triangle on the front. Yeah - that’s right - in just a fraction of a second, I could see all that. I could tell that this was a nice, goodhearted kid. It made me consider how this all must look to her...

You were probably helping out the weird old guy at the bookstore on weekends for beer money and now you’re face to face with a zombie, cyborg assassin, freak-show who has been shot a billion and six times and is now somehow sitting up and staring right at you.

My normal M.O. is to be the monster truck that drives mindless terror deep into the heart of my targets, just before I literally beat their brains out. 

I’m SUPER good at that. 

What I’m NOT super good at, is getting people to feel relaxed and comfortable around me. I’m not exactly and affable guy. I don’t know all the right shit to say in every situation - so I just went with the stupid ol’ truth.

“Kid - I know you were trying to help me. So cool your shit - you’re going to be okay.”

She continued to stare at me with those big, frightened hazel eyes. Shaking a little bit, and staying real silent. I kept trying to reach her.

“Look - I get it... this is an unusual situation. You’re scared. So... I’ll say it again nice and slow...so it sinks in. You... are... going... to... be... okay. And that’s a really big deal coming from me, because - I pretty much never say that. Now what’s your fu- ah what’s your name?”

She seemed to relax and her breathing got a little deeper and less rapid. Then she spoke - in a pretty goddamn steady voice too.

( Replying to @bryanhasanswers )

There were a few benefits to a dietary lifestyle like mine.

One was the obvious benefit of sustainance being plentiful and easy to obtain (humans don’t put up much of a fight).

The second would be the feeling of “cleaning up”, so to speak. There were truly monstrous people in this world. What better way to send a message than to show them that one day their sins will literally eat them alive.

The third benefit was simple. Cooking was a pain in the ass and I didn’t feel like doing it.

The silence was dead as I stood atop the mahogany conference table staring down at my own handywork. Most of them had managed to use the last few breaths they had to crawl under the table in an (admittedly HILARIOUS) attempt to escape... I had to admit, the look of horror on Isegawa’s pretty little mug was extra satisfying.

“Maybe you’ll think twice before ya mess with anyone else’s face. Bitch.”

With a heavy sigh I hopped off the table and made my way to the quarantined area where the test subjects were housed, preparing myself for the slew of flashbacks as I unlocked the door using the key card I’d swiped off one of the dead security grunts... inside was another hallway lined with numbered doors. I sniffed the air...

I could only catch the scent of three living bodies inside.... and it was going to be a delicate process getting them out of there. It took over an hour to locate each room containing the experiments... and god even knows how long to get each calmed down enough to trust me and allow me to lead them outside to where my associates were waiting with an armored vehicle (which we had previously procured raiding another facility). Inez, my right-hand and fellow escaped experiment stepped forward, attempting to hand me the keys.

“I need you to take them to the safe house, Inez.” I pushed the key back into her hand. “I have a couple more things to take care of here... If I’m not back by morning then go ahead and start heading to our next destination. I won’t be far behind.” Inez nodded gesturing for our three rescues to follow her into the vehicle... there were two boys and a girl, all about the same age as me when I went through that hell on earth. I hoped to god those kids could finally get some sleep tonight...

I watched them all climb into the vehicle, Inez nodding to me once more before starting the engine and taking off over the horizon. Well... at least that part was taken care of. Our mission was a surprising success, but this was easy mode. This facility had no more than 12 staffed and only three human experiments... that was nothing compared to the places that housed the REAL horrors. Those buildings were like death trap dungeons that were just teeming with specially trained soldiers who were armed to the teeth.

My associates and I were no match for that kind of power... but I knew someone who was, which was why I was now walking towards the heavily wooded area nearby. With any luck the person I had in mind would be showing up to our little party any moment now.

I flicked a chunk of viscera off my shoulder (not sure why I did that as I was more or less covered head to toe in the blood and entrails of a dozen different people.) Leaves and branches cracked beneath my boots as I shuffled my way deeper into the woods, the scent of the facility I’d just laid waste to finally far away enough that I felt I could rest, and the fallen tree I’d just happened upon seemed as good a place as any.