[The Mysterons...sworn enemies of Earth, possessing the ability

to recreate an exact likeness of an object or person--but first,

they must destroy. Leading the fight, one man whom Fate has made

indestructible. His name: Captain Scarlet....]

Whose Heart Is Blackest

A CAPTAIN SCARLET AND THE MYSTERONS Short Story

By Kimberly Murphy And Richard A. Spake

The silver and blue Spectrum Passenger Jet soared high above the European continent on its way back to Cloudbase. At its controls was Captain Blue, Spectrum's finest pilot and a former member of the World Aeronautic Society. Blue was a handsome man, a blond Bostonian in his early thirties, with classic Scandinavian features and eyes the same rich robin's-egg blue color as his uniform. But those eyes looked tired as he guided the plane toward its destination, Spectrum's secret headquarters, 40,000 feet above the Earth's surface.

Blue and his fellow officers, Captain Magenta and Captain Scarlet, were returning from a steelworks in Leningrad that had been targeted by the Mysterons because an experimental metal being forged there would be used in the next Martian mission. The Mysterons had taken over a crane operator and attempted to destroy the whole works, only to be thwarted by quick thinking on the part of the three Spectrum officers and extraordinary heroics by Captain Scarlet--heroics which cost the brave young British agent his life.

But with Captain Scarlet, things were never quite what they seemed...not even death.

Spectrum had been at war with the Mysterons for over a year now, having first incurred the wrath of the race of energy beings on Mars during a routine expedition. The Mysterons had tried to take a closer look at the human exploration team, led by Spectrum agent Captain Black, but Black misinterpreted the aiming of their surveillance cameras as the aiming and arming of a weapon. Black ordered his men to open fire--and the complex they had discovered was destroyed. But the Mysterons immediately recreated their destroyed city by simply shining an eerie green beam over it...then vowed revenge for this wanton act of aggression. Vowing to destroy all life on Earth, the Mysterons claimed as their first victim Captain Black himself, who was turned from loyal Spectrum officer to the embodiment of Mysteron terrorism. Black was the only one of his team to return to Earth--but he vanished before Spectrum could debrief him. From that moment on, the Mysterons had begun their war of attrition with the Earth, systematically killing key individuals and destroying key objects, then using their power of retrometabolism to recreate them as exact copies to do their dark bidding. Spectrum had lost some battles in this war, but won many more, thanks to the bravery and resourcefulness of the men and women that made up its core...and the special abilities of one particular individual.

Captain Scarlet was Spectrum's secret weapon, its trump card in the high-stakes war with the Mysterons. A year ago, Scarlet had been like any other Spectrum agent--brave, loyal, dedicated, and very mortal. Then came the attack by the Mysterons that forever changed his life...a car crash that claimed the lives of two Spectrum captains, partners Scarlet and Brown. The Mysterons cloned the pair and turned them into killing machines--Brown became a walking time bomb, while Scarlet became an ice-cold assassin. But the Mysterons' plans went awry when Brown exploded too soon to carry out their threat against the World President, and a clever Spectrum net trapped Scarlet atop the London Car-Vu observation deck, where Blue shot him and caused him to fall 800 feet to certain death.

That's when Spectrum discovered what retrometabolism REALLY did.

The Scarlet clone not only survived the fall, he healed completely, without even a scar, and recovered his memory of his former self--and lost all memory of the Mysteron influence. After extensive testing and observation, Spectrum Medical Officer Dr. Fawn determined that the man who had fallen 800 feet to certain death and lived to tell the tale could truly be called the REAL Captain Scarlet...and was now virtually indestructible.

But the caveat "virtually" always bothered Captain Blue, which was why Captain Magenta was in the back of the plane now with their fallen comrade. He'd seen Scarlet through this ordeal numerous times...shot, crushed, drowned, almost any way of death someone could imagine, and the man had always come through unscathed. But Blue knew his best friend wasn't invincible. Scarlet, like all Mysteronized humans, had a vulnerability to high voltage electricity, which disrupted the bioelectrical retrometabolism reaction. And almost everyone in Spectrum had seen or heard of at least one Mysteron's death in a violent explosion or similar destructive force where the body was completely destroyed...with no recovery. Scarlet could survive almost anything...but it was that word "almost" that kept him and everyone around him cognizant of the very real possibility of taking one too many chances one day.

The door of the cockpit opened, and Blue turned his head to look.

Captain Magenta walked in and took a seat in the co-pilot's chair. "Still out of it," the dark-haired Irish-American reported.

Blue glanced at his watch. "STILL?" he repeated. "It's been almost two hours."

"Maybe this is it?" Magenta asked, his voice uncertain.

"I doubt it." Blue snapped on the plane's intercom. "Come on, Paul," he said, "snap out of it. Remember, I owe you a steak dinner from that last chess game."

Magenta looked at him oddly. "Think he can hear you?"

"Who knows? Makes ME feel better, though."

"Cloudbase to Captain Blue," a lilting Caribbean-accented man's voice called through the SPJ's radio system as Blue's RadioCap microphone dropped down to "TALK" position.

"Captain Blue here--go ahead, Lieutenant Green," Blue replied.

"What is your ETA?"

"Approximately ten minutes. We've had some headwind."

"Understood. What's the latest on Captain Scarlet's condition?"

"Still pulseless--and has been for the last two hours."

"We'll apprise Dr. Fawn. Notify us if there's any change."

"S.I.G. Blue out."

Magenta looked back toward the passenger cabin. "Sure there's not something seriously wrong with him?" he asked.

"He's been out longer than this before," Blue reminded him. "But I didn't think his injuries looked that bad at first. He must have broken his neck in that fall."

"Well, he certainly saved OUR necks. That Mysteronized steel worker was ready to make US a permanent part of the works. If he hadn't climbed into that crane..."

"I know. Sometimes, what he'll do to stop a Mysteron amazes me."

"You? I'd have thought you'd be used to this by now."

Blue shook his head. "I'll NEVER get used to it."

"Good. Then I don't feel so bad."

Blue sighed. He'd been in this position before. He and Scarlet were regular partners--they went on most missions together- -so it was less frequently that other Cloudbase personnel had to go through one of Scarlet's extended recoveries. Magenta and Scarlet had been on missions together before, but unless Blue missed his guess..."First `death watch'?"

Magenta shuddered at Blue's use of the term. "I never realized...Blue, the man is DEAD. I mean, REALLY dead. No pulse. No life. Nothing. I'd always pictured it as a coma of some sort..." He looked visibly shaken.

"I know," Blue sympathized. "He's my best friend...it's tough to see him this way."

"How do you stand it? You see this more than the rest of us ...how do you handle it?"

Blue forced himself to look straight ahead. "I say a lot of prayers until he wakes up."

For a moment, both men sat in silence.

"I'll go check on him," Magenta finally offered.

"Good idea."

Magenta left.

Over the horizon, the sleek form of the flying nuclear-powered aircraft carrier Cloudbase appeared. A white streak suddenly shot off its deck and swooped through the air toward him.

Blue blinked his landing lights at the jet. Hello, Karen, he thought to himself as the Angel jet carrying his beloved Symphony Angel, one of Cloudbase's five female interceptor pilots, began its alert patrol. Sorry I missed you.

Angel One did a barrel roll as it passed by, then headed off on its usual flight pattern.

Magenta came back into the cockpit. "Was that Symphony?" he asked.

"Yeah," Blue replied, getting his happiness under control. "Always showing off. Any change?"

"Yeah. He's alive. He stirred a little, then got quiet again. But he's got pulse and respiration."

Blue breathed a sigh of relief and cast his gaze heavenward for a moment. "Perfect timing," he observed. He flipped down the microphone on his RadioCap. "Blue to Cloudbase--Captain Scarlet has just regained vital sign activity. Request landing clearance."

"Spectrum Is Green," the Lieutenant replied. "Dr. Fawn will meet you in the hangar. Welcome back."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Blue out."

Admiral Gunther Ruprecht, a proud German officer in the proud tradition of the German military and European Commander of the World Navy, walked out of the command center at the World Navy base at Manchester, England, and headed for his limousine. Returning the salute of the Ensign who had escorted him, he climbed into the back seat of his limousine and let the Ensign close the door. "Winchester Air Base," he barked to his driver. "Mach schnell."

The limousine shot away from the curb and practically flew down the base road to the main highway.

Ruprecht clung to the armrest. "Lunatic!" he shouted. "What are you trying to do?"

"You said `mach schnell'," the deep German-accented voice of the driver responded.

Ruprecht stiffened. "You're not Kaufmann."

"Very good, Admiral. Care to venture another guess?"

"Who ARE you?"

"Come now, Admiral. You wanted to see me and you don't know who I am?"

For the first time, Ruprecht looked at the dark-haired, dark- eyed man's reflection in the rear-view mirror. "Blackheart?" he asked incredulously.

"Major Rainier Blackheart, to be precise."

Ruprecht looked around uncertainly. "Where is my driver?"

"Sleeping peacefully in the trunk. By the time we get to Winchester, he should be fine. And I promise to return the uniform. Now, Admiral, stop stalling. It is a long drive to Winchester, and I can make it as comfortable as the situation warrants."

Ruprecht took a deep breath. I had heard you were a lunatic, Blackheart, he thought. Now I believe it. "The World President is holding a reception at the Officers' Club at Winchester Air Base tonight."

"Social events bore me."

"I do not care about your disdain for social amenities. The event is to formalize the new working arrangement between Spectrum and the European Commands of the World Military. It is too good an opportunity for unsavory elements to pass up."

"So you want a babysitter."

"I want the best strongarm in the world...and the most discreet."

"It will cost you."

"You will find the appropriate funds in your account later today."

"Untraceable, of course."

"Of course."

"One question. Is Spectrum in charge of security?"

"I do not know. I would presume so."

"You would presume. In my business, you never `presume' anything. Your lack of knowledge has just made my job more difficult. And it will cost you. Ten percent more, to be exact."

"Outrageous!"

"Perhaps you would care to remember who was driving."

With that, the limousine swerved hard.

Ruprecht clung to the armrest, then looked back at the madman behind the wheel. "All right. A ten-percent fee will be added."

"Good." The chaotic driving eased back to almost a normal ride. "I am certain you understand my concern. It is obvious you trust Spectrum even less than I do."

"What makes you say that?"

"Why else would you hire me?"

Ruprecht hated insolent hired help...especially when they were right. "I trust, then, that we have a deal?"

"So it would seem. What time is the reception?"

"Seven p.m."

"I will be there. Now, relax, Admiral, and enjoy the ride." He raised the tinted glass privacy barrier.

Admiral Ruprecht warily leaned back in his seat.

As he did, smoke began emerging from the ashtray.

Before he knew it, his eyelids were getting very heavy.

"Admiral Ruprecht?"

Ruprecht opened his eyes slowly and looked around.

The limousine was parked by the side of the road near a sign that read "Winchester 10 mi". World Navy Lieutenant Kaufmann was leaning over the seat into the passenger compartment, looking very concerned. "Are you all right, sir?" Kaufmann continued.

Ruprecht sat up slowly. "Fine," he said, still looking around.

"I looked for the man who abducted us, sir, but he's gone. Shall I notify Naval Security?"

"No!"

Kaufmann looked startled.

"Lieutenant," Ruprecht continued, a little calmer, "NOTHING happened. It was an old friend playing a rather sick joke. Nothing to worry about. Now, turn around and drive on as if nothing unusual happened...because nothing did."

Kaufmann looked suspicious for a moment, but realized that a lieutenant did not question an admiral. "Yes, sir," he said, starting the engine.

An hour and a half after his return to Cloudbase, Captain Blue finished his report to Colonel White on the Mysteron incident in Leningrad, picked up a fresh uniform out of Captain Scarlet's quarters for his fallen friend, then headed for Sickbay to check on his progress.

He found Scarlet, dressed in a hospital gown because his uniform had been badly damaged in the incident, awake and lying on the special recovery bed Fawn had designed for him--a table pre-wired with monitoring instruments and imaging scanners, necessary because x-rays could not penetrate Mysteronized tissue--looking much better than when he had left him. Standing next to the table was Cloudbase's chief medical officer Dr. Fawn, checking the readings on the monitors and frowning slightly.

"How's the patient?" Blue asked, setting the uniform down on an adjacent bed.

"Ask him," Fawn replied, sounding exasperated.

Blue came over to the table and looked down at his friend. "Well?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Scarlet stated.

"No, he's not," Fawn countered.

"Aha," Blue noted, somewhat amused. He knew how much Scarlet hated the entire medical ordeal he had to go through after every mission that resulted in serious injury. "We have a doctor/patient conflict."

"No, we don't," the Australian doctor said. "We have a stubborn patient who doesn't know when to slow down."

"Doctor, I know my own body," Scarlet protested.

"And it should be telling you what my instruments are telling me--you're not through healing yet. There's still a considerable amount of unresolved trauma. Your vitals are irregular and there's still some evidence of toxic elements in your bloodstream that haven't been neutralized yet. What the Devil happened to you?"

"Well," Scarlet said, "I remember fighting with the Mysteron agent in the cab of the crane as it hovered over the vat of by-products. He knocked me out of the cab...I caught the edge of the crane and grabbed his leg, then pulled him out with me...he fell into the vat...I jumped for the crane's line to swing away...and

that's the last thing I remember clearly."

"You got splashed as he fell into the vat," Blue explained. "It made you lose your grip on the line. You just barely missed falling into the vat yourself--you hit your head and fell outside the vat, and I think you broke your neck when you hit the ground. You were dead by the time we got to you."

Fawn frowned. "WONDERFUL. Scarlet, there are times I wonder if you've hit you head once too often and gone completely mad."

"We all have our jobs to do, Doctor," Scarlet reminded him. "Mine is to stop the Mysterons at all costs."

"And mine is to make sure you don't pay the ULTIMATE cost," Fawn countered. "I don't know what I could do for you if your retrometabolism ever failed to respond. There's so much about the process we don't understand."

"Then I'll have to keep coming back, won't I? Now, Doctor, about my release..."

"Absolutely NOT. If I can't do anything else for you, I can at least make certain you don't hinder your OWN recovery. You're staying here until these readings are closer to normal."

Scarlet frowned. Fawn, like him, was a Captain, but though they were technically equal in rank, Fawn was in complete command of the Sickbay. Even Colonel White had to obey his directives when he was a patient. Scarlet looked up at his doctor. "I do believe you're enjoying this."

"No, I'm merely trying to get you to behave like my other patients. Now, relax and let yourself HEAL."

Blue chuckled. "Bet he doesn't say THAT to his other patients," he said to Scarlet.

Fawn pricked Scarlet's finger for a blood sample, then pressed a gauze pad against the minor wound. "You've never heard of holistic medicine?" he said with a slight smile as he slipped the

mini-tube into the auto-analyzer.

Scarlet held the gauze pad in place for a moment, seemed to count to five in his head, then removed the pad.

The wound was completely healed. Not even a red spot remained to indicate where the needle had pierced his skin.

Blue shook his head. Scarlet's powers of recovery never ceased to amaze him. "I believe Christ once quoted the proverb, `Physician, heal thyself'," he remarked.

"I doubt He was referring to retrometabolism," Scarlet replied.

Fawn took the gauze pad and tossed it into the medical waste disposal container. "Enough parlor tricks," he deadpanned.

All three shared a brief laugh until an ominous voice sounded over the loudspeakers:

"This is the voice of the Mysterons..."

"Good Lord!" Fawn swore. "At least give us a moment to catch our breath!"

"...we know that you can hear us, Earthmen. Spectrum will find out whose heart is blackest when we resolve unfinished business. We will be avenged!"

The speakers went silent.

"Don't say it...," Fawn whispered.

"Attention, all Spectrum personnel," Lieutenant Green's voice announced over the intercom. "Cloudbase is now on Yellow Alert. Captains Blue, Ochre, and Scarlet, report to the Control Room immediately."

Scarlet began removing the electrodes that tied him to the table's instruments. "Duty calls," he noted.

Fawn immediately put a hand on Scarlet's chest to keep him from sitting up. "I'm NOT releasing you," he reiterated. "You are NOT ready to return to duty."

Scarlet removed the hand from his chest and sat up. "Doctor, we BOTH know that in an hour, this argument will be a moot point."

Fawn frowned. Scarlet was right, of course. But it went against everything he had sworn as a doctor to do for his patients. "If anything happens to you in that hour, it could seriously hinder your recovery," Fawn reminded him.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Blue promised.

Fawn raised an eyebrow. "Now THERE'S an idea." He walked over to his computer, typed a couple of quick commands, then waited for the printout. He made a quick note on the page, then handed it to Blue. "Sign here." He indicated a spot in the middle of the page.

"What is this?" Blue asked.

"Scarlet's release...into YOUR care."

"WHAT?"

"For the next hour, you're responsible for him. Keep him out of trouble until the healing process finishes."

Blue looked at Scarlet, then at Fawn. "You've GOT to be joking."

"It's the only way I'll authorize his release. Take it or leave it."

"Control to Sickbay," Green's voice called over Fawn's intercom.

Fawn tapped the intercom button on the wall. "Fawn here—go ahead, Leftenant."

"What is the status of Captain Scarlet?"

Scarlet cast Blue a questioning look.

Blue took Fawn's pen and signed the form.

Fawn added his signature and handed the release to Scarlet. "He's just been released," he said into the intercom. "Tell Colonel White that Captains Scarlet and Blue will be up momentarily. Sickbay out." He turned to Scarlet. "You're free to go, Captain. Just remember to obey your caretaker for the next hour."

"Thank you, Doctor," Scarlet replied.

Blue handed Scarlet his uniform. "I'm supposed to watch over YOU?" he complained. "I'd almost rather chase Mysterons."

Scarlet began dressing. "Oh, I don't know. You can't buy me a steak tonight if you're chasing Mysterons."

Blue looked askance at Scarlet. "How did you know I said that?"

"What do you mean? You owe me dinner because I beat you two straight yesterday. When did you say anything about it?"

"While you were out of it on the plane."

"Oh, come now, Adam. You don't think I can HEAR you when I'm

in that state, do you?"

There was just enough of a twinkle in Scarlet's eyes to make Blue ask himself the same question. "Get dressed," he said to change the subject. "The colonel awaits."

Moments later, Scarlet and Blue, joined by Captain Ochre, were standing in the Cloudbase Control Room before Colonel White's circular desk. "Captains Scarlet, Blue, and Ochre reporting for duty, sir," the Brit announced for the trio.

"At ease, gentlemen," White depressed three buttons on his console to raise three stools from the floor.

Scarlet, Blue, and Ochre sat and doffed their RadioCaps.

"You're looking peaked, Captain Scarlet," White noted. "Is something wrong?"

"It was a difficult recovery, sir," Scarlet said.

"Looks like it," Ochre cracked. "You still look about half-dead."

White cast Ochre a stern look, then returned his attention to Scarlet. "Were you FINISHED recuperating?"

"I was released for duty," Scarlet stated.

Blue said nothing. He hoped that the early part of their assignment would involve sedate research work on Cloudbase. He knew HE was exhausted; one look at Scarlet told him that Fawn's concerns about releasing him too soon may have been valid. Scarlet was pale, and there was a tiredness in his eyes and on his face that Blue hadn't seen in a very long time.

White also realized that something wasn't quite right with Scarlet. "We all do what we must in this fight," the Colonel finally said. "You've heard the latest Mysteron threat. Reactions?"

"It's hard to say, sir," Ochre answered. "There are so many things they could mean."

"The part about `whose heart is blackest' could be referring to Captain Black," Scarlet noted. "And `unfinished business' almost certainly refers to an attack that Spectrum thwarted. But beyond that, it's difficult to know what they intend."

"It's doubtful they mean the steelworks," Blue pointed out. "The Mysterons almost never hit the same target twice in a row."

"True, but a perfect opportunity to complete `unfinished business' is tonight," White reminded them. "The reception at Winchester Air Base to formalize the European portion of the new joint defense initiative is this evening at seven p.m. And the Mysterons' efforts to sabotage negotiations on that working arrangement failed, as you are most certainly aware."

"What is our assignment, sir?" Blue asked.

"Your assignment, gentlemen, is to shadow the three commanders whose safety you were responsible for during the first stages of our negotiations. Admiral Ruprecht arrived at Winchester this afternoon. Space General Rostokovich is expected to arrive within the hour. And of course General Metcalfe is the commander of Winchester Air Base. You will be a discreet additional presence at the reception, a supplement to our ground forces who will be providing security along with a joint military force."

Ochre rolled his eyes. He knew what "discreet presence" meant at a formal reception, but he hoped he was wrong..."Does this mean we have to wear dress uniforms, sir?"

"Absolutely. You must fit in with the dignitaries who will be present. The World President and some of the ministers of the World Congress will be there, in addition to the military dignitaries."

Ochre sighed. "I HATE dragging out that monkey suit," he complained.

"Can you even FIND yours amidst all those model airplanes in your quarters?" Blue said with a smile to Ochre, whose hobby of model airplane building often drove the other officers to distraction, especially when he did it in common areas like the Officers' Lounge.

"I think so," Ochre returned. "The problem is when Scarlet puts on all his medals, he's going to make Cloudbase list as he walks the hallways."

Scarlet resisted the temptation for a sharp retort. Ochre was always making wisecracks about the number of medals and citations Scarlet had received throughout his military and Spectrum careers. "I am hopeful the Colonel will authorize ribbons only for the reception," he remarked instead.

"With the exception of the Spectrum Cross, I will do just that," White stated. "We will reconvene at the hangar at promptly 1755 hours to leave for Winchester Air Base. That is all, gentlemen. Dismissed."

The three captains stood, came to attention, then donned their caps and left the room.

Outside the Control Room door, Scarlet and Blue waved to the departing Captain Ochre, then looked at each other. "I owe you one, Adam," Scarlet remarked to Blue after Ochre had left. "Thank you for not saying anything to the Colonel about the circumstances of my release."

"Forget it," Blue replied. "As you told Fawn, in an hour any objections he has will be a moot point. But there IS something you can do for me."

"Name it."

"Spend the next hour in the Room of Sleep. You look TERRIBLE, Paul. It's the worst I've ever seen you look when you were still conscious. And you can't let your father see you like this."

Scarlet grimaced at the reminder that he had never told his parents--one of whom, WAAF European Commander General Charles Metcalfe, would be at the reception tonight--the truth about what had happened to him. He couldn't; not only was it a security risk--Scarlet's abilities were among the most classified secrets in Spectrum, accessible only by the World President outside Spectrum's closed ranks--there was no easy way to explain to his parents that their son was dead when his Mysteronized clone was standing before them. "You're right, of course. He'll ask too many questions. And we can't have that."

"So get some rest and let yourself finish healing. That way, he won't have anything to question."

Scarlet snapped his friend a quick salute. "S.I.G., Captain Blue."

Blue returned the salute and grinned wryly. "Get out of here, Captain Scarlet. And don't let me see you anywhere but in the Room of Sleep for the next hour."

Scarlet smiled warmly at his friend, then left for the Room of Sleep.

Getting to Winchester was the easy part.

Rainier Blackheart, after returning the World Navy uniform to Lieutenant Kaufmann and leaving Admiral Ruprecht and his driver by the roadside, had redressed in his normal clothes--a black German Army uniform and long black duster that helped conceal a couple of exotic weapons, including a well-used short sword--and hiked up the road to a nearby rest area.

Once there, Blackheart had used his set of universal passkeys to abscond with a black saloon car and simply disappeared into the highway traffic. He worried not about how to explain the missing car; his sponsors would simply transfer the necessary funds to replace the car into the owner's accounts once he sent them the license plate number.

There was very little Major Rainier Blackheart worried about. Being told you are dying at age 30 of advanced lymphatic cancer has a way of putting everything into perspective. Blackheart had refused treatment and kept his condition from his superiors, wanting instead to serve out his last days leading his military unit. That was when he was Captain Blackheart... six months ago.

Then came the most confusing incident of his life.

Blackheart and his men, training in the German mountains for their part in a World Army exercise, were devastated when a hand grenade was thrown into their weapons store in the early morning hours, causing a massive explosion. Those who weren't killed immediately were attacked by a walking corpse of a man, dressed all in black, who was firing a machine gun that never seemed to run out of bullets. Blackheart himself remembered being shot through the chest...

And then, about twelve hours disappeared from his memory.

When he came to, he was in a military hospital, a guard standing over him, military intelligence questioning him non-stop, asking who he was, what was the last thing he remembered, what in the world he thought he was doing at the exercise taking shots at the German Chancellor.

As near as Blackheart could piece together from stories he had later been told, apparently his men had gone mad at the exercise, shooting indiscriminately into the crowd of onlookers. According to reports, Blackheart himself had taken the Chancellor hostage until a quick-thinking security guard had called organized a resistance force from the confused army troops. His men had been destroyed. Blackheart himself had been shot, and he fell backward off the dais and grazed a portable generator, then rolled onto the ground.

But he had survived. Not only that, he had thrived.

Test after test revealed the same thing: No bullet wounds. No scars. No bullets inside the body. No trace of the cancer.

It was as if he had been completely reborn.

There had been an official investigation, of course. Spectrum had shown up to investigate the incident for Mysteron involvement. But they had been told that there was no Mysteron involvement, that the attack had come from a group of soldiers devoted to an insane officer who would be dealt with in the proper fashion.

It was a lie. A complete lie.

Blackheart was publicly drummed out of the German Army, declared a traitor, sentenced to death. Privately, however, things were quite different. Blackheart was promoted to Major and given free rein to do what he wished.

Of course, the brass didn't have much choice. Blackheart, always an unstable type, had gone off the deep end after the incident. He'd escaped from the military and found a group of wealthy financiers who were interested in his services but made certain he kept his distance from THEM as well. He was considered uncontrollable by his handlers, who spent much of their time trying to cover his trail. But he was THE best soldier of fortune in the world. And his legend spread among the military brass...a legend of an unstoppable man, immune to any sort of attack, loyal to anyone--for the right price.

And now, that price was being paid by Admiral Gunther Ruprecht.

Leaving his car by the roadside, Blackheart walked into the woods surrounding Winchester Air Base and took an assessment of the base's security.

A simple fence stood in his path. Blackheart removed a device from his hip pouch and held it near the fence.

The needle on the device's face sat perfectly still.