A Framing Story

a story set in the universe of Champions Online

The bar was old, dirty, and falling apart, its patrons much the same. The bartender glanced up from his newspaper as a customer came in, and his eyes widened. It was a mobster named Tony Spinelli, a big figure in the local rackets. What he was doing in a dive like this was anyone's guess. The bartender guessed he must be meeting someone, for some shady purpose.

Spinelli swaggered up to the bar and favored the bartender with a supercilious grin. "Whiskey, neat," he said. The bartender silently nodded, poured the drink, and pushed it over to him. This was not the sort of man you asked for payment. If he chose to pay you, he would. If he didn't, there wasn't much you could do about it.

Spinelli picked up the glass and bolted the drink down in one gulp. He gasped as the whiskey seared his throat, put the glass down on the bar, and pointed at it. "Again," he ordered, in a hoarse voice. The bartender obliged, refilling the glass, and Spinelli repeated the performance. Then the mobster looked around the bar, frowning. "Crap place," he commented.

The bartender nodded, not daring to contradict him. "Surprised to see someone like you in here, Mr. Spinelli."

"I bet," Spinelli replied, leaning back against the bar. "Catch the game last night?"

"Yeah. The Giants sucked, as usual."

Spinelli nodded. "That new quarterback might turn things around, though."

The bartender shrugged. "Maybe, but I wouldn't bet on it."

Spinelli pointed at the empty glass on the bar. "Another drink."

The bartender began to pour, but then stopped as something caught his eye. Spinelli's face had begun to sag, as if the left side were sliding off. The bartender slammed the base of the bottle down on the counter, making the mobster jump, and glared at him. "Morph!"

Morph grinned sheepishly, his face sagging even more. "Hey, look—" he began.

"How many times have I told you not to pull that shit in here?" the bartender stormed. "What would Tony Spinelli think if he found out you were impersonating him?"

Morph swallowed. "You won't tell him, will you?"

"That depends. Can you pay for those drinks?"

Morph whimpered, now looking like something Picasso might have painted. "No . . ."

The bartender lunged across the counter, seized Morph by his arms, and dragged him down to the end of the bar and across the floor to the front door. Yanking the door open, he heaved the phony mobster outside, where he landed on his back on the sidewalk. "I ever catch you in here again, I'll bash your brains in, understand?" He slammed the door shut.

As Morph lay there on the sidewalk, two men came up and stopped, standing over him. One was tall and dark, with a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache, his hair graying at the temples. The other was short and bald with pale blue eyes. Both wore overcoats. The short one shook his head. "You're a mess, Morph," he commented, in a high, flutey voice.

"Who are you?" Morph muttered, standing up and trying to put his face back together with his hands.

"You don't know me," the bald man said. "But I know you."

Morph gave a harsh laugh. "What are you, a supervillain groupie?"

The man smiled thinly. "If I were, I'd hardly be interested in a washed-up has-been like you, would I?"

"Then what do you want?" Morph asked angrily, his voice slurred and distorted, his face hanging like a melted rubber mask.

"I just want to talk to you," the man said. He gestured at a car parked nearby. "Shall we step into my office?"

Morph shook his head, his face rippling like water as it moved. "If this is about a job, I'm not interested. I did my time, and I'm not going back to jail, ever!"

The man reached into a pocket of his overcoat, took out a hundred dollar bill, and held it up. "Listen to my offer and this is yours, whether you agree to it or not."

Morph gazed at the bill, licking his dangling lips. "Whether I agree or not?"

The man nodded, smiling.

"All right," said Morph.

The three men went to the car, Morph and the bald man getting in the back while the other man got behind the wheel. "So, what's this offer you want me to listen to?" Morph asked.

The bald man grinned. "How would you like to become a United States senator?"

"Okay," said Supersonic Squirrel, "let's try it again."

Katrina Werner groaned and sat up on the mat where he had just thrown her. She was a slim, brown-skinned woman of twenty-one, with bright blue eyes and close-cut blonde hair that was so pale it was nearly white. She was presently wearing a karate gi. Her companion was a three-foot-tall humanoid gray squirrel, with a blunt buck-toothed muzzle, enormous black eyes, a big fluffy question mark of a tail, and fur-covered folds of skin stretching from his wrists to his ankles. He was presently wearing nothing but his fur. "Can't we take a break?" she pleaded.

The squirrel folded his arms across his chest, looking annoyed. "This was your idea, Kat. You said you were embarrassed at how easily that creep Soulfire managed to incapacitate you without your powers."

Katrina sighed. "While you managed to hold your own against my brother—a trained killer twice your size—without yours."

Supersonic nodded. "PRIMUS taught me unarmed combat, and I can teach you, but not if you're gonna ask for a break every time your butt hits the floor!"

Katrina got painfully to her feet and looked around the dojo. There were a dozen Mexican men, women, and children, also wearing gis, watching them and smiling. "¿Qué están mirando?" she demanded angrily.

"We are watching you get beaten by a squirrel, señora," said a little boy, grinning widely. Several of them laughed, and Katrina felt her face grow hot.

"That squirrel happens to be an agent of PRIMUS," said Katrina. "You know, the Paranormal Research and Investigation Mission of the United States?"

The boy gave an exaggerated shrug. "It is still funny!" More laughter.

Biting his lip with his big buck teeth, Supersonic went over to Katrina and took her by the hand. "Come on, let's go," he said quietly. He led her off the floor and they went into the locker rooms for their respective genders, Katrina emerging a few minutes later wearing a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and leather boots and jacket, while Supersonic wore only an old-fashioned flying helmet and goggles—which were presently on his forehead—and a leather satchel slung over his right shoulder. They exited the dojo onto the streets of Guadalajara.

"I thought we were here on vacation," Katrina grumped.

"We are," said Supersonic. "Hey, you know what's great about this city, apart from the art, the culture and the food?"

Katrina looked at him. "I remember you saying you didn't like Mexican food."

He grinned up at her. "I've acquired a taste for it. I can thank you for that. You're always introducing me to new things!"

Katrina grinned back. While it had been over a year since a magical wishing ring had changed him from an early 1960s cartoon character into a living being, a lot of things were still new to the squirrel. "Well, that is why you started hanging out with me. So, what else is great about Guadalajara?"

"It's only forty minutes from Puerto Vallarta and the best fishing in the world!"

"I never knew you liked to fish," Katrina said.

"I'm from Minnesota, the land of a thousand lakes! I love to fish!"

Katrina smiled. "You know, I've never been fishing."

"Well, that's something else I can teach you," Supersonic said brightly, "in return for all the stuff you've taught me!"

She crouched down to be eye-level with him. "Stuff like this?" She put her arms around the squirrel's neck and kissed him deeply, and he hugged her and kissed her back.

"I already knew about that," said Supersonic, looking embarrassed as people in the street stared at them.

"Yeah, but I taught you to be good at it," Katrina said, smiling and stroking his furry cheek. "Want to go back to our hotel room?"

Supersonic blinked. "What about fishing?"

"The fish'll be there tomorrow."

The squirrel hesitated, torn by indecision. Then his cell phone began buzzing inside his satchel. He took it out and checked it. It was a call from Silver Avenger Mayte Sanchez, director of PRIMUS. He put the phone to his ear. "Yes, Director?"

"Sorry to interrupt your vacation, Supersonic," she said, "but I have an assignment for you."

"An assignment?" the squirrel asked, his mouth dropping open.

"An assignment?" Katrina echoed. "What the hell?"

"Do not worry," Sanchez said, "it will not take long. Senator Preston Lakehurst is at the Guadalajara Hilton. He has been on a fact-finding mission in Mexico, and he has requested a PRIMUS escort to Mexico City."

"Why PRIMUS?" asked Supersonic, baffled. "That's not our usual line."

"He would not say," said Sanchez, "but he emphasized that it should be a PRIMUS agent. And since you are already in Guadalajara . . ."

Katrina snatched Supersonic's cell phone away from him. "Listen, Sanchez, you can't just yank Supersonic out of a well-earned vacation to babysit some senator!"

"Actually, she can," said Supersonic. "PRIMUS agents can be recalled at any time."

"Well, shit!" said Katrina, thrusting the cell phone back into the squirrel's hands.

"I apologize for this, Supersonic," said Sanchez. "I promise to extend your vacation by however long it takes you to complete this assignment."

Supersonic nodded. "That's very kind of you, Director."

"For what it is worth, this should be a milk run. Just accompany the senator to Mexico City, drop him off at his hotel, and you are done. And it will earn PRIMUS some much-needed goodwill in Congress."

"Always glad to do my part for the agency, Director," said Supersonic, trying to sound enthused.

"Thank you, Supersonic," said Sanchez. "You are a real trouper. I am glad I recruited you."

"Goodbye, Director," said Supersonic, and hung up. Then he looked at Kat and shrugged helplessly. "Duty calls."

"Duty sucks," Katrina sulked.

The squirrel nodded. "Sometimes." Then he brightened. "Have you ever met a senator?"

Katrina smirked. "I've met the president!"

"No, I've met the president. You just looked at him from a distance. Not the same thing."

"Then no, I haven't, and I don't want to, especially one who's interrupting my boyfriend's vacation!"

"I'm sure Senator Lakehurst has a good reason for this, Kat. Anyway, I was thinking maybe you could come with us to Mexico City. Then at least we could still be together." He gazed at her hopefully.

Katrina thought for a moment. "All right. It'll give me a chance to give him a piece of my mind." She smiled.

Supersonic swallowed, no longer certain this was such a good idea. "Promise me you'll be on your best behavior, Kat!"

"I promise," said Katrina, still smiling.

"Cross your heart?" the squirrel asked anxiously.

She stroked his furry face. "I love you, Supersonic. I would never do anything to embarrass you, or put you in Dutch with your boss. You have my word."

Supersonic sighed with relief. "Okay. Come on, let's head for the Hilton."

They got in their rented car and drove off, people staring after them as they disappeared.

Supersonic and Katrina parked around the side of the Guadalajara Hilton, got out of their car, and walked into the lobby, the squirrel talking animatedly about the big muskie he'd hooked in Lake Winnibigoshish.

"Wait, back up," said Katrina as they approached the front desk. "What's a muskie?"

Supersonic raised an eyebrow. "You don't know what a muskie is?"

"I told you, I don't know anything about fish or fishing."

"It's short for muskellunge," said Supersonic. "They're a kind of pike. They can get up to six feet long!"

"Yeah? How big was the one you caught?"

"About two and a half feet."

Katrina nodded. "And did this actually happen, or is it something you remember from your cartoon days?"

"It was when I was a cartoon."

"Then why didn't the writers have you catch a six-footer? That's what I would have done."

He shrugged his furry shoulders. "I dunno. Maybe they thought it didn't make sense for a three-foot squirrel to catch a six-foot muskie."

"It was a cartoon! It didn't have to make sense!"

"Well, when we get to Puerto Vallarta, I'm gonna catch a sailfish bigger than the biggest muskie that ever lived!"

Katrina grinned at him. "Anyone would think you'd rather fish than work."

Supersonic rolled his big black eyes. "Oh no, I'd much rather play nursemaid to a senator all the way from Guadalajara to Mexico City!" They stopped before the front desk, and the squirrel addressed the clerk. "Supersonic Squirrel and Katrina Werner to see Senator Lakehurst, por favor."

The clerk blinked at the pair for a moment, then picked up the phone and called the senator's suite.

Upstairs, a short, bald man with pale blue eyes picked up the phone. "Senator Lakehurst's suite," he said, in a high, flutey voice. He listened to the clerk for a moment, then nodded. "Send them right up." He hung up and turned around to face a thin, anxious-looking, sandy-haired man watching him from the doorway of the bedroom. The bald man gestured at the door to the hallway, and the sandy-haired man closed the bedroom door and went to open the other one. Immediately, a tall, dark-haired man, with hair graying at the temples and a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache, stepped inside. The tall man quickly moved up beside the door to the bedroom, pressing himself against the wall. "Senator," the bald man said, "could you come here for a minute?"

A gray-haired man with dark brown eyes emerged from the bedroom and looked at the bald man. "What is it, Matthew?" he asked, not seeing the tall man pressed against the wall beside the bedroom door. The tall man raised a hand, and a bolt of pure force shot from it and struck Senator Lakehurst squarely in the back, shattering his spine and ribcage and killing him instantly, while the sandy-haired man looked on in abject horror.

Matthew nodded to the tall man. "Good work, Alexander," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Take him into the bedroom." Alexander pointed a finger at the senator's body, which rose into the air and floated into the bedroom. Alexander followed it, closing the door behind him. Then, the sandy-haired man opened the door to the hall and Morph came in, now dressed in an expensive suit, his face a copy of the senator's.

"What do you think, Tom?" Matthew asked the sandy-haired man.

Tom swallowed, staring at Morph's face. "It's close. It's very close. Can he do the voice?"

"I've been studying recordings of it all night," said Morph, in Lakehurst's voice, though strained and with a distinct quaver. "Can I have a drink, please?"

"And mess up your face?" asked Matthew, glaring at him.

"I don't know," said Tom, looking anxious again. "Something's not right about him."

Matthew looked Morph over carefully. "The knot in his tie is wrong. Fix it." As Tom did so, Matthew continued, "There are two PRIMUS agents coming up to see you: Supersonic Squirrel and Katrina Werner. You're expecting them. When they arrive, tell them what we told you to say, and offer them drinks from that bottle." He indicated a bottle of bourbon on the counter. "Do not drink any yourself, understand?"

"It is poisoned?" Morph asked.

"No, we need them alive," Matthew said. "I just don't want you getting drunk and losing control of your appearance."

"These PRIMUS agents may know the senator!" Morph protested. "They could notice little differences, things like gestures, speech patterns, body language. They won't be fooled!"

Tom looked at Matthew, his expression now bordering on panic. "This isn't going to work, Matt!"

Matthew scowled at him. "It will work, as long as everybody does as they're told! Now get in there!" He pointed to the bedroom. Tom went inside, and Matthew followed him, leaving Morph alone in the living room. Matthew turned to face Morph. "Hail VIPER," he said, and closed the door.

Morph immediately went to the counter, poured himself a glass of bourbon, his hands shaking, and swallowed it in a single gulp. "Hail VIPER," he muttered.

The elevator door slid open, and Supersonic and Katrina stepped out onto a carpet bearing Aztec designs and began walking along it toward the senator's suite.

"I wonder if Senator Lakehurst fishes," Supersonic mused.

"All senators fish," Katrina replied. "Otherwise, how could they run their campaigns?"

The squirrel looked up at her. "Maybe we could coax him over to Veracruz."

"That's not a bad idea!" said Katrina.

They stopped before the door to the senator's suite, and Supersonic knocked on it. "Senator Lakehurst?"

A moment later, the door opened and Lakehurst stood before them, smiling. "Hello. How are you both?"

"We're fine, sir," said Supersonic, smiling back as he shook Lakehurst's hand. "I'm Supersonic Squirrel, and this is Katrina Werner."

Lakehurst shook Katrina's hand as well. "Nice to meet you. Please, come in." Supersonic and Katrina went into the living room as Lakehurst closed the door behind them. "I must say, you're not what I was expecting."

Katrina turned to face him. "Oh? What were you expecting?"

Lakehurst waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, you know, a couple of muscle-bound, gung-ho, all-American types."

"Well, I'm not actually a PRIMUS agent," said Katrina. "I just hang out with one. But Supersonic is definitely a gung-ho, all-American type, and he's got some muscle on him." She smiled down at the squirrel.

"You see, sir," said Supersonic, looking embarrassed, "we were vacationing together in Guadalajara when Director Sanchez gave me this assignment."

"Oh!" said Lakehurst, looking surprised. "I do hope you weren't inconvenienced!"

"Oh, no, sir!" Supersonic said quickly. "No trouble at all! It's a privilege to assist a member of our legislature!"

"Well, that's good," said Lakehurst. "Can I offer you both a drink?"

"Actually, Senator," said Supersonic, "I'm kind of curious why you asked PRIMUS for protection. This isn't the kind of thing we normally do. Is there something wrong with your own security?"

"Well, I suppose you're entitled to know," said Lakehurst, picking up a bottle of bourbon and pouring himself a glass. "You see, I've been investigating reports of possible VIPER activity here in Mexico, and I have reason to believe they may have targeted me for assassination."

Supersonic's eyes went wide at the mention of the global terrorist group. "VIPER? Holy cow, that's a whole different kettle of fish!"

"Speaking of fish," said Katrina, "it certainly is an honor to meet a great fisherman like yourself, Senator."

Lakehurst paused for a moment with the glass halfway to his mouth. "I hate fishing," he said, then took a gulp from his drink. Supersonic and Katrina glanced at each other and sighed.

"Now, then," said Lakehurst, "if you'll come back in an hour, I'll be ready to go to the airport. Shall we toast the success of your mission?" He smiled at them.

Katrina shrugged. "Sure, why not?" Lakehurst poured her a glass and offered it to her. She took it and held it up. "To the mission!" she said, knocking it back.

"I don't usually drink," said Supersonic, "but I guess this is okay. Could you add some soda water to it, though?" Lakehurst did so, and the squirrel accepted the glass and took a gulp, doing his best not to make a face.

"See you in an hour, Senator," said Katrina, heading for the door.

As Supersonic turned to go, Lakehurst staggered and fell to one knee. The squirrel ran to him, helping him to his feet. As he did so, he noticed with surprise that the man's left eye had changed from dark brown to light blue. Seeing the look on his face, Lakehurst quickly turned away.

"Are you okay, sir?" Supersonic asked, baffled.

"Yes, I'm fine," said Lakehurst. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

The squirrel nodded, still confused. "See you in an hour, sir." He turned and went out into the hall to join Katrina.

"'I hate fishing,'" said Katrina, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her leather jacket as they walked back toward the elevator. "A hundred senators, and we get the one who hates fishing. And I sure gave him a piece of my mind, didn't I? 'My boyfriend has muscles!'" As they reached the elevator, she glanced down at Supersonic, realizing the squirrel had been silent since they'd left the senator's suite. "Something wrong, fuzzy?"

Supersonic turned around and looked back at the door of the suite, then up at Katrina. "That was Senator Lakehurst we just met, right?"

Katrina nodded. "Yes, and we got screwed, because we could have gone fishing."

"Why would he have two different-colored eyes?" the squirrel asked.

"Because they're in his head," Katrina replied.

"When I helped him up," said Supersonic, "I saw a brown eye and a blue eye. Wouldn't someone have mentioned that?"

Katrina looked at him skeptically. "Are you sure that whiskey and soda didn't go to your furry little head? 'Cause I only saw two brown eyes."

The squirrel frowned, his hands on his hips. "I know what I saw, Kat!"

Katrina grinned. "Care to bet on it?"

"How much?"

"Five bucks?"

"You're on!"

They turned and went back to the senator's suite, and Supersonic knocked on the door. Lakehurst answered a moment later, looking at them with a pair of dark brown eyes and clearly annoyed. "Yes?" he asked.

"Well, sir," said the squirrel, hesitantly, "it just occurred to us that we hadn't offered to help you pack."

Lakehurst growled. "I'll need help if I continue to be interrupted!" He slammed the door in their faces.

Katrina held out her hand, and Supersonic sighed, reached into his satchel, took out a five-dollar bill, and handed it to her. "Happy now?" she asked.

"There were two different-colored eyes!" Supersonic insisted as they walked back toward the elevator. "How could one of his eyes change color?"

"Want me to read his mind and find out?" Katrina asked.

The squirrel looked up at her, horrified. "He's a United States senator, Kat! You can't just go poking around in his mind!"

She grinned. "Who's gonna stop me?"

"Me, for one! Anyway, I'm sure his suite contains a portable Porgrave broadcaster to keep any telepath from doing exactly what you're thinking about doing!"

"Yeah, you're probably right," said Katrina. She furrowed her brow for a moment, and then her eyes went wide. "What the hell?"

"What's wrong?" asked Supersonic.

"I'm not getting anything!"

"See, I told you!"

"No, that's not what I mean. Whenever I open up my mind around one of those things, I get a headful of static. But I don't hear any!"

Supersonic looked confused. "But he must have one!"

"Take your helmet off," Katrina said.

The squirrel did so, and Katrina tried to read his mind. Without the anti-psionic microcircuitry PRIMUS had installed in his helmet, she should have been able to, easily. She shook her head. "Nothing."

"So your powers are gone?" Supersonic asked, eyes wide. "How could that happen?"

"The only thing I can think of is I must have been dosed with some kind of psi-suppressant drug," Katrina replied.

Supersonic remembered that his wind powers were telekinetic in nature. He held his hands cupped before him and tried to create a sphere of compressed air between them. Nothing happened. "Mine aren't working either," the squirrel said. "But how could . . ."

Then they both said, "The whiskey!"

"That bastard spiked our drinks!" snarled Katrina, glaring down the hall at the door to the senator's suite. She took a step in that direction, then stopped when Supersonic grabbed her arm.

"Wait, Kat!" the squirrel protested. "We can't just barge in there and start giving him the third degree!"

"Why the hell not?" she demanded.

"Because he's a United States senator!"

"So?"

"So suppose he calls the police? We have no proof he drugged us!"

"What about the whiskey?"

"He could have poured that down the drain by now." Supersonic took out his cell phone and tried to call Director Sanchez, but then looked down at it in surprise. "I've got no reception!"

"How can you have no reception in a hotel?" asked Katrina, taking out her own cell phone, trying a number, and getting the same result.

"This smells like a setup!" Supersonic growled.

"Ya think?" asked Kat. "So what do we do about it?"

Supersonic was about to answer when the door to the senator's suite opened and a tall, dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache and hair graying at the temples stepped out into the hall. The squirrel gasped when he saw him. "Draconis!"

"Who?" asked Kat.

"Look out!" cried Supersonic, pushing her to one side as the man raised a hand and fired a bolt of pure force. It missed them and hit the door to the elevator, caving it in as though it had been struck by a charging rhinoceros.

"The stairs!" Kat shouted. She and Supersonic dashed to the stairwell next to the elevator, bursting through the door. Draconis smiled and ran after them.

Supersonic and Katrina bounded down the stairs until they reached the ground floor, then exited through an emergency door into an alley beside the hotel. Once there, they looked around for a place to lose their pursuer. A large open-air market just down the street seemed the safest bet. They headed for it.

They weaved among the numerous stalls selling merchandise of various kinds, occasionally glancing back to see if Draconis was still after them. Catching a glimpse of him standing near the edge of the market, scanning it for his quarry, they ducked down behind a stall selling avocados. From there, they made their way along the aisle toward the far side of the market, Katrina crouching to keep low, while shoppers and proprietors stared at them in bemusement. Once clear of the market, they ran across a street, dodging traffic, around a corner, and into another alley, where they paused to catch their breaths.

"Who the hell is Draconis?" asked Katrina, panting.

"Alexander Dracoulides," Supersonic replied, his furry chest heaving. "Greek national, powerful telekinetic. One of VIPER's superpowered operatives."

Katrina's eyes widened. "So VIPER's behind this? I guess that makes sense. We did stop them from kidnaping those three aliens last year."

"I don't know," said Supersonic, rubbing his chin. "If VIPER wanted us dead, then why not just kill us? Why the all the subterfuge? And petty revenge seems kind of beneath them. Besides, if they tried to kill everyone who's ever thwarted them, they'd never have time to do anything else!"

"So you think this is part of some bigger plan?" Katrina asked.

"That would be VIPER's style," said Supersonic. "Plans within plans, wheels within wheels."

"And how does the senator fit in?"

"I don't think that was the senator."

"You mean because of the eye thing?"

The squirrel nodded. "VIPER may have replaced him with an imposter. They've pulled that trick before."

"But to what end?" Katrina asked. "Someone would figure out he's a fake pretty quickly. You did, and you don't even know him!"

"It would help if we knew more about the senator's itinerary."

"Well, we know he was headed for Mexico City."

"I've gotta contact PRIMUS." said Supersonic. He took out his cell phone and tried it. "My phone's still dead. How about yours?"

"Same," said Katrina. "VIPER must be blocking them, somehow."

"That wouldn't be too hard for them," said Supersonic. "So, now what do we do?"

Katrina shrugged. "Guadalajara's a tourist town. There must be a place where we can buy a cell phone around here somewhere."

They left the alley, checking first to see if Draconis was lurking anywhere nearby, and walked along the sidewalk together until they spied a Motorola dealership across the street. They ran toward it and were about to go in when they noticed that a television in the storefront window had their faces side by side on the screen while an announcer's voice saying something in Spanish came from the speakers. Supersonic swallowed, recognizing the words "senador de los Estados Unidos" and "muerto." "Are we being accused of killing the senator?" he asked fearfully.

Katrina shook her head. "No, we're being accused of killing someone named Thomas Claremont, one of his aides." Then they both jumped as someone nearby shouted, "Asesinos! Policia!" Suddenly, they were surrounded by a crowd of decidedly unfriendly faces.

"What's the penalty for murder down here?" Supersonic asked.

"Life and a hard beating," Katrina replied.

The squirrel nodded. "Then let's go."

They began moving through the crowd, slowly at first, then breaking into a run as more people pointed and shouted at them. They dashed down the sidewalk together and ducked into another alley, pursued by a mob.

"So much for being a good neighbor," Supersonic muttered as they ran.

"Director!" shouted PRIMUS agent Terry Koestler, bursting into her superior's office. "We just picked something up on Mexican television!"

Silver Avenger Mayte Sanchez looked up from her desk as Koestler went to the large flatscreen TV on the wall and changed the channel. Sanchez's eyes widened when she saw the faces of Supersonic Squirrel and Katrina Werner on the screen and heard what the announcer was saying about them. "What the hell?" she asked, standing up.

"They're accused of killing an aide to Senator Lakehurst!" said Koestler.

"Yes, I heard," said Sanchez. "Has anyone spoken to them?"

"Peter tried calling them both," Koestler replied, "but they're not answering."

"What about the senator?"
"We got his aide, Matthew Bainbridge. He confirmed the story. The Federales have an APB out on them."

Sanchez put her hands on her desk, looking down at it and shaking her white-haired head. "I cannot believe that Supersonic would ever flat-out murder someone. He is the straightest arrow I've ever known!"

"Well, his girlfriend is a psi," Koestler said hesitantly. "And they did break those three aliens out of PRIMUS custody last year."

Sanchez gave her a cold stare. "I am quite familiar with that incident, Agent Koestler."

Koestler nodded and swallowed. It had been the aftermath of that incident, when VIPER had tried to abduct the aliens for its own purposes, that had resulted in the death of the Golden Avenger, the previous director of PRIMUS. "Orders, Director?"

Sanchez thought for a moment. "Unfortunately, the fact that they are in a foreign country greatly limits what we can do. PRIMUS has no jurisdiction in Mexico, and the Mexican authorities are unlikely to appreciate any interference by us in their affairs."

"Perhaps UNTIL could help," Koestler suggested. "They have agents in Mexico."

"I would prefer not to bring them into this unless it becomes necessary," said Sanchez. "Tell Agent St. Croix to keep trying to reach Supersonic. And get me all the information we have on Senator Lakehurst and his staff."

Koestler nodded and ran to carry out her instructions. Sanchez sat back down, took out her cell phone, and made a long-distance call.

In a cramped, book-lined office on the campus of the National Autonomous University of Mexico, behind a desk covered with scientific papers and zoological specimens, sat a thin, handsome, dark-skinned man in his late thirties with a mustache, reading a monograph on birds of the Yucatan. At the ringtone of his cell phone, he sighed, put down the monograph, and checked to see who was calling. His eyes widened when he saw the caller's identity. "Doctor Tamañaro," he said. "Que pasa, Director Sanchez?"

"Hello, Miguel," Sanchez said, speaking Spanish. "Not well, I am afraid. Have you seen the news?"

"I have been occupied for the past hour with a very boring paper," Tamañaro replied. "What's going on?"

"One of my men has been accused of killing a United States senator's aide in Guadalajara."

Tamañaro blinked. "What?"

"The Federales have an APB out on him. It's Supersonic Squirrel."

"The one who used to be a cartoon character?"

"Yes. I recruited him into PRIMUS myself, so this could make me look very bad."

"I imagine it could."

"I have no presence or authority in Mexico, but you have helped out PRIMUS down there before, Miguel. I would appreciate it if you could use your abilities to find him and find out what's going on, if it is not too much trouble."

Tamañaro fingered the wooden totem of a cat's head hanging by a cord around his neck. "Of course I will be happy to help, Director."

"I should probably mention that his girlfriend is with him, and she is a psionic. Her name is Katrina Werner."

Tamañaro nodded. "That should not present any difficulties. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"I do not believe that Supersonic would do this of his own free will," said Sanchez. "But I cannot rule out the possibility that Werner may be mentally influencing him. She is an anti-establishment sort who has used her powers to commit crimes in the past, though admittedly, murder seems a bit out of her line. In any case, do not be deceived by Supersonic's appearance. He is very powerful, so exercise extreme caution."

"Understood," Tamañaro replied. "Goodbye, Director." He hung up, rose from his desk, and left his office.

"Do you think we lost them?" Supersonic asked as Katrina stood on her toes and peered out the broken window of the junk-strewn basement they were hiding in.

"For the moment," she replied, "but we can't stay here long. This place is gonna be swarming with cops soon."

The squirrel scowled, folding his arms. "Why is it that when I'm with you, I always seem to end up getting chased by the police?"

"You can't blame this one on me, lover," said Katrina. "This time, I'm just an innocent victim of circumstance."

Supersonic sighed and sank down to the floor with his back against the wall. "I know. I'm sorry, Kat."

She sat down beside him. "Don't be sorry. Figure a way out of this."

"Well, as I see it, we have two options. One, we can give ourselves up and hope this mess gets straightened out. Director Sanchez knows me well enough to know I'm not a killer, and I'm sure she can persuade the Mexican government to release us, or at least have us deported back to the United States. The problem with that is it doesn't get us any closer to finding out what's going on. I'm sure this frame job is part of a larger plan, something involving the phony senator."

Katrina nodded. "What's Option Two?"

"We go to Mexico City. That's where the senator was headed, so that's where we should be, too."

"Well, the problem with that," said Katrina, "is we are both fugitives and presently without conveyance."

The squirrel looked up at her. "You can help with the second part."

She raised an eyebrow. "You want me to steal a car?"

"You did it when we broke those three aliens out of PRIMUS custody."

"I know. I'm just surprised you'd suggest such a thing."

He shrugged. "I'm not crazy about the idea, but I have to consider the greater good. I'd do it myself, but you stand out less than I do."

They both stood up, ascended the rickety wooden stairs to the ground floor of the abandoned building, and peered out the open doorway into the street. There was a beat-up old sedan parked just down the way. They waited until the coast was clear, and then Katrina ran to the car and tried the door. Unsurprisingly, it was locked. She knelt, removed a set of lockpicks from her jacket, and started working on it while Supersonic kept watch. Within a minute she had the door unlocked and was inside the car, hot-wiring the ignition. The engine turned over, and Supersonic bolted from the doorway to the car and jumped in the passenger side.

"Gone in sixty seconds!" said Katrina, throwing the car into drive.

"Huh?" Supersonic asked.

"It's a movie, with Nicolas Cage."

"Oh yeah, the crazy guy."

"Actually," said Katrina, as they pulled out, "it was a remake of a movie from 1974 with a 40-minute chase scene that destroyed 93 cars."

The squirrel looked up at her. "Try not to wreck that many."

She grinned. "No promises!"

In the terminal building of Guadalajara International Airport, Senator Preston Lakehurst addressed a crowd of reporters, his aide Matthew Bainbridge at his side. The senator looked nervous and uneasy, his dark brown eyes darting around as if seeking a means of escape, and his voice quavered as he spoke, occasionally changing pitch, so he hardly sounded like himself at all.

"Senator, have you anything to say regarding the murder of your aide Thomas Claremont by the PRIMUS agent Supersonic Squirrel?" a reporter asked.

Lakehurst cleared his throat several times, as though something were caught in it. "Tom Claremont," he said at last, speaking slowly and deliberately, "was a very close and dear friend who served me loyally for many years. He was like a member of my own family. Nobody could be sadder than I that an agent of PRIMUS is responsible for his death."

"Do you have any idea why Supersonic Squirrel killed him, Senator?" asked another reporter.

"Tom courageously threw himself into the path of a wind blast intended for me," Lakehurst replied.

"You mean you were his real target, Senator?" a third reporter asked.

Lakehurst nodded. "Tom died saving my life, something for which I will be eternally grateful."

"What did Supersonic have against you, Senator?" asked a fourth reporter.

"For the past few weeks, I have been engaged in a fact-finding mission regarding the activities of the terrorist organization VIPER here in Mexico. I can only conclude that he sought to silence me before I could reveal my findings."

"Are you suggesting that Supersonic Squirrel is actually working for VIPER?" the first reporter asked, sounding incredulous.

"Well, he was present at the death of the Golden Avenger, the previous director of PRIMUS. He attributed the Avenger's murder to the VIPER agent known as Freon, but of course we only have his word for that."

"You mean Supersonic may have killed the Avenger himself?" asked the third reporter.

"I think that very likely, in view of recent events," Lakehurst replied. "Let me just add, I always questioned the wisdom of allowing a creature of such dubious origins to become a PRIMUS agent. After all, he used to be a cartoon character, which doesn't suggest a high level of stability. And he has a human girlfriend who is a telepath, and who was expelled from Ravenswood Academy for misusing her powers."

"Do you think she might be a VIPER agent, too?" asked the second reporter.

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised," said Lakehurst.

"Is all this going to affect your meeting with the president of the United States in Mexico City this evening?" asked the first reporter.

"My meeting with the president will proceed as planned," said Lakehurst. "I believe he will be most interested in my findings. Now, if you ladies and gentlemen of the press will excuse me, I have a plane to catch." With that, he and Bainbridge headed for the gate to their flight.

Supersonic and Katrina sped east along Route 150 through the desolate, arid Mexican countryside, Katrina driving while the squirrel kept a lookout for police cars and ducked down out of sight every time they came near another vehicle.

"It's 344 miles from Guadalajara to Mexico City," said Katrina. "With luck, we should be there in less than six hours."

Supersonic scowled at her. "Have you noticed anything about our luck lately? Any pattern jumping out at you?"

Katrina glanced back at him. "Well, if you know a faster way to get there, boyfriend, I'm all ears. And speaking of ears . . ."

She switched on the car's radio and tried to find a news station. After a few seconds, she tuned in to a Spanish-speaking announcer, and Supersonic heard their names and those of PRIMUS and VIPER. "What's he saying about us?" the squirrel asked.

Katrina bit her lip. "You're not going to like it."

"Tell me anyway."

She looked at him. "Senator Lakehurst—or whoever he is—claims that you tried to kill him, that you may have killed the Golden Avenger, and that we're both VIPER agents."

Supersonic's bucktoothed mouth fell open and his black eyes went wide. "VIPER agents?"

"He also insinuated that you're mentally unstable and outed me as a telepath."

The squirrel sat silently for a moment, staring at the dashboard, and Katrina reached over and squeezed his furry hand. "I'm sorry, lover," she said.

Supersonic snarled and slammed his fist against the car door. "Unstable? VIPER agent? Does he have any idea how much psychological testing and telepathic examination I had to go through to join PRIMUS? Does he think they don't screen their applicants? I scored higher on stress tests than anyone in their history, including Sanchez!"

"I'm pretty sure he knows you're not a VIPER agent," Katrina said.

He looked up at her with a mournful expression. "And now everyone knows you're a telepath!"

She shrugged. "I always figured it would come out sooner or later. Too many people already knew. Hold on." She listened intently to what the radio announcer was saying.

"Something about the president?" asked Supersonic.

She nodded. "Lakehurst is meeting with him in Mexico City."

The squirrel gasped. "That's it! It has to be! VIPER is gonna kill the president! When is the meeting taking place?"

"The announcer didn't specify. The president is supposed to arrive later tonight. He's on a goodwill tour of Latin America."

"Then we may still be able to intercept Lakehurst, even if he gets to Mexico City before us!"

"Considering he's flying and we're driving, I'd say he's certain to beat us there."

"We just have to hope nothing else goes wrong," said Supersonic.

At that moment, they both heard a siren behind them and turned their heads to see the flashing blue and red lights of a police car. Supersonic groaned and sank down into his seat.

"Looks like you were right about our luck, boyfriend," said Katrina. She ground her teeth and slammed her foot down on the accelerator.

Somewhere outside of Mexico City, after the surrounding suburbs had petered out, Dr. Miguel Tamañaro pulled his jeep off the highway and began driving cross-country. He drove for about a mile across the dusty countryside, then stopped when he reached a place from which no evidence of civilization was visible. He left his jeep and walked about a hundred yards, his shoes crunching on the dry desert earth, until he could no longer see his vehicle, then closed his eyes and said in Nahuatl, the ancient tongue of the Aztecs, "Jaguarundi, come forth!"

At once, his body changed into a muscular humanoid figure covered in sleek, dark gray fur, with a tail, clawed hands and feet, and the flattened, small-eared head of a jaguarundi cat. His human clothing had vanished, replaced by a red loincloth. The only thing he retained from his previous form was the wooden cat-headed totem hanging around his neck.

Jaguarundi opened his golden eyes, seated himself cross-legged on the ground, and began chanting in Nahuatl in a soft, deep voice, "Spirits of my ancestors, show me the ones I seek!" At once, a vision appeared before him of an old sedan barreling down a highway, pursued by a police car. He growled softly, rose, changed back to his human form, returned to his jeep, and began driving back to the highway.

Katrina and Supersonic sped down the highway with a Mexican police car in pursuit, its siren blaring.

"Well, this brings back unpleasant memories," Supersonic growled.

"Pity you can't use your wind powers to stop them, like you did in Los Angeles," said Katrina.

"You know they've already radioed ahead to set up a roadblock," the squirrel said. "We're gonna be boxed in with no place to go."

Katrina nodded. "I know."

"So, what are we gonna do?"

"I'm thinking, lover."

Supersonic peered ahead. "Looks like we're coming up on some dangerous curves."

Katrina grinned. "Terrific!" She pushed the accelerator down harder.

Supersonic looked down at her foot dubiously. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Trust me, lover, I know what I'm doing."

They began pulling away from the police car behind them as they approached the curves. Katrina swerved, tires screeching as she took the curve at well above the recommended speed, and Supersonic yelped, eyes wide, as their car squealed along the guardrail, throwing off sparks. The officers looked at each other and slowed down, unwilling to risk their lives to keep pace with a quarry that appeared determined to kill itself. In any case, it wasn't as though there were anywhere it could go.

The police car drove along the twisting, winding road at a safe speed, and then the officers both gasped at the sound of an explosion up ahead, followed by the sight of a rising fireball. Rounding a curve and seeing a broken guardrail, they pulled up next to it, stopped, and got out of their car. Down a steep incline, at the bottom of a ravine, lay the flaming wreck of the car they'd been chasing, belching oily black smoke. As they stood gazing down at the wreck, two figures emerged from behind some nearby brush and made off into the desert on the other side of the road.

In a suite in the Sofitel Mexico City Reforma luxury hotel, Morph sat in a chair, sweating and looking miserable, though the room was quite cool. He looked down at his hand. It was shaking, and as he regarded it, its skin color changed from Senator Lakehurst's normal pink tone to dark brown, to bright blue, then to yellow with purple spots. He covered his face with his hands, shivering. Bainbridge hadn't allowed him to have a drink on the plane or at the airport, and he knew he was now suffering from alcohol withdrawal. In addition, his stomach was upset, his heart was pounding, and he had a headache.

He looked desperately around the suite, but there was nothing to drink. Then he jumped as Bainbridge entered the room, carrying a suitcase. "You look terrible," the bald man said, with clinical detachment.

"I feel terrible," said Morph, swallowing. "Can't I have just one drink, please?"

"No," said Bainbridge, walking over to him. "I don't want you losing control of your appearance."

"I'm already losing control!" Morph protested. "A drink will help me relax!"

Bainbridge smirked. "Like when you let Supersonic Squirrel see you with two different-colored eyes? No, I'm not risking it. We're too close." He laid the briefcase down on the table in front of Morph and opened it. There was a cylindrical device attached to the inside of the case, with wires going up to the handle. "Now, when you meet with the president, it will be just the two of you in the room. You hold the briefcase with this end pointed at him. Make sure it's aimed at his chest. Then press this button on the handle." He tapped the cylinder. "This device will fire a bolt of pure force. The effect will be identical to being struck by one of Supersonic Squirrel's wind blasts. Then open the window and call for help. When the Secret Service arrive, tell them you saw Supersonic Squirrel fly in and kill the president. Have you got all that?"

Morph nodded. "When does it happen?"

"Not for a few hours yet. Air Force One is still en route to Mexico City. Then there will be all sorts of preliminaries to get through. So just relax." He smiled reassuringly.

Morph sank back in his chair and sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Poor little fellow."

Bainbridge scowled and slapped him. "No sympathy! Compassion is weakness; that's one of VIPER's core truths. Supersonic Squirrel is simply a component in a plan, nothing more."

"But suppose he's captured!" said Morph. "They'll read his mind and find out he didn't do it!"

Bainbridge smiled. "That's already being seen to. Trust me, he won't be captured."

"So, here we are again," said Katrina, her leather jacket flung over one shoulder as she and Supersonic walked along the hot, lonely, dusty road they'd been following for the past hour. "Out in the desert, wanted by the law. Just like Pancho Villa."

"He ended up being assassinated," Supersonic muttered, kicking at the dirt.

She glanced down at the squirrel. "You know, you can be a real downer sometimes."

"Well, VIPER's gonna kill the president," said Supersonic, "and we're probably gonna be blamed for it, so I'm in kind of a bad mood."

"Here's what I don't understand," said Katrina. "Why are they doing this? I mean, presidents have been killed before. The vice-president takes over and life goes on. Nothing really changes. So what do they get out of it?"

Supersonic shook his head. "You have to understand VIPER. They're all about fear. By killing the president, they're telling the whole world 'We can kill anyone, anywhere, at any time. Nobody is safe from us.'" Then he stopped and turned around, his tail twitching. "There's a car coming."

"Hopefully, they haven't been listening to the radio," said Katrina. "We're both pretty conspicuous."

They stood and waited as the car grew larger in the distance, its shape distorted by the heat waves above the road. It stopped about fifty feet from them, one of the rear doors opened, and a man in an expensive suit got out.

It was Draconis.

Supersonic growled and dropped into a martial arts stance as the VIPER agent walked casually toward them. "I'm not going down without a fight!" he shouted.

Draconis pointed a finger at Katrina and she cried out as she rose into the air, floating helplessly. "Is that so?" he asked, speaking in a deep, melodius voice with a mild Greek accent.

"Don't hurt her!" yelled Supersonic, looking up at Katrina anxiously.

Draconis smiled. "That depends on you, squirrel."

Supersonic sighed. "What do you want?"

"To offer you a ride." He lowered Katrina back to the ground and gestured at the car. "Get in."

Katrina shrugged. "Fine, I was getting tired of walking anyway." She went to the car and got in the back, followed by Supersonic and Draconis. There were a man and a woman wearing dark suits and sunglasses in the front seats.

"Where are you taking us?" asked Supersonic, as the car began to move.

Draconis looked down at him, grinning. "Into the history books. You will be joining some very distinguished company: Booth, Guiteau, Czolgosz, Oswald . . ."

"If I remember my American history correctly," said Katrina, "apart from Booth, who was a famous actor, those guys were all losers."

Draconis nodded. "While Supersonic is an agent of PRIMUS, recruited personally by its current director. Imagine how the American people will view it after this." He grinned.

Supersonic shook his head. "It's not gonna work."

"Oh?" asked Draconis, raising an eyebrow. "Why not?"

The squirrel grinned up at him, buck teeth gleaming. "Because it's VIPER! Every time you guys have tried to pull a stunt like this, it's blown up in your faces!"

Draconis frowned. "We killed the Golden Avenger, and he was a lot tougher than the president."

"That was an accident! Freon didn't even mean to kill him! I know, I was there! And what's he been up to lately? Has anyone seen or heard from Fred Ellsworth in the past year? He's the most wanted man in the world! He can't show his face in public anywhere, for fear of every hero in a fifty-mile radius swooping in to take him down! His life is over! You better hope your plan fails, Draconis, because on the off chance it does succeed, VIPER will be wiped off the map and you and your nutjob boss, the Supreme Serpent, will either end up dead or in adjoining cells in Stronghold Prison!"

Once the little squirrel finished his rant, Draconis stared at him for a long moment, then sat back in his seat and folded his arms. "We shall see."

The car stopped outside an old abandoned garage in the middle of nowhere. Everyone got out, and Draconis and the other two VIPER agents escorted Katrina and Supersonic inside. The garage was strewn with miscellaneous junk, which looked as though it hadn't been touched in years, and contained a dirty old van covered with patches of rust. One of the agents opened the back of the van. "Get in," she said.

"Why don't you just shoot us?" Supersonic asked Draconis defiantly.

Draconis smiled. "That would create too many problems," he replied. "Bullet holes, bruises and broken bones . . . these would have to be explained. This way, you both crawled into the van to hide after killing the president, but you didn't know it had a leaky exhaust pipe, so you both asphyxiated. Neat, simple, clean."

"In that case," said Katrina, "what's to stop us both from making a break for it, since we know you can't shoot us?"

"I said shooting you would create problems," said Draconis, "but not that they are insurmountable ones. A way would be found to explain things. Perhaps the van could crash after being shot at by the police. This is simply the easiest way, for us and for you."

Katrina smirked. "Your concern for our welfare is overwhelming."

Draconis chuckled. "Do not confuse laziness with compassion."

Supersonic rolled his eyes. "Oh, God forbid a VIPER agent show compassion!"

"That is not our way, squirrel, as you well know. Now, if you would?"

Supersonic sighed and looked up at Katrina. "Well, I guess this is it. Ladies first?"

"Chivalry is dead, Supersonic," said Katrina. "You go on ahead."

The squirrel shrugged his furry shoulders. "If you insist." He turned and walked toward the back of the van. As he did so, he stepped upon a flat metal dolly used for sliding mechanics beneath cars. He kicked his foot back, and the dolly shot backward, the edge ramming into Draconis's shins and making him cry out in pain. At the same moment, Katrina seized the female VIPER agent's arm and executed a judo throw, slamming her to the concrete floor on her back. The male VIPER agent drew an energy pistol from his jacket, but Supersonic knocked it aside with his left hand and slugged him in the stomach with his right.

Then Supersonic saw Draconis's eyes beginning to glow, his bearded face twisted into a snarl. "Run, Kat!" the squirrel screamed, dodging as Draconis fired a force bolt from his hand that blew a hole in the garage's cinder-block wall. Katrina dashed through the door and out into the desert, with Supersonic right behind.

Katrina and Supersonic ran across the parched Mexican earth, kicking up clouds of dust, heading for the car Draconis and his allies had driven them here in. "Think you can beat Nicolas Cage's time for hot-wiring a car?" the squirrel asked, gasping for breath.

"I can sure as hell try!" Katrina replied.

Draconis came staggering out of the garage, gritting his teeth in pain. He saw where the pair were headed, raised his hand, and fired a force bolt. It struck the car, ripping through it and blasting the engine block right out of the chassis.

"Well, so much for that," Supersonic muttered as they both stopped and turned to face Draconis.

"I am going to enjoy killing you, rodent," Draconis said, grinning and taking aim at Supersonic. The squirrel tried to create a shield of solidified air to block the impending attack, but was able to summon only a slight swirl of wind.

"Shit," said Supersonic, shaking his head. He looked up at Katrina. "I'm sorry, Kat."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world, lover," Katrina replied.

Suddenly, Draconis cried out as he was jerked backward, and his hands flew to his neck as though he were struggling with something that could not be seen. A moment later, a muscular, cat-headed man with dark gray fur and wearing only a red loincloth appeared behind him, one arm locked around his throat.

"Jaguarundi!" Supersonic cried out.

"Who?" asked Katrina.

"Mexican hero," the squirrel explained. "He's helped out PRIMUS before."

At that moment, the other two VIPER agents emerged from the garage, both holding energy pistols. Seeing that Jaguarundi had Draconis in a choke hold, they aimed and fired at the cat man. A shimmering bubble sprang up around Draconis and Jaguarundi, and the two plasma bolts bounced harmlessly off it.

While the two VIPER agents were distracted, Supersonic and Katrina charged, the squirrel launching himself at the male agent in a flying tackle, knocking him down, while Katrina went after the female agent. Supersonic forced the man's arm behind him at an agonizing angle, making the VIPER agent groan in pain and writhe on his stomach as the squirrel viciously rammed his knee into the man's back and slammed his opponent's face into the dirt repeatedly until he stopped moving.

Unfortunately, Katrina was having less luck with her opponent, the female VIPER agent twisting out of her grasp and knocking her away with a karate kick. As Katrina stumbled backward, the female agent aimed and fired, and a bolt of plasma burned through Katrina's abdomen.

"Kat!" Supersonic screamed as Katrina fell, and grabbed the male agent's pistol, holding it with both hands. As the female agent whirled to face him with her gun leveled, he fired, shooting her squarely in the chest. The female agent fell and lay spread-eagled on the ground as Supersonic ran to Katrina and knelt beside her.

Meanwhile, Draconis and Jaguarundi continued to struggle. The Mexican hero tried to bury his fangs in the VIPER agent's neck, but was stopped by a telekinetic force field that surrounded Draconis's entire body. That field suddenly expanded explosively, making Jaguarundi grunt with pain, but he did not relax his hold. Then he saw Supersonic kneeling beside Katrina, cradling her in his arms as she gurgled blood. "Oh God, no, Kat, please, don't go!" the squirrel begged, his eyes rimmed with tears. Jaguarundi snarled and hurled Draconis away from him, sending the VIPER agent flying thirty feet through the air to tumble across the ground while the cat man sprinted toward Supersonic and Katrina.

Draconis got to his feet, brushing the dirt from his expensive suit. Then he noticed a jeep parked behind some sagebrush nearby, out of sight of the garage. Smiling, he began running toward it.

Supersonic looked up from Katrina at Jaguarundi desperately when the cat man reached them. "She's dying!" the squirrel said, his voice tight. "Please, you gotta help her!" Jaguarundi nodded, crouching beside the girl, and laid his clawed hands over the wound in her stomach. His hands glowed, and the wound sealed up.

Katrina blinked, looking down at herself. "Wow!" was all she said. Supersonic cried out with relief and threw his arms around her, holding her close, his tail flicking. Then they all looked up at the sound of an engine turning over, and saw a jeep bouncing off into the desert, Draconis at the wheel, leaving a contrail of brown dust behind it.

"Can you stop him?" Jaguarundi asked, turning to Supersonic.

The squirrel shook his head. "VIPER dosed us both with some drug that took away our powers. I can't fly."

"Ah, that explains why you used a gun."

Supersonic nodded, looking down at the energy pistol in his hand, then at the dead female VIPER agent. "Yeah."

Katrina rubbed the squirrel's helmeted head gently, then addressed Jaguarundi. "Thanks for the save. Only, how did you know where to find us?"

"I am a shaman," the cat man replied. "The spirits guided me."

"O-o-okay," said Katrina, looking at him dubiously.

"Never mind that," said Supersonic. "Do you have a cell phone, Jaguarundi?"

Jaguarundi growled. "It was in my jeep."

The squirrel stamped his foot. "Damn it!"

"Do you not have cell phones of your own?" Jaguarundi asked.

"VIPER deactivated them," Katrina replied.

"I see," said Jaguarundi. "What do you need one for?"

"To stop VIPER from killing the president!" Supersonic exclaimed.

"The president of the United States?" asked Jaguarundi, looking surprised.

Katrina nodded. "He's arriving in Mexico City this evening. He may already be there." She glanced at the long shadows being cast along the ground by the setting sun.

"What about these two?" asked Jaguarundi, gesturing at the two VIPER agents lying nearby. Supersonic ran to the unconscious male agent while Katrina ran to the dead female agent, and they both searched the agents' pockets until they found their cell phones.

"No signal," said Supersonic disgustedly.

"Same here," said Katrina, crouching beside the female agent. "VIPER must have deactivated them, too."

"So," said Supersonic, "we can't contact anyone!"

"There may yet be a way," said Jaguarundi.

"How?" asked Katrina.

"Astral projection."

Supersonic blinked his big black eyes. "You can do that?"

Jaguarundi nodded. "I will be in spirit form—devoid of substance, but still able to be seen and heard."

Katrina looked thoughtful. "Can you do that for someone else?"

"I have never tried," said Jaguarundi, "but it should be possible."

"Then do it to Supersonic," said Katrina.

The squirrel looked at her. "Why me?"

"Because you know what the assassin looks like. He doesn't."

"That's assuming he still looks the same," Supersonic reminded her.

"He must have taken Lakehurst's form for a reason," said Katrina. "I'm guessing it was because it would allow him to get close to the president."

The squirrel nodded. "That makes sense."

"Be warned, Supersonic," said Jaguarundi, "this is not without risk. A body cannot live without a spirit animating it. If you are gone for too long, your body will die, and you will be trapped in your spirit form, a ghost wandering the Earth forever."

"How long do I have?" asked Supersonic.

"You are young and in good health, so perhaps half an hour. Perhaps less. You will feel your body dying."

Supersonic nodded. "I'm a PRIMUS agent. Risk is my business. What do I have to do?"

"Lie down," said Jaguarundi.

Supersonic lay down on the ground on his back and Jaguarundi sat beside him, cross-legged. Then the cat man began chanting softly in Nahuatl. "Spirits of my ancestors, help this one leave his body and take him where he wishes to go."

The squirrel lay there motionless, eyes closed, furry chest slowly rising and falling. Then, as Jaguarundi and Katrina watched, a ghostly version of him rose up from his body and floated above it.

"Supersonic?" Katrina asked wonderingly, reaching out a hand to touch the see-through squirrel. Her fingers passed through him without sensation.

Supersonic's spirit form grinned at her. "Hi, Kat." Then he looked down at his body lying on the ground beneath him. "Holy cow, this is weird!"

"You must not delay," Jaguarundi urged him. "Every second you are out of your body, it grows weaker."

"Right," said Supersonic. "See you later!" And like a gray arrow, he shot away into the darkening gloom to the east.

Morph and Bainbridge sat in their hotel room, awaiting the presidential summons, the former squirming and sweating while the latter sat quiet and composed. Morph took out a cigarette and was about to light it when Bainbridge smacked it out of his hand. "Senator Lakehurst doesn't smoke!" the bald man said, scowling.

"Maybe he started!" Morph snapped back.

"Just shut up and do as you're told," said Bainbridge coldly.

Morph sat in his chair and sulked as Bainbridge glared at him, repulsed by the shapeshifter's weakness. It would be a relief to be rid of him when this was over.

Bainbridge's thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of his cell phone. He took it out and looked to see who was calling. It was Draconis. "Is it done?" Bainbridge asked.

"There has been a complication," said Draconis.

Bainbridge sighed and rubbed his brow. "What sort of complication?"

"Jaguarundi showed up."

"Jaguarundi?" asked Bainbridge, sitting up straight.

"Yes, he prevented us from carrying out the executions."

"So Supersonic and Werner are still alive?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"What about your backup?"

"Supersonic killed Kidd and beat Morton unconscious. I deactivated their cell phones, according to procedure."

Bainbridge looked surprised. "Supersonic killed Kidd? I didn't think he had it in him."

"Apparently, he does. On the plus side, Kidd shot Werner. I do not think she will live."

"We can't depend on that. Go back and kill them all."

"By myself?"

Bainbridge smirked. "Surely the great Alexander Dracoulides can handle one hero. Or perhaps you'd like to explain to the Supreme Serpent how you fouled up your part of the operation."

"I did not foul up!" Draconis shouted angrily. "Nobody could have anticipated Jaguarundi becoming involved!"

"Yes, I'm sure the Supreme Serpent will understand. He's a very forgiving man."

Draconis made a disgusted sound and hung up.

Bainbridge put his phone away and glanced over at Morph, who said, "Doesn't sound like things are going too well."

"A minor setback," Bainbridge replied. "Draconis is one of VIPER's most powerful agents. He'll deal with Jaguarundi. You just make sure you hold up your end."

Morph looked at the suitcase he was to carry to his meeting with the president. "Don't worry about me. I know what to do." He got up, went into the bathroom, and checked his face in the mirror. His disguise was still holding. Morph sighed and shook his head, wondering why he'd ever agreed to this. Of course, he knew the reason. He was weak, and broke, and desperate. That was why VIPER had chosen him instead of some other shapeshifting villain: because they knew he'd be easy to control. And they were right. Ever since his release from Stronghold, he'd been on a downward spiral into nothingness. But perhaps, if he impressed VIPER, he could earn a place in their organization. Then he'd once again be respected and feared.

Bainbridge glanced over at Morph, and his lips pressed together into a cold smile. He looked forward to personally eliminating the shapeshifter once he'd served his purpose.

The lights of Mexico City flashed past beneath Supersonic Squirrel as he flew through the gathering dusk far faster than he ever could have in his material body. Ahead, he saw the hotel where the news report had said the president would be staying, the Sofitel Mexico City Reforma, a beautiful forty-story steel-and-glass tower looming over the Angel of Independence monument. Unfortunately, he had no idea which of the hotel's 275 rooms the president was in. He decided his best bet was to try to find a Secret Service agent and explain what was going on. He dove through the side of the hotel and began searching.

"How long will it take him to get there?" asked Katrina, looking down at Supersonic's inert body anxiously.

"Astral travel is instantaneous," Jaguarundi replied. "He can go anywhere on Earth in the blink of an eye. However, finding something you do not know the location of is another matter."

"Can't you ask the spirits?" asked Katrina.

"They do not work like a GPS," said Jaguarundi. "Their guidance takes the form of visions, not exact coordinates."

"They were exact enough to bring you here," Katrina pointed out.

Jaguarundi nodded. "This is an easy place to find. There is nothing around it for miles. In a crowded, complex city, it is more difficult."

Katrina knelt down beside Supersonic, laying an ear against his furry chest as it rose and fell. "His heartbeat is slowing," she said, biting her lip.

"It will continue to do so until his spirit returns," said Jaguarundi. "Without a spirit occupying it, his body is running down, like a watchspring unwinding."

Katrina looked up at the cat man. "Can't you heal him, like you did me?"

Jaguarundi shook his head. "That is not within my power."

Katrina gazed down at the squirrel and caressed his cheek gently. "Thanks again for that," she said.

"You should thank Director Sanchez," said Jaguarundi. "It was she who enlisted my aid."

"I'll have to remember to do that," said Katrina. "So, are you always a cat?"

"No, I am usually human. Jaguarundi is a form I can take using this totem." He tapped the wooden cat-headed pendant around his neck.

"Neat trick," said Katrina. "Where'd you get that?"

"It was a gift," said Jaguarundi. Then his ears pricked up. "My jeep is approaching. It must be Draconis coming back to finish the job. Quick, take Supersonic into the garage!"

Katrina picked up the squirrel's body, slung it over her shoulder, and headed inside the garage as Jaguarundi prepared himself. A moment later, the jeep burst through the dry brush to the east, heading directly toward the cat man with nobody driving. Jaguarundi erected a shimmering magical barrier before him, and the jeep crashed into it, front end crumpling. At the same moment, Draconis leaped out from behind a rock to the south and fired a force bolt from his hands, striking Jaguarundi in his right side and sending him flying across the ground. The cat man rolled to his feet and whirled to face the VIPER agent, growling.

"I see you are not a tactician, Jaguarundi," said Draconis, looking pleased with himself. "If you were, you might have realized that the jeep was merely a diversion. However, the noise from its engine did effectively mask the sound of my approach from your feline senses."

"Yes, I know all about your love of tactics, Draconis," said Jaguarundi. "You are a deluded fanatic who imagines himself the reincarnation of Alexander the Great. You belong in an institution, along with all those phony Napoleons."

Draconis snarled, his eyes glowing. "And you belong in a zoo, along with that damned squirrel!"

He fired another force bolt at Jaguarundi, but the cat man was ready this time, erecting a mystic shield that blocked the attack. Then Jaguarundi charged at Draconis, loping across the ground on all fours toward him at terrific speed. As he lunged, claws outstretched, a field of force exploded outward from Draconis, hurling Jaguarundi backward. True to form, the cat man somersaulted in midair, landing on his feet, his tail lashing behind him.

"You cannot lay a claw on me if I do not wish it, Jaguarundi!" Draconis crowed triumphantly.

"I do not need to, madman," Jaguarundi replied. He seized the wrecked jeep with both hands, lifted it over his head, and hurled it at Draconis.

Draconis's force field exploded outward again as the jeep struck it, reducing the damaged vehicle to shrapnel. Then he looked around in surprise. Jaguarundi was nowhere to be seen. "Where have you gone, coward?" Draconis demanded angrily. There was no reply from the still desert night. "Very well, then, perhaps killing Supersonic and the girl will smoke you out." He began walking toward the garage.

A plasma beam from a VIPER energy pistol struck Draconis in mid-stride, staggering him, and Katrina ducked back behind the wall of the garage. "You know, I don't particularly appreciate being referred to as 'the girl,' Alex," she said.

"My apologies, Miss Werner," replied Draconis, whose force field had blocked most of the beam. "Do you prefer that, or Katrina?" He fired a force bolt, blowing a hole through the cinder-block wall a few feet from where Katrina was sheltering and causing her to stifle a yelp of surprise.

"Katrina's fine," she said, edging further from the hole Draconis had just made. "So, you really think you're Alexander the Great? Man, VIPER is a loony bin!"

"Says someone who sleeps with a squirrel," said Draconis. "Though I must say, your antiestablishment mindset places you more in our camp than in his."

Katrina laughed. "You did not just try the old 'We are not so different, you and I' bit on me, did you? Talk about your villain clichés! Anyway, I don't see how having you psychos in charge would be an improvement."

"We could not do much worse," said Draconis.

"Oh, I'm sure you could. I have faith in you."

Katrina spun out from beside a glassless window and fired a plasma beam through it at Draconis, whose force field mostly absorbed it. He retaliated with a force bolt that blew apart the wall beside her, forcing her to dive aside. At the same moment, Jaguarundi rose up out of the ground behind Draconis as a ghostly wraith. He solidified and wrapped a powerful arm around the VIPER agent's neck, holding him fast.

"You were saying something about the importance of diversions?" Jaguarundi commented, as Draconis struggled in his grasp. Katrina jumped up and fired beam after beam from her energy pistol at the VIPER agent, hitting him again and again, until he finally groaned and went limp.

"Asshole!" Katrina hissed, glaring at him.

Jaguarundi nodded, releasing Draconis's unconscious body to slump at his feet. "Indeed!"

Supersonic Squirrel zipped through the hallways of the enormous hotel, his intangible spirit form passing through walls, floors, and ceilings, startling guests and staff as he frantically searched for someone connected with the president's security detail. At last, he saw a woman with an earpiece standing motionless in one of the hallways. She had to be a Secret Service agent. He flew toward her, but then stopped, convulsing and grasping his head as it was suddenly flooded with ear-splitting electronic sludge worse than any of that awful experimental music Katrina had tried to get him to listen to. The agent saw him and drew a pistol from her jacket with her right hand while touching her earpiece with her left, speaking into the audio pickup, but Supersonic couldn't make out what she was saying over that hideous cacophonous drone. He yelled at her that Senator Lakehurst was going to kill the president, but she either couldn't hear him or wasn't listening, instead aiming her gun at him and saying something he also couldn't hear. Supersonic shook his head and dove through the floor, trying to escape that aural onslaught.

After descending a few floors, the noise ceased, and Supersonic paused in an unoccupied room, trying to figure out what had just happened. The agent couldn't have been hearing what he'd been hearing. Nobody could retain their composure for long with that horrible noise ringing in their ears, no matter how disciplined they were. And she'd been speaking into her mike, so she must have been able to hear and be heard over it. Then realization struck him. His spirit form had no physical organs of speech or hearing, so it must be able to communicate psychically, the way Katrina did. That sound he'd heard must have been the psychic static produced by a Porgrave broadcaster! There had to be one somewhere in the hotel if the president was here, to prevent telepathic eavesdropping, and it had certainly sounded as unpleasant as Katrina had described one to him.

Supersonic decided his only chance was to go to the front desk and try to get hold of someone in authority. He dove downward, passing through floor after floor.

Morph started violently at the sound of a knock on the door of the hotel room. Bainbridge calmly rose from his seat and went to answer it. It was a Secret Service agent. "The president will see you now, Senator," the man said. "I've also been instructed to inform you that Supersonic Squirrel has been sighted in the building."

Morph gasped, and his eyes went wide. "Supersonic is here?" He looked frantically over at Bainbridge, who was scowling angrily.

The agent grinned. "Don't worry, Senator. We have weapons designed to handle supers." Then his grin faded. "Unless you'd prefer to postpone your meeting with the president?"

Morph hesitated, looking flustered, and Bainbridge stepped in. "The senator has complete confidence in the Secret Service's ability to deal with that furry traitor," the bald man said, smiling. "The meeting will proceed as planned." He glanced at Morph, who simply nodded.

"Then if you gentlemen will please come with me?" the agent asked, gesturing toward the hallway.

Morph swallowed and rose from his chair, holding his briefcase with both hands, and went with the agent. Bainbridge followed, his brow furrowed in consternation. Clearly, Draconis had failed, Bainbridge thought. But how had Supersonic managed to get from the garage to Mexico City in just a few minutes without his powers? The only possible explanation was that Jaguarundi had managed to transport him here, somehow. VIPER knew very little about Jaguarundi's powers, only that they were magical in nature, which meant that he might be capable of virtually anything. Of course, VIPER had mages of its own, though they preferred to keep a low profile. He just had to hope that the Secret Service could live up to the agent's boast. And if it couldn't . . . He reached inside his jacket and touched the energy pistol hidden there.

Supersonic emerged through the ceiling of the main lobby. Immediately, people began pointing at him and yelling. He ignored them, flying toward the front desk.

"Please!" he said to the terrified hotel clerk. "I need to talk to whoever is in charge of the president's security! There's going to be an assassination attempt!" The clerk just backed away from the transparent squirrel floating before him, quivering in fear.

"Freeze, Supersonic!" came a voice from behind him. Supersonic whirled to face the speaker. It was a thin, swarthy-skinned man wearing glasses and a brown suit. He was holding a pistol, aimed directly at the squirrel.

"Agent Abruzzi?" asked Supersonic, staring at the man. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here because of that little murder you committed in Guadalajara," Abruzzi replied. Then he blinked as he realized he could see through the squirrel's body. "Why do you look like a ghost?"

"This is my spirit form," Supersonic explained.

"Spirit form?" Abruzzi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, but never mind that. The president is in danger! Senator Lakehurst is an assassin working for VIPER!"

"That's not how he tells it," said Abruzzi. "According to him, you're the VIPER assassin."

"You know that's not true!" said Supersonic. "You know how thoroughly PRIMUS screens its applicants. You used to be their Justice Department liason!"

Abruzzi nodded. "Yes, I was, until you got me replaced."

"That was Director Sanchez's decision, not mine," said Supersonic. "And it wasn't me who told her you bugged Kat's apartment, it was Nightmunk. But none of that matters right now!" The squirrel looked at the agent desperately. "Agent Abruzzi, I know we've had our differences, but have you ever known me to lie?"

"No," Abruzzi admitted, "but your girlfriend is a psi, and I've long suspected her of being a VIPER agent. How do I know she's not mentally controlling you?"

Supersonic spread his arms. "Then what am I doing here? What would VIPER have to gain by me warning you about an attempt on the president's life?"

Abruzzi lowered his gun. "Not a thing. It wouldn't make any sense at all."

Supersonic sighed with relief, then hugged himself as he felt his body's heartbeat getting slower and slower. Time was running out, both for him and the president. "Please, Agent Abruzzi, you've got to stop Lakehurst!"

Abruzzi nodded, took out his cell phone, and made a call. "Jacobs? This is Abruzzi. Alert your people to detain Senator Lakehurst. Yes, you heard me right. I'll take full responsibility. What?" He looked at Supersonic. "Lakehurst just entered the president's suite!"

Supersonic's eyes went wide. "What room is it?"

Abruzzi repeated the question to Jacobs. "Suite 3529," he replied.

Supersonic shot upward through the ceiling and was gone.

Morph held out his hand to the president, who shook it and politely refrained from commenting on how sweaty it was. They both sat down at the table, facing each other. Morph laid his briefcase on its side on the table, one end pointed at the president. This was it. Press one button, and history was made. He reached toward the handle.

Suddenly, Supersonic Squirrel rose up through the floor beside them. The squirrel was grimacing, as if in pain, but his huge black eyes glared at Morph accusingly. Morph gasped, and recoiled as he realized that he could see through the squirrel's body. "What . . . what are you?" he demanded. "Some kind of ghost?"

Supersonic just flew toward him, arms outstretched. Morph seized the briefcase, aimed it at the squirrel, and pushed the button. A force bolt erupted through the side of the case, passing harmlessly through the squirrel's ephemeral body and blasting a hole in the wall of the suite.

A second later, the door flew open and three Secret Service agents burst into the suite, guns drawn. Morph threw down the briefcase and held up his hands. "Don't shoot!" he cried. "I surrender!"

Behind the agents, Bainbridge charged in, drew his pistol, and aimed it at the president. "Hail VIPER!" he shouted, and fired, just as one of the agents whirled, knocking the gun aside with his arm. The shot went wild, and the other two agents tackled the bald man, wrestling him to the floor.

Supersonic floated in the air, then turned to the president, who was watching the scene in astonishment. He could feel his body's heartbeat slowing to a crawl. He had to get back before it stopped altogether. He threw the chief executive a salute, then dove through the wall, flashing back through the desert night and plunging into his body where it lay on the floor of the garage with Katrina and Jaguarundi kneeling beside it.

Supersonic's eyes snapped open and he gasped for breath, his oxygen-starved lungs filling with air. Katrina grabbed him and pulled him close, pressing her face against his neck and sobbing and shaking with relief. "Oh, thank God you're back!" she said.

"I'm okay," said Supersonic weakly, smiling up at her. "And so is the president."

Katrina stroked his head. "I don't care about him. Only you." She pressed her lips to his fuzzy mouth and kissed him deeply, and Supersonic put his arms around her and held her tight.

The scarlet sun was slowly sinking into the vastness of the Pacific beneath a tangerine sky streaked with purple clouds, the boats, docks, and buildings on the waterfront of Puerto Vallarta glowing crimson on one side while their opposing sides were in shadow. Katrina Werner descended a flight of wooden steps leading down to the docks, hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, her face rosy in the dying light, and began walking along a pier.

She found him perched on the bowsprit of a sailboat as it gently bumped against the pier, his knees drawn up against his chest, his back against a halyard, a bottle of Dos Equis in one hand, and his huge black eyes gazing out across the harbor.

"Hey, boyfriend," said Katrina. "Enjoying the sunset?"

Supersonic nodded without looking at her. "It's really beautiful," he said, and took a swig from his bottle.

"You left your cell in the hotel room," said Katrina. "It's been buzzing all day."

"I wanted some privacy," the squirrel replied.

"I figured as much," said Katrina. "Sanchez gave me a message to deliver. She said that how long the rest of your vacation lasts is up to you. Come back whenever you feel like it."

Supersonic nodded and took another swig.

"Also, the president announced he intends to award you the Medal of Freedom for foiling the attempt on his life. I'm supposed to get some sort of special commendation, or something. He'd give one to Jaguarundi, too, only nobody seems to know who he is." She looked at the squirrel intently. "You okay?"

Supersonic sighed. "You remember when I said Director Sanchez knows me well enough to know I'm not a killer?"

Katrina nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, that's not true anymore."

She shrugged. "You always knew that could happen. You're a cop, and sometimes cops have to kill people. It comes with the job."

"And on top of everything, it was a woman."

Katrina frowned. "She was a terrorist, Supersonic. Being a woman didn't entitle her to any special treatment."

"I understand that," Supersonic replied. "But you know where I come from."

Katrina smiled. "I know. It's one of the things I like about you. You're so old-fashioned. But seriously, you did what you had to. It was you or her, and I'm glad it was her. Besides, she shot me, so I'm sure as hell not gonna lose any sleep over it."

The squirrel shook his head. "In the cartoons, nobody ever died. I mean, the threat was there, but the worst that ever actually happened was they just ended up looking silly."

"In the cartoons, nobody ever had sex, either," Katrina pointed out. "Or drank beer."

Supersonic looked at his bottle. "Yeah, I guess there are some benefits to being real." He knocked back the last of his beer.

"Well, for what it's worth, I think being with you has made me a better person," said Katrina.

Supersonic looked at her. "It has?"

She nodded. "A little bit, anyway. I didn't really care that much about anyone before I met you. And watching you learn about the world, seeing things through your eyes, makes me feel good."

The squirrel grinned and flew down off the bowsprit, spreading his arm webs, and landed on the pier before her. "Being with you makes me feel good, too, Kat. Thanks for being my guide."

Katrina smiled and shrugged. "You're quite welcome. So, you hungry?"

Supersonic nodded. "Yeah, let's get something to eat!"

"Good," Katrina said. "I heard there's a place here that makes great empanadas."

The squirrel tilted his head. "What's an empanada?"

"It's a pastry shell stuffed with meat and vegetables," said Katrina.

"So, like a pasty," said Supersonic.

"Like that, but spicier."

"So, like a stromboli."

"Yeah, except not rolled."

"So, like a calzone."

"But without the cheese."
"So, like a pot pie."

The conversation continued along these general lines as they walked along the dock together while the sun sank below the horizon.