“This must be important if they’ve got Tobias here,” laughed Dylan. Tobias looked back at him with a deadpan expression and flicked a middle finger back.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that here, Tobias,” reprimanded Ulrika Dahlberg, the Woodland Warrior’s Caretaker. “Or at all, actually.”

Brad had come back from a G7 mission in China a while ago, and The Collective were summoned for an emergency meeting based on the findings that had been worked out as a result of the trip. Sat in the conference room was everyone, including The Rodeos, fourteen year old Tobias Torres a.k.a Boy Beaver and Ulrika from the Woodland Warriors.

The Secretary walked in a few minutes later with Brad following just behind. They both looked quite grave and serious.

“Thanks for coming everyone,” The Secretary said. “You’ve all read the docket on the background info, explaining the back ground info on the Council of the Universes’ agreement and Brad’s G7 mission in China a while ago,” The group nodded in confirmation. “We have an unforeseen development that we need to bring to your attention though.” She paused to take a breath.

This sounded serious and Dylan couldn’t work out why. Are we going to war? Are there more beings from outer space on our planet than we were aware of? Dylan had so many questions going through his head in that moment.

The Secretary took a deep breath, whilst Brad kept looking down at the floor in front of him. “It would appear that Anton Akgul, who some of you may know as the late Red Cardinal, is still alive and now under the alias of Guy Phoenix.” The Secretary allowed the group their reactions.

“Excuse me? He’s not actually dead?” Terri called out. “How is that even possible?”

There were grumblings and murmurings from the group in confusion and shock. Dylan looked over at Tobias who had gone silent and a bit pale. “Bud, are you ok?” he whispered.

“I just… I just don’t believe it. We were at his funeral.”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have a clue who the Red Carnival is,” Blane chipped in awkwardly.

“Cardinal. Red Cardinal,” corrected Dylan. “If I may? He grew up with Brad and was one of The Collective. One of us. He was the leader of the Woodland Warriors for a long time with Tobias here, before re-joining The Enhanced Beings Collective. There was... a job, and he disappeared, presumed dead when it all went south.”

“So you didn't confirm a death at the time?” Do’Lânqwa asked.

“No,” explained The Secretary. “We couldn't. But we had what we thought was conclusive proof.”

2027. Los Angeles.

“Are we all ready in our places?” Proten asked over the communicator.

“I’m perched up high at South LA and East Third waiting for the convoy to roll,” came back the response from The Red Cardinal.

“We’re ready at PDHQ. Leaving in zero two minutes,” Terri responded.

“Copied. I’m in place on West Washington at the top of South Hill waiting for you. How is our High Value?” Proten replied.

“She’s anxious but ready to go,” said Terri.

“Ok.” Proten looked at Flip. “How are you doing buddy? Nervous?”

“A little, yeah. I’ve only been with The Collective for two months and I’m already on this high profile mission... It’s crazy!”

“Yeah, but just be cool, ok? You straight with what’s happening? I know this was a bit last minute for you.”

“Yeah. So we’re helping with transporting Wi Hyo-Jin to the Superior Courthouse to testify in a murder trial against a member of The Mambas.”

“Correct, well remembered. I do feel sorry for her. She’s the only witness willing to do what she's doing and the DA doesn’t want anything to get in the way of that happening.”

“Which is why Terri is going with her and R-C is going to fly along the route?”

“Yup. And we will rinse and repeat to get her home safe after.”

“We’re on the move,” Terri stated.

“I see you,” replied The Red Cardinal.

The flying, masked Red Cardinal pushed off from the roof ledge he had been stood on. Circling, he could see the six strong motorcade tear down South Los Angeles Street. It was a pretty straight and direct route but there were a lot of intersections as other roads fed into the main thoroughfare, posing potential problems.

“Crossing Fourth… Clear.” The convoy pressed on at speed, and The Red Cardinal confirmed safe passage for Fifth, Sixth and Seventh streets, and beyond.

As they continued to pass under the I10, The Red Cardinal swooped down sharply to fly closer to the ground and to follow the convoys as they tore under it. When he reached the other end, he aimed back upwards, gaining the altitude needed to get a good aerial view of the route.

As the convoy turned on South Hill for the short distance to the Court House, the flying man came into land in the middle of the road. Proten and Flip ran and joined him.

“Good job all round getting her here,” Proten said.

“Yeah, but I’m more worried about getting her out,” the red bird man said.

“Why? By then she’s already testified. What trouble is she worth by then?” Flip asked.

“See,” The Cardinal started, “The Mambas know their members are done for here. But by hitting her on the way out, they get revenge and send a message to anyone who decides they’ll do what Wi Hyo-Jin is doing today.” Flip frowned, concerned. “Don’t worry. This is the shit we live for.”

“Wi Hyo-Jin is in the dock,” Terri chipped in over the airwaves.

“This is Network, I’m monitoring signals and I’m not picking anything unusual up at the moment.”

“Thank you, keep us updated,” The Red Cardinal said before taking off into the skies.

***

The part that Wi Hyo-Jin had to play went on for roughly ninety minutes. Outside in the street, Proten and Flip stood maintaining a presence whilst The Red Cardinal took occasional laps of flight around the blocks.

“We’re moving out in zero two minutes,” Terri advised.

“Then we’ll move into position,” Proten replied, nodding at Flip. For this return leg, the two had their own vehicle for escorting the convoy to the airport.

The cars rolled out of the Court Room and towards the first intersection of West Adams Boulevard. Just as they got to the lights, an explosion from beneath the middle of the intersection erupted, creating a huge hole in the road, sending asphalt up into the air and raining down onto the buildings and cars.

The convoy screeched to a halt as a dozen dark figures leapt out of the hole.

“Frick! Convoy’s been compromised!” called out The Red Cardinal, swooping down. Another explosion went off behind the convoy, again from below ground.

Proten and Flip bailed out of their car and charged towards the Mambas who had now made it to the surface.

Dressed in black suits, The Mambas were a lethal organised gang of artificially enhanced criminals, and as expected, they were out for revenge. The Red Cardinal came in, his wings folding down to engage in close quarter combat with a trio of Mambas.

Flip flipped and danced around a wrecked car, side kicking into a Mamba.

Proten reached out ten metres to shove back one Mamba and with the other hand, he grabbed at a leg of another, flipping him over.

“Network! This wasn’t expected!” Proten called out, audibly annoyed.

“Well if they had CCTV in the sewers, I’d have given you a heads up,” came back the snappy response.

“Terri! Watch out! You’ve got five Mambas coming for your truck!” The Red Cardinal shouted.

Terri responded by sending towers of earth up through the road but they jumped away, dodging them.

“You’re not going to get them that way, remember? They have seismic detection. They'll feel it,” The Cardinal reminded.

“Have we got a way of getting her out? They just keep coming!” Terri asked, punching a Mamba in the face. “Red, can you get her out of here?” she asked, as she fended off another couple of Mambas.

“Sure, give me a moment!” he puffed back.

The Red Cardinal grappled with a Mamba who had him in a tight hold from behind. Their arms were squeezing tight across his ribs and neck, holding close and holding firm. One of the many things a Mamba was enhanced to be able to do was to squeeze the life out of their foes. The Cardinal’s attempts to use his free hands to attack back against the constricting arms were useless.

He was stuck.

***

“Er, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’re going to have to tell us newer people who The Mambas are,” Holt said. “I’m doing my best here but I don’t know of them, do I?”

“No, you’ve not come across them yet. They’re mostly dormant lately, we only hear of them occasionally,” The Secretary explained.

“Ohhhh! They were-“ started Do’Lânqwa, remembering his conversation with The Secretary whilst on Earthsle.

“Yes,” she said, cutting him off quickly, not wanting that memory brought up in these circumstances. “Brad, can you explain who they are while I step out for a moment?” The Secretary requested, getting up and leaving.

“Ma’am. Ok so they’re an organised crime cult-come-mafia of enhanced people which requires members to be injected with a cocktail of their venom, DNA and some other shit that give them a whole host of snake like enhancements. They have these tough impenetrable scales on their forearms and wrists, and across their upper chest,” Brad said. "They're pretty gnarly."

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

“Yeah, and Terri hates them because they have the ability to detect movements underground, so she cant even throw them in the air with them knowing it’s coming,” Dylan added.

“Yes- I think you’ve already told them that part of the story,” she said dryly.

“So they’re deadly snake people?” Kimona asked, shuddering at the thought.

“Pretty much,” Dylan confirmed. “Creepy a-holes who don’t say anything as well. Silent snakey people. We hate them. Purists hate them. They hate us and they hate Purists. It's a proper hate triangle going on between us.”

“And do they bite people? To poison them?” asked Mindy.

“No no. That would be next level of creepiness. No, they just jab people with a dose of something either one hundred per cent lethal, if they want to kill them. Or a weaker dose of what they give new members. Enough to alter them and scar them for life but not enough to be like them. What you get is a flip of a coin,” Dylan replied.

“And is this what happened with The Red Caramel?” Blane asked.

“Cardinal. It’s Cardinal,” Dylan corrected again, rolling his eyes and with less patience in his voice. “And we’re not sure. We thought maybe that might have been the case.”

***

The Red Cardinal continued to try and wriggle out of the Mamba’s hold.

“Red! Can you get her out of here?” Terri asked again, not able to see what The Cardinal was actually up against.

“Guh… Uh… No. No. I caaaaan’t right… now!” he grunted back. The squeeze got tighter but a shift in movement got The Red Cardinal’s anxiety rising more. An injector. No… No way! He couldn’t let this happen.

He knew all too well what was in that injector. He’d heard what it could do to people, depending on what one they gave you. How poisonous, how lethal it could be. Or how life changing the other was. He did not want to go out this way. This wasn't his plan. And that was if it was the killer one, and not their Mamba conversion toxin. He didn’t want that either. He had his son to think about. He had to survive for him.

He took off, soaring off vertically into the sky, taking the Mamba with him, still in a tight hold, which was beginning to loosen to a degree due to being airborne.

The Mamba fumbled for purchase, trying to stick Red with the toxin again. A sharp scratch caught The Red Cardinal under his left collar bone.

A cold feeling spread from where he'd be jabbed.

It was in his system.

Through fear, and an instinct for survival, Red pushed his arms free, forcing the Mamba to lose his hold and plummet from their height in the sky. Red pulled out the protruding injector.

Whatever he had been stuck with had ninety per cent left. But it could still be enough to cause him serious harm.

He looked around him and back down at the streets below. Numb. Despite all the anxiety he had felt in the lead up to this moment, it all seemed to have left his body. Up here in the clouds he felt nothing.

“Red Cardinal, come in!” he heard Proten shout as his head started to clear and his focus sharpen.

“Red! Say something! Where are you?” Terri attempted.

A spasm of pain struck The Cardinal’s chest, burrowed deep within his ribcage. It came so quickly and suddenly. Was this going to turn him into a Mamba? He couldn’t stand that for his family, or for him. Or for The Collective.

“Anton!” yelled Proten dropping the use of his alias out of frustration. The pain grew, and Anton’s skin started to itch. He tore his cape off and helmet, letting them follow The Mamba down to the ground.

Last to fall, was his communicator.

If he was going to turn into a Mamba, he didn’t want anyone to know about it.

***

“So the last we saw or heard of him was when he flew up with a Mamba wrapped around him,” said Dylan.

“And his cape and helmet were found later that day near his broken communicator,” explained The Secretary who had come back in. She really hated The Mambas. “We had him declared missing and then later certified dead.”

“And three years later he’s in China meeting with Du Zan in the months prior to an illegal space mission?” Blane put it bluntly. “Do we know why yet?”

“No, unfortunately, but I sure as hell will find out,” Brad seethed. “We’ve got the CIA and MI6 working hard on this.”

“And I’ve got a meeting with Sir Ron Palmers soon,” Dylan said hopefully. “Du Zan paid for a hit on him a few months ago, killing his family and nearly killing him. They’re in the the same industry so he might have ears on the ground.”

“And in the mean time?” Kimona asked.

“Stay vigilant. Remember his face. Wait until we know more and how much of a risk he poses,” The Secretary admitted.

“Excuse me Ma’am,” Tobias said, speaking up. “But the fact that he's still alive poses us a risk regardless, right? He fakes his death and is involved in all this shady shit-”

“Tobias!” Ulrika hissed.

“-in China,” he said, ignoring her interruption. “He’s a threat. And we need to do more to get him.”

“I think they know what they’re doing Tobias,” Ulrika said sternly, looking over her glasses at the boy.

Tobias looked away and continued. “He led the Warriors for a time and his death broke our hearts. We mourned him and all along he had done this. The prick is going to wish he was dead after we find him!”

“Enough Tobias!” Ulrika demanded more so this time.

“It’s alright,” The Secretary said, calming everyone down. “Duly noted, Tobias. Whilst it is concerning, there is a chance he's been brainwashed or controlled. So we just wanted you to all know in case he got in touch, or appeared again. You needed to know because unfortunately, we know so little. I’ll be in touch if we hear anything else.”

“Can we go then?” Reuben asked, irritated. “I didn’t really like the bird man when he was alive. I like him even less now that he’s really not dead.”

The Secretary sighed. “Yes. Yes, you can go. All of you.”

***

A month later.

Dylan stood as Sir Ron Palmers entered the office.

“Dylan, it’s so lovely to see you again,” the posh British tycoon said, taking his hand.

“Sir, the pleasure is all mine. How are you holding up? I am really sorry again for your losses.”

“Oh, well thank you. Some days are better than others. I’m just doing my best to keep going.” He did his best to put a brave smile on as he gently sat down in an armchair. He gestured for Dylan to do the same. “How’s Kimona doing?”

“She’s good. Back in Miami now and feeling better about it.”

“Excellent. Would you like a drink?”

“Just a water please.” Sir Ron indicated to his staff member to go and get him one.

“Well thank you for coming. I just wanted to talk about what happened in China.”

“I’ll do my best. I wasn’t there, and The Secretary might know more than she’s told us. I could get her in touch with you?”

“That’s thoughtful, but not yet. I wanted to make contact with you first, at least because I trust you and it’s all still quite fresh still. From a business perspective, the debacle in China was great for our stocks. Public and industry faith in my company went up, but I’m also relieved for global security that it was a success. You know, what with ‘life’ existing out there, our plans to create affordable space travel for humans was in jeopardy for a while, but this has allowed us as a company to help write the rules and set the parameters for the packages we can offer, and how we and any other company, would have to operate within in the future. So it’s put us in a good position.”

“Well without the information you gave to MI6, the G7 wouldn’t have been able to do their thing,” Dylan said.

“Ah, so you know about that?”

“The Secretary slipped me a quiet word before I came here and wanted to make sure I passed on her thanks. I’m clearly very trustworthy with information!” Dylan laughed.

“Quite!” Ron agreed, chuckling. “I think you’d be amazed at what we can actually find out here. Some of our tech is years ahead of what intelligence agencies are using.”

“So could you find out anything about Guy Phoenix?”

“Yeah. We found out he is working for The Purists and Du Zan to acquire Enhanceds for testing and evidently, for sending to the other earths. As gifts or weapons, but I sure have my own opinions on that matter. I'm just glad they managed to blow that launch site up, I really am. Anyway, back to Guy. Regular upbringing in Nevada College, then career with Private Security firms before affiliating with The Purists. Obviously, a load of old tosh because he’s Anton Akgul, right? Your former Red Cardinal?”

“Yessir,” Dylan said nodding, impressed. No one except for the US Government knew who was under The Red Cardinal mask. His identity was secret and he had been one of few who insisted on his anonymity whilst working for The Enhanced Beings Collective.

“See, I told you. Better than the intelligence agencies.”

“So we know nothing more than an impressive false life story?”

“Correct. But there’s something else I need you to know Dylan.”

“Go on Sir.”

“Something’s coming. Something big. There's nothing yet to suggest what yet or when or where from, but it’s out there.”

Dylan shifted and chuckled uneasily. “Can’t your fancy systems not be a bit more precise?”

Sir Ron sat forward and raised an eyebrow. “It's good Dylan, but it’s not a crystal ball.”