Nefarious Good
was of no use for directly protecting Miss Yellow. He was wearing healing talismans, however, and hoped they would save him should he be shot. “Miss Yellow,” he handed her his dagger. Nefarious drew the short sword from its scabbard worn on his back. Like all his swords, its blade was single-edged and with a long, outward-curving grip. This blade was straight and pointed. Nefarious nudged the robed woman between crates, telling her, “Await my return.” She nodded.
Nefarious Good stepped out into the open. The encroaching humans hesitated, wondering what he was doing. “Step aside!” barked the gruff voice of a Delver. The human guards obeyed the command. Spark Prime came forward. As he fixed a spike bayonet to his shotgun, he told the Mystic, “Nefarious Good, I am honored to be the one to kill you.”
The rich, melodious voice of the Mystic responded, “Mr. Spark, pardon me but I must deny you such an honor.” The stout, robust Delver rumbled a chuckle… then charged!
Nefarious outstretched his right hand. Thunderous blasts of glowing, deadly sparks washed over him! The Delver kept shooting but his intent was to skewer the Mystic with the spike bayonet! Nefarious lunged and gave Spark Prime a swinging kick to the helmed head! The armored Delver veered into crates and stumbled. Nefarious leapt to kick him again but raised his right hand as the shotgun raised to meet him. The blast of the weapon flung the Mystic swordsman back! Spark Prime lunged, his bayonet thrusting at Nefarious Good! The Mystic whirled aside and gave the Delver a smart kick in the back. Spark Prime again stumbled into crates. “Even our finest blades cannot penetrate the plates of Delver armor,” Nefarious Good remembered the voice of his instructor, “but the armor is nothing without the flesh and blood underneath. The true strength of the armor is the weakness thereof. Our enemy must see and breathe if he is to assail us. His warm blood must be allowed to release its heat if he is to fight.” The Mystic swordsman plunged his blade into the snarling mouth of the fully armored Delver gunmen! Spark Prime thrashed and gargled, coughing up orange blood! Nefarious Good shoved and twisted the blade, pressing him back.
The Delver staggered back but did not fall. Spark Prime thrashed about, still trying to fight! A blast of his shotgun ricocheted off the floor, knocking the Mystic off balance! The Delver swung his bayonet but the weapon was a spike, not a blade: it brushed harmlessly across the Mystic’s leather armor.
Nefarious Good plucked his sword out of Spark Prime’s mouth then plunged it into his throat! The Delver smacked at the blade. Not wanting his sword to break, the Mystic plucked it out. Spark Prime raised his shotgun, orange blood running down his breastplate. Nefarious Good jumped and gave him a swinging kick to the head! Spark Prime teetered. The Mystic again stabbed him in the mouth and twisted the blade! The heavily armed Delver mercenary dropped his high-powered shotgun. His stout, fully armored form dropped to its knees… and collapsed!
The mouths of the human guards gaped… until one of them shouted, “Kill him!” Human carbines and shotguns rose. The Mystic swordsman lunged!
Gertrude Yellow remained hidden between crates, trembling as she listened to the battle. She could barely hear the grunts and groans over the booming blasts, the sharp tapping of rapid-fire and the pinging of ricochets. How long could Mr. Good keep defying these odds? What if he fell? Gertrude tried not to think about it. She worried when everything went silent. “Miss Yellow,” she smiled hearing the strong, dulcet voice of Nefarious Good. He returned to her, telling her, “Come. We must make haste.” The woman nodded and followed the towering swordsman out of the warehouse.
Mr. Virtue and Lord Clang were with Simon Fink in his limousine being rushed to his fortified, heavily guarded mansion. The human was touching the communicator worn in his left ear, telling his security chief, “I don’t care about the bitch clone! Kill the damn lefty before you lose sight of him!”
Malicious frowned, “His name is Nefarious Good.”
“Yeah, I know. That bastard killed Sparky! I loved Sparky!”
“I warned you of Mr. Good’s exceptional prowess.”
“He’s a Mystic! Sparky made a name for himself killing you people!”
Malicious reminded, “Spark Prime made a name slaying humans as well.”
“Yeah, I know. Why do you think I hired him?” Simon muttered, as if reminiscing aloud, “The cuddly little big boy even let me hug him.” Malicious Virtue arched an eyebrow.
The long sword of Nefarious Good had a slightly curved, single-edged blade with an outward-curving grip. He wore it on his right hip, but not now. The weapon punched through the soft body armor of a human guardsman, wetting itself with his red blood! Nefarious plucked the blade out and swung it across the throat of another! More guards converged upon the lean, towering swordsman! The gunmen blazed away. The Mystic stepped and whirled, swiped and jabbed. Humans bled and dropped! Gertrude watched from between two parked trucks as her rescuer slaughtered his assailants with such swift, nimble, ferocious grace! No wonder the Virgin Soldiers of her own military were no match for him!
Dead men littered the ground at Nefarious Good’s feet. The other human guardsmen fell back, still shooting but from too far away to be much of a threat. The Mystic fled from them. They hesitated to pursue. “Come!” Nefarious urged Gertrude onward.
The jeep with a machinegun mounted in the back sped into view. Nefarious and Gertrude ducked behind barrels and hurried their way behind the cover of crates and parked vehicles. The thumping hum of a helicopter sounded and the shadow of the aircraft passed over them! Trucks screeched to a halt and men could be heard dismounting.
Humans were weak, slow and their senses dull. The Concubines of the Seen Unseen were human clones. Trying to bring Gertrude Yellow along was proving dangerously hindering… but Nefarious Good would not forsake her. He had come for her and he would not depart without her. Contract or not, he could not leave her to the whims of this heinous enemy. Nefarious Good smirked, embarrassed at suddenly realizing that Miss Amity may have been right about him. His mind returned to the mission and he pondered what he should do.
Simon Fink was on the balcony of his mansion, leaning on the balustrade with a glass of brandy in one hand. His other hand touched the communicator in his left ear. He asked, “Joe, what’s the situation?”
“Sir, with all due respect, I’m busy. I’ll notify you when I have a chance.”
“Yeah, you do that.” Simon turned around and told Malicious Virtue and Lord Clang, “My boys are handling it just fine.”
Malicious Virtue could hear the tremble in the voice of Simon Fink. He watched the quivering hand as it raised the drink to the feigned smile. The Mystic realized, “You wonder if Nefarious Good shall find you and kill you. He may, but I believe he would only do so to avenge his client.”
Simon understood, “So if my boys kill her, they’d better make damn sure they kill him too.”
“You must kill them both, my friend, lest they bear witness to what we are trading.” Simon nodded… then gulped the entirety of the brandy. Malicious mentioned, “My guild has people specialized in ridding us of problems.”
“Assassins.”
“I did not say that.”
“Don’t worry, Malicious. We’re all friends here.”
Malicious Virtue raised an eyebrow. He confided, “They have been tracking Mr. Good for days. Sometimes they find him. I need only issue the command and they shall slay him.”
Simon Fink snickered, “Are you sure about that? Even Sparky couldn’t kill him.”
“Spark Prime was a proud fool who wanted to fight warrior-to-warrior. My people do not bother with such nonsense. There shall be no fight. Nefarious Good shall be unceremoniously murdered.”
“Why didn’t you make this happen days ago?”
“I hoped to minimize my involvement.”
“Yeah,” the human smirked. “You didn’t want to be blamed for the death of your people’s war hero.”
Mr. Virtue nodded,
adding, “Nefarious Good is a licensed arbiter. He has already filed a formal complaint against my guild. It is unseemly that my own people should kill him. Alas, it has come to this. I shall do what must be done.”
“Yeah, you do that.”
The jeep, helicopter and throngs of guardsmen… disappeared. All had become eerily quiet. Miss Yellow pointed at a fence, telling Nefarious Good, “Your sword can cut through and we can escape! Your talisman will protect us if there are any landmines on the other side.”
Mr. Good corrected, “My talisman protects only me. It is my power of warding that would shield you from landmines.”
“Your power of warding is when you raise your right hand?”
“Miss Yellow, all is deathly quiet. I believe a danger greater than landmines is upon us.” The little human embraced the towering Mystic from behind. He gently pulled and nudged her away, telling her, “I am their first target. Keep your distance that you shall not fall to what is meant for me.”
The woman nodded, telling the Mystic, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
“Miss Yellow, my concern is for your safety. I am not offended. Follow me but at a distance.” The fence seemed so much closer until Nefarious decided to move towards it. He looked about, watching and waiting, knowing something was wrong but not knowing what to do about