Lewis walked into the meeting room where several other members of his kind had summoned him. He only knew one of them, Jonathan Wessner, who didn't like him too terribly much. They always got into arguments about who trained the best assassins, and who had a better kill rate. Lewis always lost; his ex-lieutenant Tom Daniels and his colleagues at Whitney University continually thwarted his elaborate schemes.

"Good evening, Lewis" Wessner hissed in a succinct tone. "How was your day?"

"Almost got that goddamn Ed Tate, but he slipped out of my grasp again. Now I know why my ex-colleague Tom Daniels hates him so much."

"Speaking of the illustrious Mr. Daniels, when are you ever going to come after him?"

"God knows I've tried. I've sent assassins to the labs, to that damn Dr. Parker's place where he hangs out, and even his favorite coffeehouse, but all that happens is that I lose operatives. Shit."

"Why don't you send people after the others, like Dr. Tate, Dr. Parker, or Attwood?"

"Well, Attwood has no social life, so I don't know where to find him, and Tate is always hanging with Dr. Parker who is hanging with Tom so that wouldn't work. Besides, if I took out Parker or Tate, there would be hell to pay."

"Why?"

"Because if they were killed, Tom would come after me. As much as I denigrate him, I know he can kick my ass."

"But you said earlier that Tom hated Dr. Tate. Why would he avenge that S.O.B's death?"

"Because, excluding him, Dr. Tate is Dr. Parker's best friend. It would hurt her immensely, and he would come after me."

"Why don't you then take out Tom first?"

"Because that bastard killed 5 operatives already. Kids these days, even after I train them, they're still incompetent jackasses."

"Well, because of you're seeming incompetence in killing those lab rats and your traitorous subordinate, we've decided to relieve you of leadership of the clan."

"What the hell? You can't do that!"

"Yes we can. We here represent the leaders of clans all over the United States. If our clans united against yours, it would be a bloodbath we would win. Besides, we also could kill you now. Why don't we just do that?"

"You little sons-of-bitches! It was a trap!"

"Yes" Wessner said, smiling evilly. "Get him, boys."

Six assassins appeared from nowhere, using tactics probably learned from the others about masking their presence from his extrasensory abilities. Each had a full-auto Uzi pistol.

"Time for last rites. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to mourn the death of Mr. Lewis, who isn't quite dead yet, but we'll kill him sometime soon. He was an illustrious bastard, responsible for over 100 killings. We hope he burns in hell, but that's not relevant. Now, dearly beloved, kill him."

Lewis ducked under the stream of gunfire, and broke the neck of the nearest assassin, catching three bullets in the shoulder. The bulletproof vest caught two of them, but one rammed through, imbedding itself in the shoulder blade. He screamed, snatching the gun of the now-dead assassin and cutting down several others. Then, he opened up on the other clan leaders, but they were scattering, and he only took down one.

"Time to die, Lewis" a hulking assassin in heavy SWAT body armor stepped out of the darkness. With a precise shot, he shot the gun of Lewis' hand, twisting the muzzle irreparably. Then, he tossed the gun aside and threw a punch at Lewis.

In his weakened state, Lewis was unable to resist. His head snapped back, blood spraying from his nose. The assassin kicked him in the groin, doubling him over. Then, while Lewis was down, he began viciously kicking him. Lewis could sense that several of his ribs were broken, but he made one last lunge.

Dashing out from the large assassin's frenzied blows, he grabbed the gun and shot the man in the back, punching through his heart. Lewis gasped, pocketing the gun. Blood still trickled from his nose, several ribs were broken, and he suspected he had a hairline fracture in his arm. Outside it was storming. Lewis made his way outside, and staggered off into the night.

"Damn it" Ed snapped. "We still can't get James to respond to the DNA treatments."

"He's psychotic," Tom said. "Permanently."

"Oh shut up. You're being too negative."

James hissed from inside his cage, snapping at Ed's probing fingers. "Now James" Ed said calmly. "That wasn't very nice. Then be a good boy and let Mr. Ed insert these needles. I'll give you a banana if you don't bite."

"Mr. Ed" Tom said sarcastically. "How cute."

The others in the lab, Drs. Sloan Parker and Walter Attwood, chuckled. "I should pair you together more often," Attwood said.

Tom started laughing. Ed scowled. "Shut up, you jackass."

"Ed, be nice to Walter, okay?" Sloan said, trying to salvage the situation as she always did whenever Tom and Ed got into any of their little tiffs. "Why don't you just pump that monkey full of the DNA serum and we can have lunch or something?"

"How are we going to get anywhere in this weather" Tom said. "Swim?"

"Perhaps" Sloan said. "It's been storming nonstop for a week. Sewers are backing up, flooding has been reported in the San Joaquin valley, and its been causing cases of depression, but the crime rate's down. People don't want to go to crackhouses or mug someone in this weather."

"Agreed" Ed said.

Something began banging on one of the doors that led out of the Bioanthropology Lab out into the rainy world beyond. Bump…bump…bump; the tattoo was steady against the door. It was too dark to really see any detail, but it appeared to be whitish streaked with red.

Tom drew his pistol. "Stay back, and if I don't come back, call Security." Tom stalked away toward the door. Then, opening it, he dashed out into the storm, shutting the door before rain could ruin the sensitive computer equipment. There were signs of a struggle outside, and then Tom walked in, dragging a straggly-appearing man behind him.

Even in his bedraggled state, he was recognizable.

"What the hell?" Ed gasped.

"Oh my God" Sloan said, stunned.

"How the hell did that bastard get out of jail?" Attwood asked incredulously.

It was Lewis, in bad condition.

"What shall we do with him?" Tom asked. "We could kill him, you know. He'd kill us at the first opportunity."

"Aren't we supposed to be better then him and his kind?" Sloan asked.

"Yes" Tom said grudgingly. "But we have to do something, and from your resolve on that matter, killing him is out. But what can we do, he's still dangerous?"

"How about we toss him in the storage closet and lock the door?" Ed suggested helpfully.

"With all the guns and weapons and dangerous items in there, are you insane?" Tom asked.

"Oh shut up."

Lewis contributed to the conversation for the first time since his untimely arrival. "Factions…will kill you all…you want to stop them...you need my help."

"Ah shit. We can't kill him, he knows something we need to know" Attwood said.

"What?" Sloan asked.

"Well, I've heard that the new species really isn't as unified as you would think. The multiple units we call clans often compete with each other, and gunfights between members of rival clans are not uncommon. If Lewis is correct, a new, more violent clan is coming to power in Los Angeles. If that is true, that clan and remnants of Lewis' clan that join them will coming gunning after us, and then we'll probably be killed."

"How true" Lewis rasped. "How true."

"Shut up you bastard" Tom said. "Just because we aren't going to kill you now doesn't mean we're not going to kill you later."

"We will reign" Lewis hissed. "In the Kingdom of Man."

Something clicked in Tom's mind. He felt an overwhelming urge to obey Lewis. He fought it with all he could, but it was futile.

Tom jerked, eyes turning blank, seemingly barely aware of his surroundings.

"Oh, shit" Ed said.

"Not again" Sloan gasped.

"Damn it!" Attwood yelled. "What won't you do to save your ass?"

"Kill Sloan" Lewis ordered.

Tom moved forward raising his gun.

"Turn-off. Un-reset."

Tom returned to a conscious state, aware he was pointing a gun at Sloan.

Lewis chuckled. "Isn't it so easy to scare you people?"

"Lewis" Tom growled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I've come to warn you."

"About what?"

"Get me something warm to wear and something to eat and I'll tell you. It concerns us, all, me and you; our kind and our somewhat obsolete ancestors."

"Oh shut up," Attwood said. "Why should we do anything for you? You already told us what the problem was, anyway."

"Because if I die, then you won't learn who leads the clans, where they make their habitation, and how to root them out until it is too late. You barely know the nature of the problem, thanks to me."

"The little piece of shit is right" Tom hissed grudgingly.

"We will reign…," Lewis said evilly.

"Oh shut up."

"Fine" Attwood said in his authoritative manner. "Get something warm from a campus restaurant for our unwelcome guest. Then, we'll see how much we can dig from him."

"I don't like your attitude" Lewis said, smiling.

"Oh shut the hell up," Ed said.

"Why am I suddenly the object your indignation all of a sudden? Can't we all just get along?"

"Why do you have it in your head that our kind and the rest of the humans cannot coexist?" Tom asked angrily. "If we truly are superior, then our genes will eventually take over the species."

"Too long. Too much time. Some dictatorial bastard will take over and try to exterminate us."

"Perhaps. Why do you want to kill the others then? You'd be just as bad."

"I want to make it so natural selection occurs, like it should. Humans are obsolete. They are the past; we are the future."

"Oh don't bother me."

"We will reign in the Kingdom of Man."

Tom went zombie-like, eyes glassy and body stiff.

"Turn-off. Reset." Sloan said, glaring at the assassin leader.

"Damn you people. You're too smart."

A courier appeared, carrying a bowl of hot soup. Then, he vanished.

Lewis devoured it quickly. Then, with his trademark theatrical flourish, he began his tale.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages! Its time for! A flourish of trumpets! ! The Greatest Story Ever Told! ! A flourish of trumpets!"

"Your arrogance sickens me" Ed growled. "Start talking."

So Lewis began his tale of death, destruction and betrayal.

A fax came in, late on a dark night, summoning him to an abandoned warehouse in South Central. Lewis had much better things to do, such as plotting the death of his traitorous subordinate Tom Daniels and his apparent love-interest, Dr. Sloan Parker. But this was quite important, from leaders of other clans. Thus, he made his way through the dark dismal streets to the abandoned warehouse.

"Good evening, Mr. Lewis. Glad you could come." It was Jonathan Wessner, his arch-rival in the business of assassinations. He and other clan leaders had gathered. "Have you taken care of Mr. Daniels yet?"

"No. I lose more assassins going after him then I lost before we were discovered. He's too damn smart."

"You're incompetent, Lewis."

"Wessner, shut your trap before I tear it off."

"I may not have enough allies among the clans to take you down, but just wait. One slip-up, and you're going down. Down, down, down.

"Oh fuck you" Lewis growled. "Is the only reason you brought me here is to listen to your drivel?"

"Yes. You may go, but watch your back."

Lewis closed with this parting shot. "You'd better sleep with both eyes open, Wessner. You may be getting a visitor soon."

Two weeks passed. He had very little luck in defeating his enemies in Whitney University. It was becoming an obsession. He got another call, this time on the phone. It was Wessner, bothering to call him in person.

"You're needed again, in the abandoned office building near the 'border' of South Central."

Lewis walked there in the pouring rain. The others were waiting. He walked in, and saw his enemy Wessner and several others waiting for him. Some pointless conversation went back and forth, and then six assassins attacked. Lewis killed them, but was beaten half to death by a larger one. Lewis killed him, and staggered through the pouring rain, making his way to the fortress of his enemies. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all, even if they're my enemy was well.

"So, what else do you need to know?" Lewis asked.

"You said that you knew where they made their habitation" Ed said. "Why don't you tell us."

"I don't know much about some of the clans, but Wessner and his allies hang in South Central. Ask any of the damned punks and they'll talk about nasty white supermen who kill and kill and kill the brothers. Their main headquarters is abandoned office building I was betrayed at."

"So what do you suggest, Lewis?"

"Tell Dr. Attwood to have heavy bombers blast that building to tiny pieces. I know he has high connections in the government of the United States."

"What if Wessner and his allies aren't there? What if they're out hunting you?"

"Then I shall go hunting for them. Once I am well again, I will destroy them."

"What are you going to do for us?" Tom asked.

"Provide you with information, names, dossiers, intelligence. The locations of clan headquarters-s all over the United States and Canada. Information."

"Satisfactory" Attwood said. "Begin the plan."

Wessner stalked down the street in South Central, heading toward his headquarters in the abandoned office. How strange that there would be so many abandoned buildings in a place where there are so many homeless. Another such flaw in the humans' genomes. They don't exploit ready opportunities.

Suddenly, a fighter aircraft screamed like a banshee overhead. The top floor of his office exploded, raining sharp glass down on everyone. Then other parts of the building exploded, raining shattered glass everywhere. Wessner had taken cover in a nearby building, and watched people scream and die under the beautiful rain of death. The only thing left of the building was the lobby, in ruins.

Damn that Lewis! He'd have a little talk with some of his assassins; it seemed Lewis escaped and was helping the United States government. Opening his cellular phone, he put in a few calls.

He and the others met in the abandoned warehouse they had first convened at. "Lewis has escaped, and he's helping those at Whitney University fight us."

"I had no idea that bastard would stoop so low" Frederick Exner, the clan leader of San Diego hissed. "Just two days ago, he was hell-bent on destroying each and every one of them."

"What shall we do?" the leader of the San Francisco clan asked. He was old, and the others respected his wisdom. But now he had no answer.

"Perhaps we can unite to hunt down my ex-colleague. All of our assassins can easily defeat Tom, Lewis, and their pitiful friends" Wessner said, reddish hair falling over his forehead.

"How do you propose this?" Exner asked.

"Operation Wages of Treason."

Sloan was riding her bicycle to work when she heard the bowling of engines. She looked around to see five assassins; Lewis' cohort Julia was the only one she recognized. Most of them carried Uzis; Julia had a menacing-looking automatic shotgun. As they saw Sloan, Julia lowered her gun and began shooting.

A car window next to Sloan exploded, showing the area with glass. Sloan spun around and began pedaling like mad toward Whitney University. One assassin, a redneck-looking individual began spraying the area with ammunition from his Uzi, killing two bystanders. One pedestrian whipped out a Magnum and shot an assassin in the head, and was rewarded with a few dozen shotgun pellets shot through his head.

Sloan drove through the gate of Whitney University, the four surviving killers on her tail. As they passed by the guardhouse, they left the guard with his brain splattered all over the building. The new species killers began catching up, driving Sloan in the direction they wanted.

Which, unfortunately for her was a blind alley, a dead end. As they drew up to block the exit, Sloan climbed off her bike. She didn't exactly know why, but the hindbrain was in control at the moment. She drew back her arm, then noticed the pistol that Tom had given her in her pocket.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Parker" Julia said sarcastically. "We're going to kill you. Then we're going to kill Ed, Walter, Ray, Lewis and Tom. Ah yes, Tom. We're going to kill him slowly and painfully. We'd make you watch, but then it would be inconvenient. Any last words?"

"Go to hell" Sloan said, yanking out the pistol and shooting Julia through the throat. Julia left this world in a spray of blood, and that was the distraction Sloan needed. Still firing her pistol, she killed the other three in quickly succession. Then, she nimbly scrambled over their fallen motorcycles to the Genetics Lab.

"Jeez Sloan, what happened" Ed asked, commenting on her rumpled appearance.

"The other clan leaders" Tom said coldly. "They've come. One of Lewis' lieutenants, Julia, was among them. We need to fortify ourselves. Sloan, the pistol fires .35 caliber bullets. They're in the storeroom."

"What pistol?" Ed asked Tom after Sloan had dashed off.

When Sloan entered the storeroom, she immediately ran into Lewis, who looked like he was preparing for Armageddon.

"It is customary to say 'excuse me' when you almost knock somebody down, Ms. Parker" Lewis said. "Now the time to kill is coming."

"Holy crap" Tom said. "I didn't know they had that in the storeroom."

Lewis was carrying a G11 German assault rifle, complete with a massive ammo belt of caseless ammunition. To complement his monstrous gun, he carried a grenade launcher and a belt of 60 HE (high-explosive) grenades in his other hand and was wearing heavy body armor.

"Be prepared," he said.

Sloan scrambled out of the storage closet a moment later, carrying a much small assortment of ammunition, a few more clips for her pistol and a couple grenades. "Ditto" she said.

In his helicopter, Wessner and fifteen of his assassins hovered over the Whitney University. Thank the non-existent God Wessner thought, that the humans were so complacent. One by one, his cronies began to jump, landing on the buildings in perfect formation.

Something crashed through the Genetics Lab skylight. Lewis opened fire with his massive assault rifle, pulping the man. Another assassin crashed through the window, gun blazing. He destroyed one of the computers, blasting it to chunks that could only be put back together by the Japanese. Sloan shot the other assassin in the head, killing him.

A wall exploded, and a bazooka-wielding assassin thundered in. Tom drew his sidearm, destroying his rocket just as it left the tube. The resulting explosion cremated the assassin and two others.

A helicopter landed, and Lewis fired a grenade at it, destroying it. But not before Wessner leaped out, shooting Attwood in the chest. Attwood staggered back, firing his pistol at the assassin. He dodged, blowing out a surge protector with his pistol.

Lewis began randomly firing his G11, killing two of the other assassins. Bullets whizzed by, centimeters from his head, but it didn't faze him the least. Another assassin appeared, one without any regard for his own well being. He began detonating grenades left and right, destroying huge sections of the Genetics Lab. James the monkey was turned into a heap of monkey fur and dust by a grenade. Lewis fired a grenade into the assassin's chest, painting the surrounding area cadmium red.

"Die, die, die, die!" Tom roared over the blaze of combat, killing an assassin at point-blank range.

Suddenly, everything went quiet. No one moved. No one fired a gun. Except for Tom, Lewis, Sloan, Ed, the badly wounded Attwood, and the heaps of dead bodies, the lab seemed deserted. Everything was silent.

Tom and Lewis began searching for the others telepathically. Nothing, no one and then, up above…

An assassin dropped down, wielding a huge boot knife. Not very good for him, because Lewis blew his chest through a wall in seconds. Suddenly, an assassin popped from behind a computer, throwing a smoke bomb. It exploded, filling the room with smoke. When it cleared, Ed and Sloan were gone, leaving only Tom, Lewis, and the wounded Attwood.

Suddenly, Wessner appeared. "Why don't we play a little game? I leave clues to where I might be hiding Mr. Ed and Ms. Parker, and you follow them and try to find us. Now wouldn't that be one fun little game?"

Then, tossing a note to them, he disappeared into the wreckage.

"Damn him" Lewis growled.

"Ditto" Tom said.

The note read:Where an enemy met an enemy turned friend then lover. Find the next clue.

Lewis began to think. Tom had a bright idea.

"Sloan's apartment."

"Oh so now you admit it."

"Sorry to deflate your fantasies, Lewis but Sloan and I are not having an affair."

"Damn."

They proceeded to Sloan's apartment, to find the door kicked in and a large poster hung on the wall, next to the sofa. It said 'World Premiere of the Acclaimed Film The Homo Phage'. Underneath the words it said Man Killer.

"Oh" Lewis said. "For a brief moment I thought it was about the Southern Baptists."

"Very funny."

"The movie premieres at the Los Angeles Chinese Theater. You know, the one with all the hand and footprints in the concrete" Lewis declared.

Thus, moving at a very fast clip, they arrived at the Chinese Theater, to see a man disappear into the sewers.

"What a slowass" Lewis commented, and then they dove into the sewer.

Using their telepathic abilities, they tracked the man to a drainage basin, and the bridge built over it. From their perch above it, they could see Tom, Ed, Wessner and four others.

"Well, well, well" they heard Wessner say. "Since your boyfriend and the old man haven't come to save you, I suppose we should shove you in. The sewage is highly toxic you know."

"Not a chance in hell, Wessner" Tom said and leaped down onto the bridge.

"Tom Daniels. Always the emotional one" Lewis commented before making a safer way down to the bridge.

Having the element of surprise, Tom killed the others, and stood facing Wessner on the bridge.

"Why what surprise! Mr. Daniels shows up to save Ms. Parker and his chief romantic rival."

Ed began shouting, but Wessner silenced him with a poisonous look. "Why don't we settle this the old-fashioned way" he smiled, tossing his gun into the sewage. "Hand to hand combat."

Tom tossed his gun into the mire, and then Wessner drew a hidden one and shot him in the chest. "You little idiot. You honestly thought I was going to fight fair." Daniels was still alive, so Wessner began to kick him.

"He did, you little cocksucker" Lewis declared forcefully, shooting the gun out of Wessner's hand. Then, he tossed his gun into the slime below. "It's time we settled this the old-fashioned way."

With a leap that was astounding for a man of his age, Lewis kicked Wessner over. Wessner's hand shot out, punching Lewis in the groin. Lewis doubled over, and Wessner kicked him in the head.

Lewis appeared to be knocked out, so Wessner turned to Tom, blood trickling from the wound in his chest as he tried to reach for a crowbar. Wessner kicked it out of the way just as he reached it, and kicked him in the head. "Don't even try it, pretty boy." He pulled back his leg for another kick and…

Lewis grabbed it, yanking him down. Wessner punched him, but it had no effect. Lewis began striking him again and again and again, bloodying his nose and blacking his eyes. Then, he prepared to shove Wessner over the edge into the pit 50 feet below them.

Just as he pushed, Wessner grabbed on, and they both tumbled into the mire. It bubbled briefly, and then lay still.

"I have a suggestion," Ed said. "Why don't we vacate the premises?"

They left, dragging the wounded Tom with them.

Two days later, Sloan was visiting Tom in the hospital. It turned out that Tom's wound was worse then it seemed, and it required surgery. Tom was now just resting and thinking up ways to pay for the expensive operation.

"Good afternoon, Sloan" he said weakly.

"Good afternoon yourself" she replied.

"What happens next?" he asked.

"Wessner's and Lewis' bodies were not found. Attwood is in intensive care right now, but they think he'll pull through. They're repairing the lab right now, but it won't be open for two months. What do you think we would all do between now and then?"

"How about dinner at that pizza place tomorrow night?" Tom asked hopefully.

Sloan smiled. "Perhaps."

Then, she bent over and kissed him. Then, looking at her watch, she left.

Tom smiled. Perhaps things were getting better after all.

Something was in the Greater LA Storm Drain. Something alive. It pulled itself along, covered in sludge and dripping wet. It tumbled into the stream of running water to cleanse itself.

It was Lewis. After falling into the mire, he had drowned Wessner and slipped out of sight. Knowing the United States government, he figured they would turn against him. The clan, from what he had heard about Julia's death, the clan was dividing among the others.

Still he would have his revenge. He swore it.