> Archer Hunt > by Spanner > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Steve! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Archer Hunt By: Spanner Inspired and suggested by Danger Beans An Archer & Friendship is Magic Crossover Fancy Pants and Fleur De Lis were having a grand time sipping tea in the west garden of their Canterlot estate. They sat upon a small mass of Saddle Arabian cushions beside a intricate short wooden table from Neighpon. There were crumpets, fruit tarts, and an array of imported cheeses that were truly delightful. All of this was of course in the middle of their third largest greenhouse of exotic flowers and exquisite shrubbery. They were discussing an increase in security for the property, considering the changeling attacks, magic draining centaur, and the fact that Canterlot was right next to Ponyville, a town notorious for catastrophe. There were of course more obvious reasons concerning their line of work, but Fleur was not keen on her partner’s recent proposal. “Oh Fancy, we don’t need to change out the iron fence for a stone wall, and we certainly don’t need a moat. Although, a moat could look quite lovely, a mirror of ice in the winter, awash with leaves in the fall, we could even find a swan family to move in.” Fancy Pants was looking hopeful until Fleur chuckled, before replying with a stern, “No. We are not wasting money on more security measures. If I wasn’t your wife, I swear you would be broke and living in Ponyville. Besides, we would never hear the end of it form Madam Orchid.” None of the other nobles would ever speak so directly to him. That’s what he liked so much about her. She stood up to him, and best of all, she wasn’t a noble. It also helped that she was drop dead gorgeous. Fancy Pants polished his monocle. “Ah! But that underground bunker sure saved us when Tirek reared his ugly mug. I’m quite sure we were some of the only ponies left with magic. That is, before Princess Twilight and her friends saved the day once again.” The mare released a spurious groan. “It sure did, but the only reason you had that built was because you were adamant of a zompony attack.” As she laid further into the cushions she could hear his equally unconvincing mumbles of frustration. Fancy Pants fell back into thinking about Twilight Sparkle and the Elements. Would they be able to fight the zomponies? The zompony apocalypse could be right around the corner, and he would be ready! His monocle was back in place. “That bunch sure makes our job very difficult don’t they sweetheart? If the request hadn’t come straight from the very top, I might have refused.” “You sure have a soft spot for her don’t you?” asked Fleur. “Not as big of a soft spot as I have for you darling.” Fancy Pants nuzzled his wife properly, then bit her ear like some Manehattan scoundrel. Fleur melted in the attention. “Well, if you must worry, why not have Princess Celestia cast some protection spells on the estate? Better yet, ask Princess Twilight to do it. It’s about time she pays you and I back for all our work.” “The only one who I have ever met formally, has been Miss Rarity, The Element of Generosity, and the whole point is that The Elements never find out that we—” Fancy pants was interrupted by a deafening crash. A computer monitor came smashing through a panel of the greenhouse roof not ten feet away. The two stared at the strange box with shattered glass strewn in front of it. They didn’t have long to observe it before they had to hop out of the way of an office chair. Papers with alien writings came fluttering down all over the property, along with a myriad of random debris. Fleur gathered the cushions over their heads and the pair huddled underneath for protection from the rain of peculiar objects. Just when they thought it was over, one last surprise landed right on the pile they were hiding under. Nearly all the staff on the estate came running to assist their Master and Mistress. They all froze once they spied what was in the greenhouse, pinning Fancy and Fleur under the destroyed pile of priceless pillows. Location: Bermuda, Date: Redacted, Time: 21:35 A man in a black turtleneck fitted with a plethora of spy gear, slowly crawled his way through an air duct. He stopped at downward facing vent and angled a camera through the slats. Many figures dressed in white lab coats were milling about below, unaware of the spy above. One of the lab coats scratched his beard and brushed over his swept back brunette hair. “Steve, I think photon dilation is off. Run the numbers again,” he said as he passed the clipboard to another scientist. “For the last time Krieger, my name isn’t steve! It’s Brian!” His shouts were wasted, seeing as Krieger had already walked out of view and through a sliding door. A fellow worker patted Brian on the back. “There, there. To him, We’re all Steve. At least you remember your name. I’ve been going by Steve for as long as I can remember.” “Dude, your name is Carl.” Carl grabbed Brian by the shoulders. “Is it?! You don’t know!” “You have a name tag. It says Carl Jennings right there!” Brian exclaimed, while pointing at said tag. “Oh yeah.” “Would you two interns stop screwing around and help me move this electromagnet?” asked Kim Lee. She appeared to be a middle aged women with thick glasses. “Command wants results from this think tank this month or were all scrubbed. Krieger asked for another test run of this thing by tomorrow,” she said, indicating a device outside of the hidden camera’s view. Brian just watched Kim and Carl struggle to move the large magnet coil. “What’s the point? Krieger obviously has no idea what he’s doing. I literally saw him hook up a toaster to it yesterday. It’s no wonder ODIN doesn’t pay us more. This project is just to keep us from spilling sensitive intelligence. Why else would they send us to this forsaken island? They’ve threatened to cut us out four times already.” Kim set down the magnet and sighed. “I would almost agree, except yesterday I swore I saw a flicker in the cascade array—” Kim fell silent when the lights in the room went out. “Nobody panic. The backup lighting should kick in any time now. If there’s trouble, the guards should be able to handle it.” There were sounds of scuffling, and a squelching noise somewhere in the dark. The spy camera above turned to thermal imaging mode, lighting up the three scientists as blobby, rainbow shapes. The three were slowly shuffling around the room looking for a light source when a fourth shape literally slid into the camera’s view. Then a another thermal signature showed up as well. One of the scientists tripped over one of the shapes that were lying on the floor. “Brian, Carl, is that you laying on the floor?” Kim asked nervously. When the two assured her it wasn’t, she continued to feel around. “Then who?” She must have figured out she had bumped into a body, because she yelped and scuttled away like a crab. Kim backed into the second guard, shortly before running into a desk and knocking the wind out of herself. When the backup lighting finally kicked in, the camera picked up a tall blond man in a red track suit. He was just sitting on one of the desks watching the woman wheeze. His cocky grin made it clear he didn't care. Whoever was operating the camera quietly whispered, “What the hell?” The person hadn’t shown up on thermal imaging, though there had been a strange floating hot spot where the man was now. The newcomer waved at the science team with a bloodied hand. “Hey there friends. I hope the murder of your little door guards doesn’t ruin our relationship. I’m going to—” “You killed Steve!” Carl shouted. Brian was about to protest, but then he remembered the guard’s name was in fact, “Steve” something. He also still owed him fifty bucks from poker night. What an ass. Both Brian and Carl were lifted off the ground with the blond man’s hands firmly gripping their necks. “Barry doesn’t like being interrupted does he?” The back of the intruder lit up in gunfire and he was forced to drop the two interns. “No, other Barry. He really doesn’t.” The interns coughed and hacked on the floor as Barry charged off camera. He was yelling something about the cost of red track suits. The sound of machine guns and screaming briefly filled the camera’s audio. Barry returned a few agonizing moments later. A bullet to the face had exposed some of the metal below his eye. “Now, are you nerds going to be good friends and do what I ask, or am I gonna need to use your bodies for some anatomy experiments?” “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Archer yelled, as soon as the video footage stopped playing on the office monitor. He got up from his knees and lowered his fists. “Archer! What the hell?! You yelled right in my ear,” Lana nagged. “I know you have a weird fear of cyborgs, and knowing that Barry is still alive after you blew him up in a grain silo kinda freaks me out too. But do you have to YELL IN MY EAR?!” The man in his signature crisp tuxedo uncupped his ears. “Yes, Lana, I did have to yell. Did you see see how many guards he must have taken out single handedly? With his bare hands? That totally overshadows my “Terms of Enrampagement” movie.” “The stupid title doesn’t help...” Cyril quietly snarked to Ray. The man in the wheelchair chuckled. Any discomfort or shame on Archer’s behalf tends to brighten their day. Once again, the gang found themselves gathered in Malory’s office interrupting the mission briefing and being general ass hats to each other. Earlier that morning they had broken into the old ISIS headquarters to pilfer supplies for Archer’s new money making scheme. Krieger also happened to have parts in the lab to get Ray back on his feet again. Mallory calmly unlocked her office, only to release a horrified shriek and all shots from her .44 special at the sight of a stranger at her desk. After nearly blowing agent Holly’s head, Malory and the agent had a private chat. The first ten minutes of which was questions about how long Holly had been sitting in in the dark waiting, and how he knew they were coming? Holly found out the only reason he didn’t have one consecutive hole in his head was because Malory’s chair would have been ruined with a new coating of brain juice. The old hag had eventually called everyone else into the rug-stained room for a meeting, which brought them to the current predicament. Holly turned off the mission monitor where they had all watched Barry’s obviously more brutal rampage. “That was the last footage we received from our field agent at the facility. Holly brushed back his thinning brown hair. “And that’s why we need you guys for another mission.” Mallory cleared her throat for attention. “Alright everyone. The CIA is giving us—” “—another chance for redemption?” Archer laughed. ”They probably just want to get us killed and don’t expect us to succeed. Agent Halfway here must think we’re all idiots.” “It’s Agent Holly. And yes— Lana gasped dramatically. “Wait! The Archer, doesn’t want to go to some secret lab to fight Barry the cyborg? You don’t want to face off in some power machinery, spaceship with laser guns, or attack helicopter? I’m appalled.” Archer seemed to completely ignore her. “I know what your name is Holly. I don’t have the memory of a goldfish.” Archer scratched his chin. “Though, recent tests have shown that goldfish may have a better memory than we thought.” Pam stared thoughtfully to the side. “I’ll never look at those little guys the same.” Holly cleared his throat for the third time. “That is exactly what the CIA expects, and I do think you’re all idiots,” the balding man deadpanned. Cyrl looked confused. “Wait, the CIA wants us to think that goldfish do or don’t have good memories?” “The CIA doesn’t want you to know. That way they can convince everyone to buy a pet goldfish to spy on people in their homes. That’s why I bought all the fish in the pet stores near us and had them flushed down the toilet.” Everyone turned to see Cheryl laying on the couch eating paste again. “You can thank me later,” she said with a mouthful of adhesive. Mallory crushed another drinking glass in frustration. Luckily she had ordered boxes of imitation Steuben glasses for this very reason. “Would you all shut up so Agent Holly can get on with the briefing... where the hell is Krieger?!” “Last I saw him, he was crying in front of a shrine in his lab. Something about the Krieger clones that died at our mission to San Marcos,” Cyril answered with a distracted look. “He called it the ‘Shrine of The Clone Bone’ or something—” “I don’t care, I just want him in here! Why didn’t you tell him to get his ass in here for the meeting?!” Mallory gave Cyril her signature scowl. “Eh, we usually don’t need him,” Pam said dismissively. The group agreed he was only useful if you wanted to commit crimes against humanity, or make cyborgs, which could be argued as crimes against humanity. Moments later Krieger was finally in the room, while Pam sported some cuts and a black eye from another imitation Steuben glass to the face. Mallory was not taking anymore sas today. “Okay, is everyone done jerking around?” Holly asked the assembled team. Archer fake moaned while shaking his fist in front of his crotch. “Just a few more seconds... ah yeah, now I’m done.” The agent sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Your mission is to infiltrate Odin’s new secret lab, located deep in the Bermuda Triangle.” He held up a hand for silence. “Yes they have a secret research lab in the Bermuda Triangle.” “Our intelligence—” “CIA intelligence,” Archer whispered to Lana with a laugh. Holly continued over the interruption. “HAS REASON TO BELIEVE, that Odin is researching some sort of space time manipulation device. Apparently one of the Krieger clones from San Marcos survived and is aiding the research team in the construction of this project.” Lana broke out in hysterical laughter. “What... what a load of horse shit!” She wiped tears from her eyes. “I assume this was all an elaborate plan to delay us until a CIA hit squad could arrive? Are the stealth copters on the roof now?” Lana ducked away from view of the windows in case of snipers, only to find Archer laying down right next to her on the floor. “Why don’t you just kill us already? The CIA agent pulled up a schematic of the supposed secret lab, ignoring their antics. “Oh trust me. Me and the guys—” “The guys and I.” “Yes, Archer many of the guys and I, would love to paint our drapes in your blood and make a rug out of your flesh, but we need someone to back up Krieger while he infiltrates this facility, here.” He pointed to some sort of underground cavern on the northern side of the facility. “And that’s when you will need to replace the clone with your Krieger. He can then steal any research they have on the new device. Unfortunately you have been R.E.D listed and nobody at the agency wants to be near a seemingly invincible idiot that gets everyone around him killed through HIS STUPID, IDIOTIC, MONKEY MAN INCOMPETENCE, AND BLUNDERING DESTRUCTION OF EVERYTHING!” Archer walked up and patted the man on the back. “Feel better there Charlton Heston?” Archer frowned at the silence following his brilliant joke. “What nobody gets that? Heston yells in so many movies, and he called me a monkey man!” Holly sighed once again. “Yes I do feel better, Archer. Because you, Lana, gay-robo-blond, and all your crazy friends over there, are going far, far away, where you have a high chance of dying.” He turned back to the screen in Malory’s office. “Now, Cyril will be piloting the stealth sub and supervising Pam and glue for brains offshore. Lana, Archer, and Robo Gimp, will escort Krieger into the underwater sub entrance of the lab here. Any questions so far?” Archer’s hand shot up in the air like an energetic elementary student. The agent just scowled. “Any questions pertaining to the mission?” Cheryl’s and Pam’s hands went down, but Archer kept waving his hand around. “Ugh, yes, Archer?” “Why do we need three highly trained operatives to escort Krieger? Wouldn’t one of us be less likely to get detected? Come to think of it, why are we entering from the submarine entrance? That’s like the most obvious cliche in the book. We pop in there and four guards with harpoon guns will probably be pointing into the water. And before you stupidly ask why they would use harpoon guns, Cyril, any good agent knows that bullets don't penetrate water past three to five feet.” Everybody stared at Archer in shock. “I can’t believe you’re taking this seriously? What have you done with Archer?” Cyril said, grabbing ahold of Archer's shoulders. Cyril found himself in a painful arm lock in an instant, and Ray had a tear in his eye. Ray sniffled. “You, you actually called me a skilled agent. I thought you hated me and thought I was useless?” “Oh, I do hate you, but you aren't useless... when you’re not losing or breaking body parts like a gay one-eighth black Leper with evil robot implants.” Ray’s scowl returned. “To answer your surprisingly relevant questions, the research facility has some of the most heavily armed security personnel to date. If you get detected, it will be up to you three to finish the mission loud. This means you need to get the krieger's switched without any witnesses before extracting. If you can’t make the switch, you’ll have to fight your way to the mainframe and steal all the data you can. As for why risk taking the sub entrance? Surveillance data shows the Krieger clone has a habit of sitting on the catwalk over the sub entrance between the guard shifts for approximately three minutes, before rushing back off to the main lab.” Agent Holly paused. “Now do you all understand the plan?” “I still have one question,” Lana said, getting up from the floor. “I understand why you’re not asking for ODIN’s help, considering you were spying on them, and I get that you need Krieger for the operation, but what exactly do we get for brown nosing the CIA?” Holly steepled his fingers and smiled. “I’m glad you asked.” He pressed a button on his earpiece. “Team 4, would you show these folks their inspiration?” The windows shattered in a shower of glass and a neat hole showed up in the couch next to Cheryl’s head. Before anyone could react, Malory’s third drinking glass exploded in her hand. Unfortunately that had been part of a limited edition Copper Coast whisky decanter drinking glass set, costing almost three grand. “Alright, Agent Conway, that’s enough. I think they get the point,” Holly said, as he waved through the exploded window. “If you all agree, Conway and his sharpshooters don’t get to fulfill our decommissioning orders. You guys also get to carry on with your wretched lives. So what will it be? Please, say no.” It took no further convincing for each former agent to cooperate with the plan. On the bright side, Holly said they could keep whatever ISIS gear they wanted from the building, if they survived the mission. Holly noticed that Krieger was just staring catatonically at a wall and waved his hand in front of the mad scientist. “One of my brothers is alive! Oh, hello Holly.” Holly continued to explain the rest of the plan very slowly, as if Krieger wasn’t an unfocused, insane, sociopath. Once the meeting was over, everyone geared up for the long trip. Two days later, somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle... Lana climbed out of the underwater hatch of the CIA submarine. Her wetsuit quickly slicked most of the water from her body. She pulled the re-breather from her face and threw her oxygen tank to the deck. She was breathing hard and visibly limping on one leg. Mallory scowled harder than her usual at the burning, smoking island base. The damage was clearly visible on the stealth sub’s periscope. She turned to Lana and the remaining agents as they sloshed back into the submarine. “I want to hear exactly what happened? where’s Archer, and how did he screw up the mission this time?” “Actually, It was Krieger's fault, as in both of them, and Ray’s,” Lana said, giving her own stink eye to the former cripple. Archer actually had a pretty good handle on the mission until things got a little complicated...” Earlier... Three shapes in dark neoprene swam up between a pair of parked mini-subs. They poked their heads up below a series of boarding catwalks that were built above the sub entrance launch pool. The three agents bobbed almost silently in place, while three statue-like soldiers stood sentry above their position. Each were equipped with spear guns in hand and assault rifles on their backs, just as Archer had predicted. Luckily, their intel had actually been accurate, and the guards all filed out of the room with a clanking of boots across metal grating. This left the trio sneak up a ladder beside the pool and hide behind some metal barrels in the corner of the room. Just as Holly had said, Krieger’s identical clone came walking out to the catwalk not a moment later. Lana, Archer, and Ray broke cover and started sneaking towards the fake doctor when Archer hissed in surprise and pain. He reached up to his neck to grasp what he recognized as a tranquilizer dart. It was the very same tranquilizer they were assigned to take out the clone and other personal. Fast acting paralysis, followed by unconsciousness. The paralysis was indeed swift. Lana looked over as Archer seemingly collapsed for no reason. She was about to say something before she too yelped from a pinch in her shoulder. Ray had just enough time to figure out what was going on, before he turned to see their Krieger fire another dart right at his chest. Ray cursed as he went down too. Through some miracle, the clone hadn’t noticed the commotion behind him. The spy trio could only hear what happened next as their eyesight blurred. Whatever random part of the room they could see from the floor slowly faded to black. Only their sense of hearing remained and even that must have been failing, because they could hear, singing?.. “Will you help me hide these bodies?” Krieger sang softly to his clone brother. “C'mon we can’t delay!” The clone tensed his grip on the metal rail in front of him, but remained stoically facing away. Krieger continued his serenade. “No one can see them on the floor, get them out the door, before the guards say ‘hey.’” His melodic call remained unanswered. “I thought you were my buddy?” Krieger spread his arms and walked right up to his copy. “We won’t get caught, just help me and you know whyyy!” “Will you help me hide these bodies?” Krieger's double suddenly turned away from the pool and laced his fingers with his clone brother’s. “I will help you hide these bodies!” By this point, only Archer was still conscious. Be it through sheer will or years of exposure to alcohol and poison, it didn't matter. The “World’s Most Dangerous Spy” blacked out and missed what was surely a forgettable duet from an overrated movie. “Oh, brother. It’s been so long!” The genetic abominations cried into each other's shoulders before grabbing the nearest body and dragging them off. Archer woke up to a splitting headache and the sight of the strange arch shaped device. He recognized it as the same one that was in the CIA’s surveillance footage. He tried to move, but was not surprised to find that he was firmly tied to a chair with his arms bound behind him. The room was obviously the same lab in which Barry had been terrorizing the scientists. On the bright side, someone had dressed him in his mission suit. To his left he could see Lana and Ray tied up back to back. The two weren't having much luck escaping either. Even with Ray’s enhanced demon cyborg strength, he couldn’t break free without crushing Lana. Before Archer could think of his own escape plan, the last person he wanted to see stuck his psychotic face right in front of him. “Rise and shine buddy! It’s time for the fun to begin.” Barry turned to the back of the lab where the two Kriegers were supervising some consoles and directing the Odin scientists. “The thing is ready, right?” “It’s not called “the thing!” It’s called The Steve,” The two Krieger’s announced while waving their hands mystically through the air. “And yes, it’s all ready.” Barry face palmed and muttered something about having learned his lesson about 'killing your minions and getting stuck in space.' Other Barry wasn’t very patient about this sort of thing. “Fine, fire up Steve now,” Barry demanded. “You mean “The Steve.” “Yes, whatever. Fire it up!” “What’s the magic word—” The metal backing of Archer’s chair crumpled in the cyborg’s grip. “JUST DO IT, PLEASE, before I rip your beard off and stick it down your throat!” Barry ordered. The Kriegers started to press some buttons and pull some levers. “You make it so much less fun than it should be to rip holes in reality,” one clone said with a pout. The machine fired up with a low hum that seemed to resonate with the very air. “And what is so funny Archer?! Don’t laugh about your demise!” “Sorry, did you seriously just use the word demise? I just can’t take you seriously in that red tracksuit. You should really try a black turtleneck.” “You can never take anything seriously can you?” Barry’s question was met with a, “he never does,” from Ray and Lana. Barry cupped a fist with his other hand. “Right! You’re probably wondering what this machine does?” “No, not really. Krieger just said it rips holes in reality,” Archer remarked. Lana and Ray both agreed. Barry groaned in irritation, pinching his nose. “Well I bet you’re wondering why I took over this facility and why I haven’t killed all of you?” “I would actually—” Lana’s words were cut off by Archer’s childish shouts of “Me, pick me!” Archer didn’t wait for permission. “It obviously has something to do with this machine and us. I know Katya made you promise not to kill me, so that explains why I’m still alive.” Archer paused to scratch his chin, only to realise he was still tied to a chair. So he just jerked an arm feebly. “You plan on tossing me through that portal after making me watch Ray and Lana die? That way you wouldn’t technically be breaking your promise to Katya and wouldn’t be tempted to kill me anymore?” Barry smashed a desk into oblivion like some childish robot hulk. “Damnit Archer! How the hell did you figure that out? I thought you were the stupid one!” “He’s selectively insightful sometimes. Actually, Archer can be pretty great at this sort of thing.” Lana rolled her eyes. “I’m not great, I’m stupendous... and a little narcissistic,” Archer exclaimed. Agent Kane released a brief burst of laughter. Only because she was laughing at Barry’s misfortune and frustrated rage. It totally wasn’t because she remembered why she started dating Archer the first time, or the second, or the third... God she hated him so much! “Well congradu-fucking-lations! You ruined Barry’s surprise. I told you we shouldn’t have let them guess, Other Barry.” Barry sulked over to Archer, effortlessly lifting the man and chair. “At least it won’t stop me from getting rid of you.” “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong Barry,” Archer tisked. “You’re missing the real opportunity. We could totally have an epic battle in another dimension!” Barry started creepily playing with his fingers, itching with excitement. “But, assuming I can get back here after I win, Katya would never forgive me.” He pouted like a toddler denied a cookie. “After all this, did you really think she wasn’t going to get mad?” Archer raised his brow in question. “Now it’s just a matter of how much fun you can have before you get caught?” “Fine, I’m still killing Lana and the gay though.” Archer shook his head. “You wouldn’t kill Lana. Even after all the times she rejected you.” “Not helping Archer!” Lana snapped. “What do you care? Everyone at ISIS hates you. Sure you’re a huge asshole, but after viewing the intel the KGB has dug up on your coworkers, Katya and I kinda feel bad for you. For example, I know Katya was the one who kissed you on the roof that night, not you. And your friends were trying to get you caught cheating on video.” Archer was about to make a horrible joke, but Barry continued over him. “Lana and the others didn’t believe you did they? And don’t even get me started on your Mother.” Archer felt the ropes restraining him slacken and fall away. Before Archer could turn around, Barry grabbed Archer’s hands and held them behind his back. Barry leaned in close to whisper in Archer’s ear, the grip on his arms was nearly enough to dislocate both shoulders at once. “You do all this work to keep things together, and all you get is shot in the foot and chased by Odin or the CIA. So whaddya say buddy? You would be better off without them. They aren't even your friends.” “But Barry,” Archer wheezed. “You would be killing a fellow cyborg. You could train him. Together you could start the cyborg uprising and—” “God damnit, Archer! I’m not a bloody sith apprentice!” Ray whined. “Can you take anything seriously?! He’s going to kill us! Maybe Archer had been exposed to too much 'Frodo The Fat' from the tech department. “If you kill them, I won’t put up a fight. That would be pretty lame, and Katya would still kill you.” “Fine, I won’t kill them.” The mad mechanical man begrudgingly agreed. “Can we just go have our battle now?” “Actually, I need to adjust the family jewels and such. If you get my drift? So could you let one of my arms go?” “Really, Archer?” everyone groaned. “Unless you wanna reach in my pants and fix it for me? I like it to hang to the left by the way.” Barry let one of Archer’s arms go, considering he already had his Krieger frisk for Archer’s gun and underwear backup. Sterling promptly reached into his slicked pants. Barry was still averting his disgusted gaze as Archer reached over his shoulder and smacked the side of Barry’s neck. The cyborg collapsed to the floor, ridged as Archer’s morning wood. Archer walked over and released his fellow agents. The two looked at him with stunned surprise. Lana ended the silence first. “What the hell did you do to him?” “Why, you’re welcome for saving your life,” he replied sarcastically. “I stopped the control signals to his body with a frequency jammer, which you should be thanking Krieger for.” Lana’s eye started twitching so violently it might have murdered everyone in the room. “You mean you two had this planned the whole time and didn’t tell me?!” “Well, duh. Considering we were likely to face a mad cyborg and a small army, I asked Krieger if he could whip up something to take him out by surprise. Do you think I would ever get surprise attacked by Krieger? No offense, Krieger, you did good.” Lana had her hands on her hips as she got in Archer’s face. “And you couldn’t have told me about the surprise?” “I didn’t tell Robo-fairy over there, because he’s part cyborg. He can't be trusted. I didn’t tell you because I knew you would be against this plan the whole way, Lana. ” “Only because you’re Archer!” “Exactly!” Archer laid a hand on Lana's shoulder. Agent Kane lunged at Archer and closed her monstrous claws around his neck. Before she could choke him to death, Barry’s voice could be heard from the floor. “Wow, this is what you put up with, Archer? I’m kinda glad she rejected me. She has worse control issues than me.” Apparently the jammer didn’t block his speech function. “When my systems re-boot, I’m gonna kill all of you— No! What are you doing to me?!” Having been interrupted right in the middle of her she-hulk rage, Lana growled furiously and punted Barry’s head clean from his body. She dropped to the floor with a shattered foot, releasing a yelp of agony and frustration. “You may have beaten Barry, but this isn’t over. I made sure the CIA knew I was here, I told them they should send you! This isn’t over!” Barry’s rant was less intimidating than he had hoped. It was hard to sound scary when you were a disembodied head facing the wrong way from your audience. Speaking in third person didn’t help. The clones pulled out a ball gag and put a stop to Barry’s cries of protests. Where they got it? No one knew or cared to know. The mad scientists proceeded to hook the head up to a makeshift power supply to keep Barry alive and away from his body. “The tyranny of Barry is over,” as Archer worded it over the facility intercom. “All ODIN agents are free! I Archer, have liberated you all!” The ODIN scientists in the room, wasted no time making their way to the exists. Archer, Ray, and Krieger, plus Lana on a makeshift crutch, huddled around Barry’s head for what to do next. “Jeez, Lana, just, holy shit,” Ray remarked with genuine surprise. “Are you sure you aren’t a cyborg?” Krieger asked. Lana rolled her eyes. “Yes Krieger, can we just move on?” “Lana’s right. I have a feeling the others are probably running into trouble as we speak. If Barry tipped the CIA on purpose, and they sent us—” “Then they’re probably working on Bleach Protocol for this whole operation!” Lana blurted out. “And this is what I get for calling you right. I get interrupted.” Archer passed Krieger the data drive for the mission. “Krieger. Copy the data just in case they don’t plan on betraying us.” “You guys don’t actually think that machine works do you?” Lana said with a laugh. Both Kriegers looked offended. “You and Archer were shrunk down to microscopic size and inserted into a man’s bloodstream, and you think that a trans dimensional rift maker is less plausible?” “There’s one way to find out,” Archer hinted while tilting his head towards a certain disembodied head. The others turned and smiled together. Barry’s muffled screams grew more urgent when Archer picked up Barry’s head. He grabbed some duct tape and secured the power supply to the back of Barry’s head like a headband. The pack resembled a half sized car battery with a few wires connecting to his severed neckline. Archer was about to walk over to the machine, when he was struck with an irresistible idea. An evil, childish, but obviously brilliant idea. He grabbed a sharpie and scrawled some bold letters on Barry’s tape head dressing. Lana stepped up behind archer as he finished writing his message. “Normally I would object, but that is hilarious. I think this is the best Barry has looked in a while,” she admonished. “I don’t even know you guys.” Ray facepalmed. Archer made his way up to the humming archway and the Krieger twins continued to press things seemingly at random. A single jagged string of purple light arced between opposite sides of The Steve. Then another, and another. Soon it was like a ball of purple lighting was twisting and turning in the device. By this point the machine’s low humm had grown to the point that Archer swore he could feel it in his teeth. The former ISIS agent removed the ball gag and faced Barry towards himself. “Any last words for the robot menace?” Barry tried in vain to see the glowing light show behind him. “You could, you could always go with me?,” He said, stuttering at first, but soon spoke with a creepy excitement. “You could be the first man to explore whatever place The Steve takes you? The first interdimensional explorer?” Barry smiled as he saw Archer stop in his tracks. “Who knows, maybe there are some alien beings you can make first contact with? You could be the first representative of our species... in bed?” Any sort of epic atmosphere was ruined by Lana’s unladylike “HA! Even Archer isn't that dumb, right?” At that moment, a familiar war waged within Agent Duchess’ mind. On one hand, there was the urge to be awesome and rub it in everyone’s... less awesomeness. On the other, was the scrap of self preservation and common sense that told him the machine could just kill him or send him into a deadly volcano in another world. Even though Archer’s fear of death and dismemberment was as miniscule as the number of condoms he had ever used, logic had won this time. “What do ya say buddy?” Barry’s mouth was stuck in a creepy perfect smile. If his head was attached to his body, Archer imagined he would be giving him a thumbs up. Archer gagged the head once more. “I hope you stay a head in life, wherever this takes you.” With that, he tossed his robot rival into the unknown, with a surprisingly anticlimactic buzz of electricity. Everyone in the room just stared at the gateway in stunned silence. One of the scariest, most evil beings they had ever faced was either disposed of in another reality or instantly vaporized in the spiderweb of purple electrical currents. According to Krieger, it was 97% probability of the latter. Archer, Ray, and Lana collected their guns and mission gear from a nearby locker that Krieger had pointed out. “I’m glad you didn’t take any of his offers.” Lana awkwardly cleared her throat. “But what kept you from letting him kill us? All those things he said, they were true. We’re all terrible to you.” This was exactly the kind of serious talk Archer hated and avoided at all costs. She wouldn’t be surprised if he joked his way out of a real answer, but he knew when Lana was trying really hard to be sincere. Maybe he could just tell her the truth this time? Archer took a deep breath. “Lana, I know— “Uh, guys, I think it’s going to go kaploohi,” Krieger said nonchalantly. Lana put her hands on her hips. “What the hell does that mean? If it’s going to explode, then why didn't you just shut it down earlier?” “Well we weren’t sure if you wanted to use it for something else?” The second Krieger said. “I mean it takes forever to turn on.” “What would we even need a black hole thing for?!” Lana snapped. “To throw evil robot heads into for one Lana, where you even there?” Archer gathered up his weapons and mission suitcase from a nearby locker Krieger had pointed out. He geared up to escape the impending doom. Krieger was as enamored by mad science as ever. “Yeah, like Archer said. Also it’s not a black hole generator. Barry already covered that. This thing could be the key to never ending resources, meeting other civilizations across space and time. To go where no man has gone before!” The team pulled the two Kriegers away, who were still trying to shut down the machine. Lana led the charge out towards the double doors to the lab, just as the machine started sucking in objects from around the room. The last of the ODIN security and operational personnel were making their way down the halls to the nearest exits. Loose papers, pen holders, those cheap looking staplers that always jam were sucked towards the portal. They all got pulled and zapped to who knew where. Lana stopped power limping with her crutch when she noticed Archer had turned back towards the lab entrance. “Archer, what the hell are you doing?” Ceiling tiles were being yanked away. The doors to the lab were whipping violently on their hinges. “Lana. We got interrupted before and—” “Archer. You don’t need to tell me now!” She had to yell above the rush of the vacuum pulling objects into oblivion. “This place is going to shit!” “That’s just it! I don’t think I could ever say this unless we were in certain doom.” Lana tried to grab for Archer’s arm, but he took a step back towards the disintegrating hallway. “I know I can be a huge ass, but—” Archer was pulled off his feet and yanked back into the lab. He caught the edge of the doorway, barely able to keep his arms and head past the threshold. “I gotcha.” Ray grabbed Lana with one arm and thrust his cyborg arm into the wall next to him. The Krieger clones were already up the hallway and headed for the sub entrance. Lana extended her crutch to give Archer’s hand something to grasp, but he was just out of reach. “Ray, you have to get me closer!” “Why should I?” Ray asked. “We don’t all need to die for Archer!” “Ray’s right Lana,” Archer yelled out before Lana could answer. One of Archer’s hands slipped from the door frame. “You guys are like my only friends. That’s what I couldn’t tell you before. At least this way, I’ll get to be humankind's first inter-dimensional ambassador!” Lana lost her grip on her crutch and it sailed into oblivion. She stretched with all her might and extended her sausage fingers as far as they would go. “Just grab my hand you idiot!” “Lana. I’ll see you in... The Danger Zone!” Archer let go, disappearing into the unknown. “Archer!” “Lana, come on!” Ray pulled Lana back down the hall and they continued their evacuation. Once they fled far enough from the event horizon, they were able to make it back to the sub entrance. They dived into the water just as the lab seemed to violently implode and explode, setting the facility on fire. “So yeah, that’s what I meant by complicated,” Lana recounted none too gently. Ray, the two Kriegers, and Mallory were all gathered above the flood-able airlock in the CIA stealth sub. Mallory Archer slumped in one of the prepping chairs. It was one of those thin aluminum chairs that fold out from the wall. She held both her wrinkly hands to her face as she wept. “My boy. My b—baby boy!” Lana patted Ms. Archer on the back. “Jeez Malory. I’m going to miss him too, but he was a grown man.” “Yeah, he was a thousand times less innocent than any infant. Archer was more of a hell spawn if you ask—” Ray shut up at the sight of Lana’s “You’re not helping,” glare. Lana jumped as Malory grasped her arm with surprising strength. “What do you mean, he was? You heard Krieger. If there's a three percent chance that my son survived, then he’s out there right now.” “Actually, Barry’s chances of survival were lower, because his metal implants may have interfered with The Steve, and he was hooked up to a Macgyvered power supply.” Both Kriegers stroked each other's beards until one of them completed the calculations. “Archer's chances of survival are probably around four percent," Original Krieger concluded. The clone argued that odds were better represented at 1 in 292 million. “See! A mother knows. Krieger will fix the machine and we can get Archer from whatever god forsaken place he’s ended up this time.” As usual, Mallory wasn’t asking. This was another order. “But first, someone better find me something to drink on this tin can or so help me!” Ray pointed back to the periscope. “Did you see that place?! There’s nothing left to repair. There’s no way we could make another magic portal thingy.” “Actually, I was close to making my own version of The Steve at the ISIS headquarters. With the data drive we acquired, we should be able to replicate this event and retrieve Archer if he is still alive,” The original Krieger, who had agreed to be called Crieger with a “C,” but decided that was too confusing and shaved his clone brother’s right eyebrow so the others could tell them apart, but then the clone brother shaved Crieger’s right eyebrow in retaliation and the fighting continued until both clones were left eyebrow-less and completely identical, said. Mallory clapped her hands together. “Then it’s settled. Let’s get back to HQ and save my son! Tell Cyril and Holly we had a mission success and we can get the hell out of here.” “Oh shit! I forgot about the Bleach Protocol!” Lana cursed. "We have to warn Cyril and stop Holly's men." Cyril came flopping through the doorway to the bridge and face planted onto the wet metal floor. Holly appeared next as he stuck his tactical boot right on the pencil pusher’s back. Holly had a revolver aimed down at Cyril's head. “Yeah, about that. It might be a little late for a warning,” Cyril wheezed from the floor. The door to the other side of the underwater airlock swung open. Two muscular CIA men had Pam and Cheryl cuffed and kneeling in the room over. Cheryl winked at no one in particular. “Don’t worry guys. My new friend is going to make everything okay.” Pam scowled. “Just shut it Cheryl. You don’t have any friends. What I mean is no one believes you have any new friends.” Mallory face palmed after taking a swig of rubbing alcohol mixed with sparkling water. “If this is the kind of trouble we’re in, I can’t imagine the shit hole my poor baby is struggling to survive in.” Mallory reluctantly raised her hands in surrender. Classical music and soothing incense filled the air. The velvet drapes were adjusted to let the perfect amount of light filter into the guest suite. Fleur De Lis and her Husband lay next to one another on a red velvet couch in front of the largest bed within the mansion. “Well, Mister Ambassador of Earth. That was quite the introduction. You must be famished?” Fancy Pants bowed slightly to their guest. “I must insist that we treat you to the finest cuisine the Capitol has to offer.” Archer examined his cleaned and pressed suit sitting on the nightstand. It sat next to the most comfortable bed he had ever not had sex on. It was a little weird that they had undressed him while he was knocked out, after having apparently fallen from the sky. At least they put him in a bed and threw the covers over him. “Food sounds great. I could really go for a steak and something to drink,” Archer said rubbing his aching head. "You have alcohol here right?" “Ah, a person of exotic tastes I see. I have the perfect place in mind.” Fancy Pants clapped his hooves and the servants left the room to prepare the coach. “The establishment I have in mind is run by a griffin friend of ours. I haven't had meat too often, but I hear he is the best!” Archer did a spit take with his glass of water. He could have sworn a blue horse with a little maid’s outfit had just floated the drinking glass to his hand. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything against griffins would you?” Fancy Pants looked slightly offended. “No, no! I just haven’t had the pleasure of meeting one before,” Archer quickly replied. He was more concerned with the fact that he couldn’t tell if any of the women he was seeing were attractive. If only his splitting head would stop hallucinating everyone as little talking horses with silly names. For now, he would just wait it out, rather than say something that could land him in a nut house. Batbayar was dragging a small sled of firewood over the frozen tundra when his hoof hit something buried in the snow. He bent down to pull it free. It came up easily, but he dropped it quickly when it appeared to be some creature’s head. However, the big bold letters written on a silver strip around what he would describe as a forehead read, “I’M A BIG BUTT.” The young yak was very confused. The thing had eyes like a face, a mouth like a face, and a funny nose like a face, but it said it was a butt? All yaks knew writing always revealed truth. It was heresy for yaks to write down lies. The only non yak he had seen was the pink one, but she didn't seem like a liar. However, the words were written in the pony language. Why did this thing have wires like the fancy machines used by ponies and minotaurs? Maybe that pink pony did have something to do with this? Maybe it was an alien that only consisted of a face and a butt? For now, he would take the words at face value. Little Batbayar strapped the "big butt" to his sled and continued home to his village. Perhaps the Village Elder would have some answers for him.