“Hey, Trent. Dinner.”
Red Hawk barely looked up as a bowl of thick, grey gruel was pushed through a slot in the wall. He sat slumped in the corner of his cell, glaring down at the cold stone floor. The guard who had passed him his dinner paused on the other side of the energy field, staring in at him. “Trent! Eat your supper, before it gets cold. You know how bad that stuff can be when its cold.”
Slowly, Red Hawk looked up, glaring first at the guard’s face, then at the name on the guard’s badge. Jenkins. “Red Hawk,” he said slowly. “My name is Red Hawk.”
Jenkins smirked at Red Hawk, the energy field that separated them lending him courage. “They took that fancy suit of armor away from you, remember? You’re not Red Hawk anymore. You’re just Dominic Trent, inmate number 057234 at lovely Blackridge prison.”
As Jenkins spoke, Red Hawk slowly got to his feet, advancing slowly toward the guard until he stood right in front of them. Only a foot of distance and a barrier of pure energy separated them. The two stared at each other for a long moment before Jenkins finally broke the eye contact, unnerved by the degree of hatred in Red Hawk’s eyes.
Then, the lights went out.
Surprised, Jenkins took a step back, his hand instinctively going for the stun-baton at his belt. The energy barriers that kept the inmates in their cells bathed the hallway in an eerie red light, providing just enough light to see a dark figure standing at the end of the hallway.
“Identify yourself,” Jenkins called out, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. With slow, measured steps, he approached the dark figure. In the dim light, he saw the figure move to extend an arm toward him. Within Jenkins’ chest, the tiny spark of energy that initiated his heartbeat was extinguished, stopping the pump that sent lifeblood to his vital organs. He grabbed his chest, as if willing his heart to beat, but to no effect. Making soft gasping sounds, he slumped to the ground. After a few moments, even those tiny sounds ceased.
Red Hawk stood at the door of his cell, straining to see what was going on in the hallway. He took a step back when a familiar figure appeared in the doorway.
“Red Hawk,” the Technowizard said smoothly, a slow smile spreading across his face. He regarded the other with icy blue eyes, before shaking his head, almost sadly. “You failed miserably.”
“Not my fault,” Red Hawk protested weakly. “Three punks-“
“Should not have defeated you so easily,” the Technowizard cut him off. “I do not like failures, Red Hawk. I really should kill you where you stand, or at least let you rot in that cell.”
As he said that, the Technowizard reached out with one hand, and Red Hawk took another step back. As he watched through widened eyes, the Technowizard held his hand before the control panel that controlled the barrier. Sparks formed between the panel and his fingers, and moments later the barrier vanished.
“However, I am feeling generous,” the Technowizard added at last, a small, cruel smile forming on his face. “One last chance, Red Hawk. We are going to Ireland. This time, you will acquire the objective, or you will die trying.”