It was coming from the east.
Lynx ducked down and peered over the rim.
Son of a bitch!
A half-track loaded with soldiers was wheeling into the town square.
Lynx grinned.
Happy days were here again!
He laughed and lowered himself completely out of sight. No sense in letting them know he was there. They might turn tail and split before he got in his licks.
The rumble of the engine grew louder, until the building itself trembled. There was the grating squeal of brakes applied rather abruptly, and the motor was turned off.
Lynx peeked over the rim of the roof.
Will you look at this!
The driver of the half-track had parked the vehicle within a few feet of the front door!
Perfect!
Lynx smiled in anticipation. He calculated the angle and jumped, his sinewy muscles lifting him over the rim and down onto the cab of the half-track in one fluid motion. His legs coiled under him as he landed, and he leaped, clearing the cab and plunging into the midst of the shocked soldiers in the rear section.
The advantage was all his.
Packed into the back of the half-track with little space to spare, the troopers were unable to bring their M-16s to bear.
With a flashing swipe of both arms, Lynx dispatched two of the six soldiers by ripping open their throats. He pounced on a third and jammed the sharp claws of his right hand into the man’s eyes. Blood spurted from the burst eyeballs and the trooper jerked backward, attempting to escape.
One of the soldiers pulled a bayonet from a sheath in his belt.
Lynx grinned as he bounded onto the joker with the bayonet and sank his pointed fangs into the jerk’s neck. He twisted and yanked, and a large portion of the trooper’s throat was sheared off in a red geyser of blood and gore.
Four down and two to go!
One of the remaining soldiers was trying to scramble over the tailgate to safety.
Lynx went for the other trooper, who foolishly tried to punch him in the face. In a blur, Lynx dodged under the futile blow and drove his left hand up and in, his fingers and claws rigid, spearing the man in the throat and gouging open a hole the size of his fist.
The final adversary was precariously perched on the edge of the tailgate, prepared to spring to the ground.
He never made it.
A gun thundered, and the soldier was struck in the center of his back, between the shoulder blades, and toppled over the tailgate.
Lynx vaulted to the roof of the cab, ignoring the moaning, thrashing forms on the floor of the rear section. For a second, he believed one of his friends had returned and helped him.
But he was wrong.
Lynx landed on the cab and froze, his hair bristling.
“Surprise, surprise!” said a tall figure in black outside the cab to his left, the man’s cape covering his left arm, a 45 automatic pistol in his right hand with tendrils of smoke drifting upward from the barrel.
“Hello, Lynx,” greeted the apish hulk outside the cab to his right. “Long time no see.”
The Doktor and Thor.
Lynx glanced from one to the other in astonishment. They must have just gotten out of the cab of the half-track!
“What’s the matter, Lynx?” the Doktor chortled. “Cat got your tongue?”
Thor laughed and raised his right hand, revealing his sledgehammer.
“Got a little present for you, Lynx,” he said baiting him.
Lynx glared at the Doktor. “This must be my lucky day.”
“And why is that?” the Doktor queried.
“Because,” Lynx growled, “I’ve been looking to rip you to pieces, and here you are, delivered on a silver platter!”
The Doktor waved the 45 in his hand. “You’re forgetting something, aren’t you?”
“You think that peashooter of yours will stop me?” Lynx taunted.
“It stopped him,” the Doktor noted, nodding at the tailgate.
“Why’d you waste your own man?” Lynx asked, stalling.
“I can’t abide cowards,” the Doktor said, “and he was fleeing.”
Lynx started to inch forward.
“Hold it right there!” the Doktor warned, his voice hardening.
“Why don’t you shoot?” Lynx teased him. “What are you waiting for?”
The Doktor sneered. “I want to savor this moment. And there are a few things I want to say to you.”
“It figures,” Lynx quipped. “You’re plannin’ to talk me to death.”
Smiling, the Doktor shook his head. “I’ll be brief. First, I want to compliment you.”
“Compliment me?” Lynx asked incredulously. “Have you been sniffin’ glue again?”
“Do you have any conception of the damage you’ve caused?” the Doktor inquired. “You have set my work back decades.”
“I tried my best,” Lynx said.
“I want to thank you for what you’ve done,” the Doktor stated.
Lynx looked at Thor. “What’d you do? Whack him on the head with that hammer of yours?”
“Initially,” the Doktor went on, as if Lynx had not spoken, “I viewed the destruction of my Biological Center as a great calamity. It wasn’t until last night that I recognized the real significance of what you had done.
Certainly, you’ve delayed the implementation of some of my plans, and you’ve ruined my laboratory, my precious laboratory!” The Doktor paused.
“But, as Clarissa said, I can always rebuild my laboratory. I’ll continue to live on indefinitely, so long as I have access to a fresh supply of blood and can synthesize my unique dehydroepiandrosterone sulfate—
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Lynx interrupted. “What’s all of this got to do with me?”
“Don’t you see?” the Doktor replied. “You’ve taught me an invaluable lesson. I had grown complacent over the years. After ten decades without any resistance or competition, I’d allowed my sense of self-preservation to atrophy. To utilize a quaint colloquialism, what good is it to be king of the hill if there’s no one around to challenge your kingship? Do you understand?”
“I understand, all right,” Lynx snapped. “I understand that you’re looney-tunes! You think the whole world should do what you want it to do. You believe you can do anything you want.”
“I can,” the Doktor stated smugly.
“And hang the consequences, huh, Doc?” Lynx retorted.
The Doktor appeared puzzled. “Consequences?”
Lynx pointed at his own chest. “Consequences, you bastard! You fiddled with the laws of nature, and look at what you’ve done! Look at what you’ve done to me!” Lynx hissed.
“Is that what’s bothering your meager intellect?” the Doktor asked. “Is that why you rebelled against me? Because I created you as a special being with exceptional talents?”
“Special?” Lynx exploded. “You made me into a freak! Me and all the rest of your misfits!”
The Doktor sighed. “You fail to see the light.”
Lynx leaned forward. “Oh, I see it, all right! I see that you’ve got to be stopped, no matter what it takes!”
“And you think you can do it?” The Doktor laughed.
Lynx noticed Thor was grinning. “What’s with you, lunkhead? Do you like being the Doc’s pet monkey?”
The Doktor stiffened. “Thor is my close associate,” he said, correcting Lynx.
“Your ass!” Lynx snapped. “Thor is an expendable flunky, just like all the rest of us test-tube freaks!”
“He is not,” the Doktor declared indignantly.
“Oh, yeah?” Lynx pointed at Thor. “Tell me you wouldn’t kill him in a minute if it suited your demented mind!”
“Don’t listen to him,” the Doktor said calmly to Thor. “He’s raving.”
“Am I?” Lynx gazed at Thor. “Think! Use your pitiful excuse for a brain! Do you really think the Doc gives a damn about you?”