Two years ago, when he wore his own face and the regular green of the rank and file under the Blue Chief's command, Gant had been the one to drag Joe into Katse's antechamber on Cross Karakoram, propped on the muzzle of his gun. The ninja had damn near broken his skull in one last attempt to get at their leader, and Gant had joined the others in shooting him. They hadn't missed--he'd lost that magical ability of his to dodge bullets. Gant had last seen him lying on his back in a puddle of blood, his chest torn to bits--the once-feared Condor Joe, now a corpse.

Much to the frustration of the media, the Kagaku Ninjatai had completely withdrawn after the end of the war, allowing nothing more than one public statement acknowledging the death of the Condor and one mention of the memorial service, location unknown. But he could tell from what little had surfaced through the rumor mills that they had reacted badly to their loss. At least the ISO had given Gant a new title--he doubted the rest of the team would have tolerated another Condor.

He picked up the helmet from the dresser and put it on, surprised at how the violet tint of the visor barely altered his vision or sense of color. He had always wondered how the Kagaku Ninjatai managed to see through the damn things. His hearing came through clearly too, unmuffled by the material of the helmet. Pulling the helmet off, Gant inspected the padding inside and found small speakers where his ears would have been, but where they ported to he couldn't tell. Perhaps to some sort of built in receiver--the antenna in back? There was no way to know without taking the whole thing apart. Overall a nice design, better than he'd have accredited to the ISO.

His wristband beeped. Carefully making sure his hair was properly tucked beneath, Gant put the helmet back on and inspected himself one last time. Crimson, indigo, dusk blue and black: those colors did much to make a man look formidable. That must have been what had transformed a skinny kid barely out of his teens into the terror of the Syndicate. It was all in the costume, the staging. Gant thought it made him look great. For as short a time as he'd be wearing it.

Barely discernible beneath its deep violet shield, the face in the mirror smiled.

The others arrived seconds after he did, standing straight-backed and alert. Ken could almost hear their hearts pounding as fast as his own. No one spoke as they waited for Nambu to enter. Yet it didn't seem right. The way they stood, positioned unconsciously in a semicircle, left open an obvious gap in their group, like a chain with one link missing. Any moment, Ken expected the door to slide open and the Condor to rush in. The door to the outer corridor remained stubbornly closed.

The professor straightened his coat as he entered the room from his back office, and briefly, his expression saddened at the sight of the four expectant faces; older, scarred by experience. His children forced to become soldiers once more.

"You have orders for us, Hakase?" Ken asked.

Nambu blinked. "Ah. Yes." Activating the display behind his desk, he began to outline the latest findings: the downed airliner and the sightings of Galactor weapons and troops on Easton Island. "I don't care for the way the Syndicate has everything out in the open, almost inviting our surveillance teams. It may be a snare, but after we have lost so many--twenty three noted researchers and over ninety three military experts--before this incident, we have to find some way to recoup our losses. The wreck, unlike many, seems largely intact, so we have a better chance at finding survivors--in this case, hostages."

"So we go back into action." Jun sounded uncertain.

"Hey, we can handle it, no problem!" Ryu unholstered his weapon and flicked it at an imaginary enemy until a warning glance from Ken made him stop.

"If only Joe was still alive," Jinpei said quietly. "For a minute it was almost like old times." His gaze traveled to the floor. "It still hurts."

Lowering her head, Jun put a gentle hand on Jinpei's shoulder. Ken grimaced and swallowed hard, looking away toward the window. "Damn it," he said softly. "Two years. It's like nothing."

"Don't dwell on it, Ken," Nambu said. "Joe fought bravely and died a noble death. You can't let your grief undo all he fought for."

Don't lose your head, Ken. You're the leader. He shook his head.

"We won't, Hakase," Jun said after a moment. "We keep him with us. We'll do his part." Ken glanced at her, wondering if Joe haunted her dreams as well.

"There's the right attitude to take," Nambu said. "Speaking of G-2, I've had to make a difficult decision. Your weapons and methods have always required a five-person team to operate most effectively, so I have appointed a replacement."

"What?" Jinpei gasped.

"You're not replacing Joe, are you?" Ryu burst out.

"You're choosing a G-6, right?" Jinpei said.

The Professor's gaze dropped to his desk.

"But you promised we'd retire Joe's number!" Jinpei's voice cracked.

"It's only a number." Nambu reached behind him and pressed a button, activating the Hawk's bracelet. "I'm sorry. Much of this decision was out of my hands."

Ken's eyes widened as he stared at the professor. Who could possibly have forced Nambu into such a decision? Chief Anderson? What gave him the right? And why now, with no warning at all? Had he planned this so that the Team would have no time to protest? Nambu caught his expression and quickly looked away.

"This candidate is an ISO agent who was highly recommended by our Intelligence division for the job. I regret not introducing him to you earlier, but there was no time." Activated by a sensor in the hallway, a screen flickered on, revealing a tall, lean figure approaching. Quickly, Jun and Jinpei exchanged glances, then looked over at Ken, who stared at the viewscreen, his jaw tight.

"I would like to introduce to you, the new G-2, Getz the Hawk." The door whirred, rising like a curtain to reveal the agent, smiling crookedly.

"Oh, hell," Ryu said under his breath.

The Hawk's footsteps sounded loud as he walked into the room.

"Everyone," said Nambu. "This is Eric Getz. Getz, I assume you know the others."

"Of course." Gant sidled to where Ken stood. "I've been wanting to meet you for a long time." Unmoving, the Gatchaman stared into the Hawk's face with eyes like ice. Neither man offered a hand, and Gant swayed slightly like a self-conscious punk.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Nambu broke the standoff. "Let's get to business. Getz has inside knowledge that will benefit you. On the other hand, he will need to get accustomed to your fighting style, so you may need to cover for him on this first mission."

"I'll be fine, Hakase," Gant said, smiling widely. "I may even show them a few new tricks."

Behind him, Ken's face remained masklike, but concealed by the folds of his cape, his right fist clenched until the material of his glove creaked in protest. "Aniki...." Jinpei whispered. A quick stiffening of Ken's shoulders kept him from saying more.

Through the rest of the briefing, the team stood very still. Jun's face didn't waver from its initial startled expression. Ryu frowned at the viewscreen displays outlining their mission, his thoughts deeply buried. Jinpei's eyes flickered from Ken to Jun to the professor as he tried to determine what to do next. The Hawk stood in front of them all, seemingly oblivious to the tension he was causing.

In closing, Nambu said, "As your first mission in over two years, this will be the most dangerous ever. Be extremely careful. I wish you the best of luck."

As the five filed past him to the outer door, Nambu caught flashes of emotion: Smirking confidence from Getz. Confusion reflected in Jun's green eyes. Resentment in Jinpei's face. The first stirrings of anger in Ryu's. Ken passed him last, and briefly he paused. His gaze flickered from the door where Getz and the others had left, then met the Professor's and hardened. His voice barely registered the rage that burned behind his eyes: How could you?

"We're not through with this, Hakase," he snarled.

Nambu didn't reply. He watched his adopted son leave, posture bristling, and suddenly his strength left him. He clutched the desk for support. I've had to send you in blind before, but not like this. It's all up to you now, Ken. I know you can take him. Don't fail me. It's all up to you.

As if they had practiced for months rather than weeks, the Team scrambled quickly to their new warship and sped away from the base. Five minutes after they broke free of the ocean, the Hawk disappeared from the cockpit. Ken stared through the forward screen. Jun read their headings to Ryu, who repeated them as he set the controls. Jinpei glared back in the direction Getz had disappeared.

"What's our ETA?" Ken said.

"Forty five minutes," Jun said. "Once we level off at altitude, we'll be traveling at Mach eight."

"At least the new performance takes the sting out of things, and she doesn't look too bad from the inside," Ryu said, hands busy. He grinned. "Maybe we could scrape the paint real good during this mission."

Ken sighed, suddenly irritated at the reminder. "Where's Getz?"

"Taking a look around the ship," Jun said from the back. He glanced back at her, surprised at the lack of venom in her tone.

"What are we gonna do with him?" Jinpei said. "He's really full of himself."

Any reply was cut off by the sound of the elevator. "Hey," Getz called from within the tube. "Nice setup you got here, Ken. Think it'll last the mission?"

The sudden first-name familiarity jarred Ken. "There's no reason why it shouldn't," he snapped.

"Of course. Not that we know what we're up against. Galactor could have fresh new weapons that'll squash this thing like a bug." Passing by Jinpei's seat, he patted the Swallow on the head. "Right, kid?"

"Who're you calling 'kid?'" Jinpei snarled up at him, ready to launch from his seat.

"Jinpei!" Jun's voice jerked him up short. When he glanced back at her, she shook her head.

"Getz," Ken said sharply, the beginnings of a snarl on his own face. "We don't rely strictly on weapons--there's training and teamwork, and it would benefit you to take that into consideration."

"Oh sure. Right. Of course!" Getz laughed and shrugged, turning to look at them all. "I truly have to admire your blind faith--"

Ken's reply was cut off by the chime announcing a broadcast from headquarters. "We have more information on the Easton Island layout," Nambu said, coming on screen. A second display covered the forward viewscreen: the still-smoking wreckage of the airliner, followed by a diagram of the coast and what appeared to be a fenced in structure. "There is an abandoned stone temple in the immediate vicinity of the crash. We believe the Syndicate is using this as a cover."

"A temple?" Ken and Ryu exchanged glances.

"Who'da thunk?" the big man muttered.

"Getz can be of assistance here. He was assigned to investigate this area before."

"Three years ago," Getz said, stepping closer to the screen. "Yeah, leave it to me. I'll show you all how it's done."

"You wish," Jinpei said through his teeth.

Unaware of the commentary, Nambu continued. "This won't be the same Galactor you're accustomed to fighting. Be extremely careful."

Ken nodded. "Yessir." The screen faded, replaced by the forward view of streaming cirrus clouds and the light of the coming dawn. He became suddenly aware of a presence next to him, a hand in his. At the same time, Jun noticed, and the two quickly stepped apart without a word, Jun turning her back on him. All of them returned to their seats--Getz propping his feet on the console--for the remainder of the trip.

"Well," Ryu said finally. "We're closing in on Easton. And if you're looking for a bright spot in this mission..." He flipped a series of switches and a soft whirring filled the cockpit. "This ship has a full autopilot." He grinned widely. "So I'll be joining you."

The advance knowledge and preparation, however, could not completely dampen his apprehension. He'd failed to rescue anyone from the surprise attack on the Tiger base. He'd failed to save Getz. Not this time, he promised himself. I know the enemy's here. I'm prepared. I will not be cornered. I'll think my way through this. I cannot fail here.

Faces leered at him from the dark; primitive gods, heroes or demons. A fit place for Galactor. Joe never understood why they leaned so heavily toward religious themes. The Team had fought a flaming lava Christ statue, a mechanized Buddha, a Chinese dragon and a giant kachina-- "Equal opportunity blasphemers," Jun had called them, and Joe had laughed at the time. The Syndicate built bases beneath churches, temples and holy grounds, culminating in that one great site at the roof of the world, Cross Karakoram; both destroying and using as refuge the icons that numerous cultures held dear. Maybe this practice was the Syndicate's way of coping with the demon that leads them. Or maybe it had all been X's idea--one demon mocking the faith of men.

Leaving the boat in a small cove, Joe spotted an opening in the rock wall of the temple, right above the cliff that rose above the beach. After making sure the opening was empty and unused, he slung his pack over his shoulders and began to climb up the sheer rock face. The way was treacherous, slick and filthy with seabird droppings. Joe found enough purchase on a ledge of rock to leap the rest of the way, skidding on the outer lip of the tunnel and biting back curses.

The tunnel, once a natural cave, seemed long deserted. Pulling a set of night goggles from his belt, Joe descended slowly into the darkness, careful not to slip, listening intently for any sign of life.

Before long the path twisted upward, and wet volcanic rock gave way to flat stone; first moss-covered and ancient, then appearing freshly cut. Joe heard a faint humming which grew louder as he proceeded. When he placed his hands against the wall, he could feel the faint tingle of electrical current deep within. In the darkness he smiled.

Breaking in took only a few minutes, and he skulked through empty corridors, searching for some sort of directory or reference. This sector appeared to be used for storage. If Galactor kept to its old base designs, all the weaponry and supplies would be cached in the lower floors, while administration lay upstairs; the more important the contents, the higher the level. That way Katse'd had fewer floors to blast through with his escape rocket when the Kagaku Ninjatai had trashed his installations.

Katse, dead. The news never provided details of the Syndicate taicho's death, only said he'd leaped to his demise. Joe hoped it had been painful, though no torture on earth could begin to match what that monster deserved.

He found the fire stairs. Keeping clear of the cameras, he hopped up the stairs one flight at a time. The corridor on the floor he chose was empty except for another camera. Slipping past, he disabled it by yanking out its power cord, then surveyed the schematic below. On the other end of the floor, to the west, lay a guard outpost. Perfect.

But the halls on this level, harshly lit and paneled in smooth metal, offered little by way of concealment. Joe considered the standard procedure, swapping uniforms with some unfortunate guard, but he had yet to see a breathing person anywhere on the base. Hugging the wall, he moved on.

Still, not a soul showed himself until he found what appeared to be the surveillance center. Voices murmured behind the door; Joe guessed at two, maybe three men. The trick here was to get in and past them before they could trigger an alarm. Another problem: the door consisted of a smooth, solid sheet of metal with no knob and no activating switch other than a card key slot in the wall beside it. A small video camera watched the door, and he disabled it quickly.

Joe decided to live dangerously. Edging up beside the door, he knocked. From inside came confused male voices, one confirming the camera was out of order. Someone swore, then footsteps sounded as he approached the door, then stopped.

"If he's supposed to be in here, he has a key," said a voice from further back.

"Yeah, but if the power to the camera's out, the power to the lock is out too."

"How do you know that?"

"Just open the door!"

A hand fumbled with a switch and the door slid aside. The guard peeked outside and found himself staring past the barrel of a formidable looking pistol to the steely grin of its wielder. Slowly he lifted his hands.

"Congratulations," Joe whispered to him. "Now you know what locks are for. Turn slowly and quietly, and walk back into the room."

The guard swallowed hard and followed instructions. Using the man as a shield, Joe scanned the room and found three more guards, their backs turned. One looked back. "Who was--"

Five seconds later, four men sprawled on the metal floor, wearing a shuriken apiece. Joe retrieved the weapons before moving to the console.

The guard outpost provided video access to all the corridors in the sector, plus schematics of the entire base. The computer system, geared toward the lowest common denominator, was the ultimate in user friendly--to Joe's amusement, some misguided geek had even customized the user interface with fancy graphics: "Welcome to Solar Base Alpha." True to his suspicions, the base honeycombed the entire island and featured a wall of jungle and stone structures surrounding two crater-sized radar dishes and an unlikely-looking mountain labeled "Garender." Joe frowned at the mountain, then zoomed in to get an interior schematic. The screen flickered blue with an ominous message: DENIED. Joe scaled his inquiry back to the core around the mountain: DENIED. He backed up further: DENIED. INSUFFICIENT CLEARANCE.

"Huh," he growled. The more he looked at the mountain, the more it looked like something in dire need of destruction. He needed maps, schematics, printouts; anything to help him figure out how the hell to take the Garender down on his own. Warehouses full of hapless gangsters were one thing. This project would have daunted the Kagaku Ninjatai all together. Especially without the necessary firepower.

An alarm squealed, making him jerk away from the console. Following the sound, Joe found a computer screen showing a radar blip and the message, UNIDENTIFIED AIRCRAFT ON 50 MILE APPROACH. His eyes widened. Could it be another airliner? Another look at the radar showed the blip approaching at a much higher airspeed than a common passenger jet, which implied a military craft.

The vehicle came within range of the base cameras, lighting up five more screens. Joe turned up the radio, rewarded with the frantic babble of Galactor voices as they tried to figure out what was going on. First a moving grey dot, closing in fast, then the cameras zoomed in, and--

"What the fuck is that thing?" he muttered aloud.

"Signal confirms craft is an ISO warship," announced the radio. "Lock on target and--"

"Hold your fire. Repeat, hold your fire! Our agent is on board, and will be bringing the Kagaku Ninjatai onto the base. All foot patrols assemble at Sector A immediately! Taicho's orders!"

Joe's jaw dropped. That was their new command ship? The bulky, stubby-winged fighter craft looked more like a Galactor mech with indigestion; functional in spite of its awkward design, not because of it. Cameras followed the thing as it zoomed in closer, then turned toward the beach, as inconspicuous as a clown at a funeral.

Joe put his head in his hands and his shoulders shook as he allowed himself a moment of silent, helpless laughter. Ken has got to be pissed.

His amusement was short-lived. Though he'd come here to intercept Getz, he found more things to do now that he'd actually seen the layout. The Team's arrival meant he had little time left to deal with the base. From here they had to locate either a landing spot or a dropoff point, then find their way into the temple. Joe estimated he had fifteen minutes at most--no time to investigate the mountain and whatever lay within. Alarms continued to clamor in his ears, the babble of voices increasing in pitch, adding to the urgency. Joe found the printer and called up the system's print command and hoped the order would spool to the right place. He grabbed the sheets as the printer spat them out, tucked them into a belt pouch, then surveyed the guards lying on the floor and growled.

"Dammit, just my luck."

Joe made do with what he had; the hems of the too-short pants riding high on his ankles, the uniform shirt ballooning as he ran, the standard Galactor-issue rifle in one hand and his pack slung carelessly over one shoulder. The other guards rushing down the corridors didn't spare him a second glance, though he made sure to steer clear of anyone who looked like an officer. He ran for what seemed like miles of corridors, down sloping accessways, due north until the metal walls gave way once more to stone. Instead of volcanic rock, however, enormous blocks of sandstone formed the walls of what appeared to be an ancient labyrinth. Only a close look at the chisel marks and the occasional conduits that ran through the stone, and the oily whiff of machinery gave away the facade.

In the labyrinths Joe slowed down for a more careful look around. By this time most of the other guards had scattered to their posts, and retreating into a quiet corner, he yanked off his mask, pulled out his printouts and confirmed his location. Three levels of corridors surrounded what appeared to be a central audience chamber: where Joe suspected the Team was headed. The layout appeared suspiciously like the multifloored arenas he and his team had repeatedly stumbled into in older battles. The more things change....

He found the floor of the audience chamber occupied by a single stone statue of a deity with its hands pressed together; the walls haphazardly formed by square sandstone blocks which protruded unevenly, offering ledges and recesses--plenty of hiding places. Before the statue was a sunken pit with ledges or stairs leading down, but the end blocked off. Joe approached the statue first, and as he drew near, he smelled wet plaster. Gentle prodding crumbled some of the surface away, exposing the metal beneath. Another Asiatic figure; he wondered how Galactor planned to utilize it--given the chance, would it have spewed fire, or sprouted fangs and leaped to the attack?

Pulling a small explosive from his pack, he armed the device and set it squarely between the statue's shoulders. Then he gathered himself and leaped, jumping from block to block until he looked down from a vantage point three stories up. The block on which he stood had an opening behind it, and within he spotted the machinery: monstrous gears and tracks hooked to the blocks of stone that made up the walls, creating a movable maze.

Then he heard them.

Distant and barely audible through the far entry came the footfalls and the hushed voices, their familiarity sending an icy shock up his arms and to his face. Joe crouched down, peeking over the edge of the ledge, waiting. He couldn't help but watch.

Two years had passed since Joe had said goodbye to them for what he thought would be the last time. Only two years, yet it felt like forever. The same people he had known and trained with, argued with and fought beside for eight years, had changed in a million tiny ways that made them almost seem like strangers; unreal. They'd all grown, matured, turned more adult. Jun had filled out, evened her proportions, and now glided like a dancer as she walked. Joe remembered how she had rushed toward him at Cross Karakoram, awkwardly favoring one ankle, her face twisted with grief, and it ached to watch her now. The kid--was that really Jinpei?--had shot up like a weed and grown some muscle to pad out those gangly arms and legs. His voice had also developed a distinct honk; "Jinpei the Goose," Joe might have called him, then laughed as the enraged preteen chased him, squawking a string of epithets in a voice like an abused clarinet. Ryu's waistline had widened to the point where it affected the way he walked; genetics or too much home cooking? How Joe longed to warn them; to get them out of here and back to their weird looking warship to blast the base apart and go home, so maybe later they could talk about old times. So tempting, but it would destroy them. It would destroy him.

Ken looked stronger, more solid, and walked with the self-assurance only experience could provide. His posture also broadcast his outrage and distrust for the man leading the way. And that man, that smirking gargoyle wearing his colors...

What in hell had possessed Nambu to put this man in his place, and in the Condor's uniform? The thought of the real Getz taking his place had been grating enough to send him halfway across the world after that individual. What was he trying to do, rub everyone's noses in it? The uniform hung off the impostor, as if he were wearing second hand castoffs. And he didn't walk, he skulked, as if he knew he was stepping into areas best not trespassed.

A man lay dying in his arms: I never wanted to be you. Getz--the real Getz--had not deserved this. Ken didn't deserve to see this.

The gargoyle spoke, mocking: "Jinpei, you scared?"

"Of this place?" the kid snorted. "Oh please."

But they all looked nervous. Dislodged by Joe's arrival a couple of loose stones clattered down from his hiding place. He heard Ken's intake of breath, the snap of a weapon being drawn. Below, Getz smirked.

Joe's eyes narrowed. Soon. Very, very soon.

"These catacombs run through the entire island. There are miles of them, some built by the natives and the rest natural caves. It's pretty easy to get lost, so stick close."

"Shouldn't you keep it down?" Jun whispered. Her voice, unheard in years, sent the hair rising on the nape of Joe's neck and spread gooseflesh up his arms, regardless of his armor.

Getz shrugged. "Naah. The ceilings here are too broken down for anybody to use without causing a cave-in. We have miles before we run into anyone. Stick with me, kiddies. I'll lead you right to their doorstep."

"Jerk," Jinpei muttered.

"Well come on, then," said Ryu as he hoisted himself over one of the blocks toward what appeared to be a corridor. The others followed, leaving the room.

Again Joe checked the map. Twelve side corridors led into the main arena, perfect for letting in the soldiers when the battle began. Joe slipped through the opening behind the ledge and threaded his way among the machinery.

A red light glowed in what appeared to be the next chamber down, and Joe went to check it out. At the entrance, he stopped. A new statue, shaped like a giant hand and decorated with what appeared to be eyes, filled the inner sanctum. Its thick, riveted armor showed this one was clearly a weapon. Unslinging his backpack, Joe unloaded and dispersed some of its contents: Semtex on battery fuses, dynamite on old-fashioned windup timers... all cheap and perfectly serviceable antiques that worked undetected where more sophisticated bombs would have set off alarms. And they left no personal signature, something he had learned during the gang wars. He placed them so they would explode in a chain reaction that would hopefully rip the mecha apart. Joe had been hoping for a situation like this for months, ever since the enemy had reappeared. If only he could bring down the base without injuring anyone on the Team....

The footsteps grew louder again, sounding like they were above him, and Joe stopped to listen.

"Hey, this is a dead end!" Ryu's voice.

"We've been going around in circles." Jun's voice, trying to hide her irritation.

"That's weird," said Jinpei. "I thought there was an opening here."

"Looks like your guide skills need work." Ken didn't bother to conceal his impatience. "Where are we?"

"What's the problem, Getz?" Jun said.

Only footfalls.

"Getz?"

"He's gone!" Jinpei shouted.

Above Joe's head, something switched on with a high-pitched whine, like a weapon warming up. Ken, watch it.... The whine turned into a screech, the sound of some energy weapon cutting loose, and Joe heard the others cry out. Ken swore and a gunshot sounded, followed by an explosion that echoed throughout the temple--Joe's first charge had gone off.

As the sound dissipated into the rattle of crumbling stone, Ken snarled, "Getz! You bastard! You set us up!"

"Ken!" Jun shouted, and a second later, Joe heard the whistle of a thrown weapon followed by a grunt of pain. Leaving the statue behind, Joe tried to backtrack, to get back to their level. Getz had obviously tried to attack Ken from behind, and though Joe knew Ken was more than capable of defending himself, he wanted a piece of the impostor. Even if the only thing he could do was shoot him from the dark.

Somewhere in the interim, the walls had shifted and the access from the red chamber was now blocked off. The red light in the chamber went out, leaving total blackness that even Joe's enhanced vision couldn't penetrate. He swore, staring upward as if he could see through solid stone to the battle above.

Getz howled: "DIE!" The cry ended in the sound of impact as Ken hurled him against the wall. Angrily Joe felt along the walls of the chamber, searching for a way out. It suddenly occurred to him that he might have been detected, and he whirled back to where he remembered the statue-- the most logical source of attack--to be. But the machine remained dormant, the room still, dark and quiet.

His search along the walls yielded nothing but rough, solid stone. Cautiously, Joe made his way back to the statue and sat on the pedestal behind it, away from where he remembered the "eyes" to be. The most obvious use of this weapon would be to aim it at the Team. If he stayed with it, the battle would come to him.

Above him, Getz laughed. "It doesn't really matter if I kill you, you know. Your time is over. I know all your secrets."

"Shut up, you bastard!" Jinpei yelled.

"Come out and fight!"

Joe heard more footfalls, but not from Getz. It sounded like several sets... the sound of troops gathering. Weird laughter echoed through the stone chamber, and a new voice called out. "We've been waiting for you...."

The trap had been sprung. With the rattle of gunfire, the fighting began. Glaring blindly at the ceiling, Joe ground the loose stones beneath his hands. He could only imagine what was happening up above; see in his mind's eye the graceful strikes that accompanied the Team's battle cries; imagine the troops toppling as the fighting slowed.

Suddenly, the whole room shuddered, and Joe felt the pedestal shift upward. Cracks appeared in the walls, letting in pinpoints of light, restoring sight. Above Joe's head, the tips of the fingers on the statue touched the ceiling, and then, as he stared in amazement, began to push through. He pressed himself against the trunk of the mecha, using one of its outlying stalks to shield himself as the thing burst up into the floor above.

Chunks of sandstone fell around him. Joe kept his arms above his head to deflect falling debris until the shuddering movement stopped. He heard the Team's cries of shock above the deep vibration of power--the mecha warming up--and he stared upward at the bombs he'd planted, trying to assess which explosive would start the chain reaction while allowing him enough time to get clear.

Then there was no time to wonder. He had to make it work.

Ken glanced around: on the ledge above stood a squadron of goons, and in the middle, the commander. Frowning, Ken stared at her. She was female, which was unusual for a subcommander; usually the female commanders led special groups like the Devil Stars or that set of mannequin mechs they'd encountered three years ago. And Ken had seen some weird outfits on the doomed commander of the week, but this one took the cake: black, thigh-high boots beneath a half-robe with long, flowing purple sleeves; a half mask that left exposed white skin and a feminine mouth--even at this distance he could see the lipstick--and a hat with a high, pointed crest. The robe made her shoulders look even wider than they were, but even so, they were much wider than the average woman's. And her strange voice was too deep to be feminine, like a male parody of a woman's voice. Could this be not a commander, but their new general? Were they dealing with another mutant like Katse?

"At last we meet, Gatchaman," she crowed. "I wondered when you would crawl out from under your rock."

"I believe that's our line," he snapped back. "Identify yourself!"

"But of course! We owe you at least that courtesy." She spread her hands wide. "I am GelSadora, general of Galactor, and on its behalf, I welcome to the beginning of a new era: an era of Galactor rule! Our first task shall be to remove you from our path."

Oh-kay, Ken thought, a grim smile tugging at his mouth. The old games begin again. He gauged the distance from the ground to the ledge--she might be within throwing or firing range. He saw Jun and Jinpei doing the same, and they stopped to glance at him. Ken nodded.

"You're new yet," Ken said. "Since this is the first time you've met the White Shadow, I'll grant you that. But that's all. We've knocked you down before, and this time we'll make sure you stay that way!"

"Perhaps." GelSadora smirked. "But not today." She gestured at her men. "Fire."

Ken gave the signal and leaped high as the bullets chewed the stone where they had once stood. Landing on a high ledge, he pushed off and dropped toward GelSadora; her startled shriek cut off as his boot slammed into the side of her helmet. She toppled and fell dangerously close to the edge as Ken dropped past her and right into a knot of troops. He lashed out with fists and feet and dropped into a graceful flip as the bodies scattered around him. Those who were unfortunately close enough to see his face caught glimpse of a feral smile. The others, from what he saw and heard, had slipped right back into their old fighting patterns.

The screams and gunfire faded, and at last the team stood alone in a sea of sprawling bodies. Even the general had vanished. Ken scanned the room and caught the sight of a black figure slinking toward an opening in the wall.

"Getz!"

But he slipped through before Ken could reach the opening. Motioning to the others, he followed.

They found themselves in a narrower chamber this time, and like a rat, Getz vanished through a new opening, which slid shut. The last one through, Jinpei glanced at the opening behind him and found it gone. "Um, we just lost our door."

Of course. Ken cursed himself. How many times will I let us be led?

The ground rumbled, dropping from beneath their feet, and the four staggered. Rock crumbled and fell as the sandstone blocks pulled back into the walls, leaving a smooth surface. Then something new erupted from the ground. Jun, Jinpei and Ryu stared, transfixed, at the thing emerging from below.

A new statue, shaped like a hand and studded with eyes, rose to the surface like a stage prop in a play. The room vibrated with a rising hum as something within the metal monster activated. Ryu drew his gun and fired at it. Two shots bounced off the statue before Ken touched his arm. "Hold your fire. It's not doing any good."

A sudden crackle, and a burst of bright light fired just past Ken's shoulder. He froze, catching movement out of the corner of his eye; there was a second crackle, and the statue fired in that direction.

Motion activated. Shit.

Behind him, Jinpei swore and, before Jun could stop him, drew his pistol. The bolt caught him in the shoulder. GelSadora's laugh began again, echoing over the Swallow's cry of pain.

"This is one of our smaller weapons, the Jinzo Robo," she said. "As Science Ninja, I'm sure you know the effectiveness of lasers." The general stood above him in a convenient niche of stone, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

"I could get to hate her," Ryu said under his breath. "If we get outta this."

How fast is it? Ken thought. A glance back at the rest of the team showed they were wondering the same thing, carefully slipping weapons from their belts. Their eyes met Ken's, and he nodded slightly. "On my signal, throw your weapons toward the ceiling. I'll go for the eyes when it fires."

They threw edged weapons and explosives, but with another crackle, all of their weapons vaporized. Light flashed, and a thick line of pain seared itself across the back of Ken's hand. Too fast. He fired at the eyes, with no result, then dropped and rolled to dodge the return fire. Reflexively the others dropped to the floor to make smaller targets of themselves. Ken's mind raced: Next plan....

"Time to make peace with your god, Gatchaman. For when this god wakes up, all is finished for you!" With that, the woman vanished into the wall, leaving them alone with the mecha.

Indeed the huge eye at the monster's base was opening, glowing, ominously brighter. Ken fired again, and the answering bolt seared his mantle, leaving a blackened stripe across his right shoulder. The monster blinked as his own shot bounced harmlessly off, and the eye began to open again. A new sound keyed in: a piercing, high-pitched oscillation that seemed to drill through the protective material of his helmet to his brain. Ken cursed under his breath. Some sort of sonic weapon. We're pinned. Think! What kind of beam will it emit? How can we counter it, deflect it?

Clinging to the back of the mech, Joe could feel the thing powering up; preparing for a massive discharge of energy. With a grimace, he reached over to the final bomb he had set and twisted the timer all the way to its stop.

The statue exploded.

In slow motion, Ken saw the light appear from cracks within, splitting the thick plating apart. He saw himself leaping for the rest of the team, the others all huddled behind what little protection their mantles provided. The blast of heat nearly flattened the team against the far wall, and from the corner of his eye, Ken saw the tip of one of the huge "fingers" pass inches from his helmet and land heavily on the ground beside him.

Finally, the hiss of raining shrapnel died down enough for them to hazard a cautious look. When Ken raised his head, he found the mech had been reduced to a twisted, smoldering stump.

Joe clawed at the stones, struggling to get his bearings. His ears rang from the blast. Dust and smoke hung thick in the air, obscuring his vision, and he had to fight not to cough. The others might hear.

Pausing a moment to get his bearings, he crawled slowly through the debris, past torn chunks of metal and stone, then sat behind the ruins of the statue, taking care to stay hidden from the others in the chamber.

The Team, huddled tightly on the floor, was just starting to stir. Assuming the Kagaku Ninjatai was done for GelSadora and her entourage had disappeared. Joe took a moment for a few deep breaths and a quick physical inventory. He'd leaped away from the mech, and the explosion had caught him a split second later, slamming him into the back wall and dropping him to the floor. He ached all over, but nothing felt broken. For the first time since he had awakened in Rafael's lab, he saw his own blood. It dripped from his nose, and Joe could taste it back in his throat. His borrowed Galactor uniform was reduced to rags. Exposed to the blast, the skin on his face and forearms was abraded in spots that stung like childhood scrapes. Joe frowned, thinking of the bullet and shrapnel dings he had suffered in previous battles, the pistol whipping he'd received on the destroyed Tiger base... Those assaults were nothing compared to the damage he should have received from the close-range explosion.

At the memory of that pain, Joe felt his armor tighten, and suddenly the stinging stopped. Joe wiped the blood off his left arm and found the skin beneath unbroken, as if he had never been touched. Damn. Rafael must have explained this at one time, but Joe didn't remember listening.

"Sound off," Ken called. "Are you all right?"

Joe clenched his teeth. "I'm fine," Jun said after a beat. Jinpei and Ryu confirmed they were unhurt.

"What happened?" said Jinpei. "Why'd it explode?"

"I don't--wait. Look at this." Ken found a fragment of the bomb and his voice dropped. "Somebody set this on short timer. Too short to get clear in time. Whoever it was must have died in the blast."

In his hiding place, Joe grasped his elbows and shuddered.

More footsteps sounded from the right, and in unison, everyone turned in their direction. At the sight of a blond haired man in black edging toward an opening in the stones, Ken yelled, "Getz!"

The traitor turned and ran, and the Team followed, leaving Joe alone. Looking up, he saw a new opening in the wall above his head, and he leaped up and through it. Joe heard the grinding of rock as more of the stage walls began to shift. The Team wouldn't reach Getz before they were blocked off.

That's all right, Joe thought. I will.

Cursing silently, Gant ran. Nobody had expected the Kagaku Ninjatai to elude the Jinzo Robo, and now Gant could do nothing but retreat and hope the ground troops can contain the enemy enough for GelSadora to evacuate before the base was destroyed.

It was difficult to run. Blood oozed from his shoulder where Ken's saucer had cut him, and he suspected some ribs were cracked as well. The pain made it hard to breathe, and he wheezed, steps flagging. He should have known better than to try and take the Eagle down--at least unwounded. The bastard had thrown him into a wall and then nearly kicked his intestines through his backbone. Gant knew the Kagaku Ninjatai could be killed, but he'd forgotten just how hard it was to accomplish. The sons of bitches have nine lives--a hundred lives. Dammit, Gant, that slipup was almost lethal.

And it might still be. No doubt his popularity with the high officers had decreased, and he'd best be watching his back. At least as long as he carried valuable information about the ISO's new undersea installation, no one in the Syndicate would want to kill him outright.

Gant zigzagged between the stone blocks, hearing his pursuers fall back, hoping they thought he would head toward the main entrance to the temple to escape instead of deeper in, where he knew the emergency escape craft were stowed. The twisting accessways opened into a larger, dimly lit antechamber. The area was deserted--the rest of the troops had either fought and died, or bolted.

Not hearing anyone behind him, he slowed to a walk and tried to catch his breath. Almost. He was almost free. There'd be other opportunities. This battle was only the beginning. He'd gotten close to the enemies once, seen their weaknesses. With more planning and foresight, he'd destroy them yet.

The eerie whistle brought him up short. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, echoing confusingly off the walls. Glancing wildly around, Gant backed up until his back hit the wall. Surely the Eagle had been hurt in the explosion. How had he caught up so quickly?

Then came the footsteps. One set of footsteps, hard heels ringing against the stone floor. The sound came not from where he'd come, but from where he was headed. Gant's breath caught. Was Gatchaman psychic as well as unkillable?

The footsteps grew louder, closer, as the whistle died away. Gant drew his pistol and waited, squinting into the dark, hoping to catch sight of his enemy before he saw him. If the Eagle could outrun him, he could no doubt outfight him. Gant had to shoot him first.

The shadow of a man fell across the opening before him, but it wasn't the familiar bird-shaped shadow he expected. Gant raised his gun as casually, the intruder walked into the open and turned to face him. The light fell across his face. Gant's eyes went wide.

No! You're dead, damn you!

Gant had seen him dying--he'd seen him dead. No one survived those wounds! The ISO had publicly buried him! He was dead!

Yet there he stood, undeniably, the man from countless file photos that the Syndicate frantically circulated as soon as they'd obtained them. Naked hate blazing in his eyes, focused on Gant's face. His teeth clenched around a silver feather, lips pulled back in an animal snarl.

Nine lives--a hundred lives! Why won't you stay dead?

In slow motion Gant felt himself pull the trigger, felt the gun buck in his hands, saw the piece of stone wall explode behind the apparition's left shoulder. Saw the dead man straighten slowly, the rage in his face relaxed to an expression of disgust. Gant tried to fire again, but his body wouldn't move. Only his eyes... he looked down and saw the tip of the steel quillspike that was buried in his neck. Paralyzed, he watched Joe turn his back and vanish from the room the same way he had come.

When he heard the others approaching, running toward the new entrance to the chamber, Joe realized he should have pulled that feather. Better yet, he should have used something else. He grimaced silently. This was going to leave a bigger impression than he'd intended to make, and it was too late to correct the situation.

With the Team out of harm's way, at least for the moment, Joe's attention turned back to the Garender. But he had no more weapons to use on the thing, not that the explosives he'd carried would even have had much effect on whatever the mountain contained. What are my other options? He pulled out his printed map and studied it. As a military base, surely the Syndicate had munitions stores somewhere, but Joe doubted he had time to pick up the supplies he needed, haul them out and make his way to the site. That new taicho was no doubt implementing the damned thing even now.

He tossed his pack on the ground and ripped it open. He tore what was left of the Galactor uniform away, then pulled off the grey suit and boots and stuffed them into the pack. He changed into his old tattered civvies--clothes he hadn't worn in over two years--fastened the bracelet and activated it.

The bracelet let out a high-pitched squeal that hurt in its intensity, and currents raced visibly across his skin, crackling violently--that wasn't right. Joe realized as the air shimmered around him that maybe it wouldn't work--that the bracelet had been too badly damaged. Each bracelet was keyed to the individual's body patterns, and now whatever physical key he'd used to activate it in the past might be gone thanks to Rafael's handiwork. But after a moment, the dark uniform flared into place. On the wall behind him stood a shadow from the past: the Condor.

Joe pulled a feather from a belt pouch and hauled up his pack with one arm, then moved up to the entrance and listened.

It wasn't hard to tell when the Team found Getz. Joe had to give the bastard credit--he was still standing when they entered the chamber. A second later, a rattling thud told Joe he'd fallen. And then they found the feather.

"But those are Joe's weapons!" Jinpei said.

"What the hell--"

"I wonder," Ryu said. "I wonder if the same person blew up the statue."

"That's impossible," Ken said.

"Someone is close," Jun said in almost a whisper. "Watching out for us."

Joe tried not to think about what he heard--it would just ruin his concentration. Damn, damn, damn.

"Look here! There're footprints, and they're fresh...."

"All right. I may regret this," Ken growled. "But let's take a look."

They began to walk. Joe slipped down the corridor, watching carefully behind him. If the map was right, this corridor should lead out of the temple and toward the base itself.

The ground changed from sand to hard stone, eliminating the footprints the Team could follow, and predictably, their progress slowed. Time for another lure. Joe backtracked and dashed across the clearing, and this time they called out.

He stood at the end of the corridor. The light behind him cast his shadow on the opposite wall. Watching it, he held the feather up almost like bait: you want another one? Here it is--just follow me.

"Joe!" Jinpei's voice cracked. "That's Joe n'aniki!"

Aniki: big brother. Jinpei's nickname to him and Ken. Joe had ignored it in years past as routine, but now, now it hurt to hear it.

And then Jun screamed his name, and the sound hit him like the blow of a fist. He stood for a heartbeat longer, then darted away. The voices echoed after him, battering him from behind.

"Where are you ?" Jun called.

"Why is he hiding?" Ryu said.

"He has to be close!" Jun cried. "Joe!"

Ken called, "Wait--please!" Was that to him, Joe wondered, or to the others?

The caverns offered more places of concealment. Once again, he leaped high and crowded back into the darkness of a crevasse as they entered the room and paused.

"Why is he hiding from us?"

Concentrate. Don't lose it. Don't listen to what they're saying. Get them to follow.

"That shadow was not Joe!" Ken snapped. "It's a mistake!"

"How can you say that?"

"But it looks exactly like--"

"If it were really Joe, he wouldn't run from us."

"Then who is it and why would he help us?" Jinpei said.

"I don't know, but I'm positive it isn't Joe."

"Ken--"

"Jun, forget him." Ken's voice was strained. "He's dead. He's no longer here. We have to accept that. We have to be objective."

Jun's voice quivered. "I know."

"What if this is yet another trap? We were already fooled by Getz."

"Yeah," Ryu said, "But then, why did that statue get blown up? Why did Getz wind up dead this way? In either situation, we could've been killed."

C'mon you idiots, will you just move on?

Finally, mercifully, they stopped talking, and Joe heard them pass below. Now they moved on their own, driven by curiosity. Joe lurked in the shadows, watching as they edged along a narrow ledge of stone and waded through knee-deep underground lakes.

"Are we there yet?" Jinpei said.

"Listen, smartass--"

"Ssh!" Ken snapped back. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what? I don't-- wait a second. Sounds like some kind of machinery."

All right, Joe thought. That's the base ahead. It's up to you.

And he left them there.

Joe felt like a load had been lifted from his shoulders as he left his old friends behind. Finding the nearest access to the surface, he moved through thick jungle growth toward the installation, homing in on the mountain in the center. He noticed that the buildings became more sparse and the trees thicker the closer he got to the mountain, with no access in sight.

Then he found a spot where the jungle growth had been trimmed back, and beneath, the entrance to a bunker made from the same kind of stone as the temple. Joe pulled the lock apart, slid the steel door aside and carefully checked before going in, but it appeared that the damp, musty corridor wasn't used often. The sounds of activity further back led him on.

He found the main corridor before long, and again he was shocked at the scale of the base. The schematics barely reflected the size of the operation. How incredible that these bastards could do so much work right under the ISO's noses, staying hidden in plain sight until it was time to attack. That had always been an infuriating ability of the Syndicate's. They couldn't be caught. The Kagaku Ninjatai couldn't be killed.

Sort of.

Voices and the clatter of boots on metal plating sounded ahead. Joe jumped up and flattened himself against the ceiling, watching the troops run past. They never looked up. After they passed, Joe realized he'd been carefully keeping his mantle from drooping down--an instinctive move. He hadn't switched out of Birdstyle, and decided not to do it now either. What a surprise that would be for anyone who found him.

Joe followed the troops, and the sound of a familiar laugh made him pick up the pace. Suddenly the corridor opened into a larger dome like an observatory, skylights crisscrossing the ceiling. In the middle of the room stood the leader he'd heard in the temple, glaring at a video screen. "What do you mean, they escaped?" she snarled. "How did they get past the Jinzo Robo?"

"I don't know, GelSadora-sama. The mecha was destroyed--it exploded. And Getz is dead. We found his body nearby."

"There's a traitor in our midst." She straightened. "Fine. Fire the Garender. Target ISO Headquarters."

A missile?

"But what about our op--"

"Just do it!" she screamed. "It'll be a message from Galactor to the rest of the world. We will not be trifled with!"

GelSadora-sama. Joe's eyes narrowed. She looks weirder than she sounds. He couldn't believe this was Katse's replacement. Something about her seemed wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe he had become too used to Katse and his own particular brand of nastiness.

No matter. A taicho is a taicho. If this one's incompetent, all the better for me.

Long lines of freestanding consoles formed a labyrinth across the floor of the dome, and Joe popped his head up briefly, trying to determine which areas were uninhabited by troops. Staying low, he threaded his way through, toward the center of the room.

The muffled sounds of explosions marked the beginning of the Team's attack on the base, and the buzz of activity in the control room increased. The cavalry was on the way.

Some of the consoles had removable panels on the sides to give access to the wiring. Joe pulled one panel aside and found enough room to slip inside without being visible from above.

"Thirty seconds to launch."

"Hurry it up!" She waved a fist. "Idiots!"

"Fifteen seconds."

Chortling, the woman-taicho danced on her heels. At this point, there was nothing Joe could do technically to stop the launch of the rocket. He could only hope that the team had put two and two together and assembled their heaviest artillery. But he couldn't wait long. Joe drew his airgun from the holster at his side and considered it. From his hiding place he had a clear shot. Killing the taicho would provide enough of a distraction to delay the launch, but he didn't know how long.

Quietly, he changed the weapon's load from hook point and line to live ammunition, then peered along the sight at the woman's face. The white mask covering her eyes and forehead didn't appear to be armored, but there was always that risk as well as the added disadvantage of a smaller target. Her chest appeared to be vulnerable. A chest shot, between the folds of her purple robe, might be a better option, but given the small size of the load, might not take her down as immediately as Joe would like. She'd have time to scream orders.

Still, she looked so wrong; out of place, more like a clown or a child playing dress-up, than the highest general of the Syndicate. Maybe she wasn't the only one--had they changed their structure?

Joe heard Ken's voice, a voice from long ago: "Sure, Katse is the head of operations. Sure he's our target, but he's a devil we know. By gunning him down so fast, we lose a known enemy, and he'll only be replaced by a second general. And a third."

This was by no means the entire body of Galactor. If Joe took this leader out, would she be replaced by someone more competent?

Rafael's voice: "Sosai X is the one we must destroy. All others are inconsequential."

Joe's gunsight moved from GelSadora's forehead to her chest, then from her chest to her shoulder, wavered. I can't wait too long, or she'll launch the rocket--

"Five seconds."

The shriek of alarms made everyone jump. Voices babbled as officers and techs scrabbled over their equipment. "What is it? What's wrong?" GelSadora shrieked.

"The Kagaku Ninjatai--they've found the control center!"

Outside, Joe heard the thump of explosions, the Dopplered roar of vehicles flying past. One tech ran directly past him, oblivious. Through the skylight he saw the quadruple-winged shadow of a plane pass directly overhead. The roar died and returned, and the plane circled overhead. That had to be Ken.

GelSadora chortled. "Those fools are firing at the Garender--they'll never take it down in time. Launch the missile now!"

Below her, Joe snarled, leveling the sight at her chest.

The thunder of approaching jet engines suddenly overrode the alarm, and the metal floor began to vibrate beneath Joe's knees. Through the narrow skylight of the dome, the red shadow of an aircraft bloomed in size. Realizing Ken's intent, Joe clamped both hands over his ears and retreated as far back into the open compartment as he could.

Above their heads, a bright red plane burst through the glass and tore through the chamber with the scorching blast of jet exhaust. The entire dome shimmied violently. Several of the techs went down, clutching their heads, blood leaking from their noses and ears. Then the plane crashed through the skylight on the opposite side and disappeared. The jet noise faded, then swelled again for another pass. Guards and techs ran around frantically, stepping over fallen bodies, and GelSadora screamed, "Close the blast shields now!"

Joe crawled back out of the compartment and stood, searching for the taicho, but she had flattened against the floor, obscuring his aim. The roar of engines faded and swelled again. This time, he thought, Ken should fly over, strafe the base and rattle the shields, but through the rapidly closing shutters, Joe saw the plane's shadow again, growing ominously larger with both missile launchers exposed.

Holy shit!

Joe cleared the banks of consoles and rushed for the nearest exit, bowling over two green-suits who were too startled to do anything but sprawl. Down the exit corridor and out the bolt-hole he raced until he stood, gasping for breath, in the jungle a quarter of a mile from the installation. He turned toward the dome just in time to see it explode.

Tossed by the blast, Ken's plane tumbled out of control. The small fighter righted itself and bellyflopped, tearing up the trees and kicking up undergrowth as it skidded through, then stopped with a solid whump. The fireball from the control center rolled over the jungle, setting the growth ablaze. Tropical birds fled in screeching clouds and the greenery spat angry sparks as it fed the flames.

"Ken!"

Even without the Birdstyle providing insulation, Joe's armored skin could withstand open flame, and Rafael had told him once that he could handle heavy smoke for a short time. If he went to the plane, Ken would see him. If he didn't, Ken would die.

Joe headed for the crash site at a dead run.

The light from the flames was almost blinding. Bits of burning branches rained down. Smoke and ashes swirled in furious currents of hot air, floating up beneath his visor and making his eyes water. He pulled his cape up around the lower half of his face to keep the worst of it out. In the midst of the shimmering heat, he caught sight of a metallic gleam and ran for it.

Ken's plane lay pinned beneath the split half of a massive tree trunk. Debris jammed the cockpit canopy shut. The canopy was shattered, so maybe Ken had crawled out... no, there was a flash of white inside.

Ken was strapped in the pilot's seat, out cold, blood on his face. Shit--how bad? The tree blocked Joe's way; there wasn't enough space to climb into the cockpit to pull Ken out, and the fire was moving in too fast for him to try and wrestle with the debris. Standing on a piece of broken branch to reach the cockpit, Joe reached for Ken's shoulder and called to him.

"Ken! C'mon, wake up! You're in danger here. Ken!"

The Gatchaman responded, opening eyes that were glassy with pain and shock. They focused on his friend for a second and went huge. "Joe!" he screamed. One hand hit the release for the seat harness, and the other yanked the canopy lever again. He tried to pull himself forward toward Joe, struggled weakly, then fell back. "Can't move," he ground through his teeth. "Hurts bad..."

Joe glanced around quickly. The flames were closing in on the plane, and the fuel tanks would ignite in a matter of seconds. Grimacing, he looked back at Ken. The pilot didn't appear to be pinned anywhere, just stunned.

"Snap out of it," he snarled urgently. "You don't have time to hurt. Grab my hand!"

This is going to hurt even more. I'm sorry.

Ken reached out with one straining hand. No time to be gentle; Joe reached in, grabbed, and with a powerful yank, hauled Ken's body out of the fighter. The Gatchaman's cape and boots protected him from the razor edges of the broken canopy, but the force of the yank dislocated his shoulder. He cried out, then went limp.

Gritting his teeth at the damage he must be doing, Joe hoisted Ken roughly in his arms, turned his back on the wreck and leaped.

The jet exploded.

The blast came just as Joe's feet touched the ground nearly eighty yards from the wreck. It yanked the earth from under him. Joe hurled himself forward, then rolled to shield Ken's body with his own. The fireball rolled over them, and fragments of wood, rock and metal shrapnel whistled past like bullets. Several pieces struck Joe's back, bouncing off his mantle; though they didn't do any damage, the force of the impact rattled him. One struck the back of Joe's helmet and he both heard and felt the superhard polymer alloy ring with the impact. Shades of another shrapnel hit, years ago....

Third big explosion today, he thought with a half grin. This is getting old.

The firestorm blew past, leaving the brush in flames. Joe sat up and looked at Ken. The Gatchaman was still out cold, face gray under the beak visor. Blood trickled along the inside of the clear blue plex. Joe's gut twisted. "Don't you dare die on me," he whispered, then used two fingers to probe beneath the thick collar. He felt a pulse, rapid but strong.

The transmitter at his belt let out a beep. Joe pulled it off and flipped the cover back so that the device resembled a cellular phone. "Yeah."

Rafael's voice: "Meet me at the south cove where you landed."

"Can't do that," Joe told him grimly. "I have my hands full. There've been some complications."

There was a pause, then, "I understand. Is he conscious?"

"No." Joe looked at the spreading flames. "I have to move him."

"Be careful. Get to a safe area and leave the transmitter on. I'll come to you."

"Bring your little black bag with you?"

"Now why would an old physician do that?" There was a grin in his voice. "Rafael out." Joe rehung the transmitter on his belt, shaking his head. You old bastard, how did you know?

As gently as he could, he lifted Ken's body in a fireman's carry, then moved quickly through the burning forest and toward the sea, using a fluid cat-step to keep from jostling his burden. Even so, Ken bounced bonelessly on his shoulders and Joe prayed he wasn't hurting him worse.

He didn't know when he started swearing under his breath, but the words became a litany that punctuated every four steps: "Ken, you moron! Of all the damn-fool, hot headed, stupid showcase stunts you've ever pulled in your short goddamn life, this takes the fuckin' cake! Dive-bombing an enclosed armored fortress, you stupid asshole, trying to fuckin' kill yourself, after all the times you said just one death would devastate the team, you crazy bastard...."

When Rafael arrived at the clearing, his eyebrows went up at what he saw: Joe in his old crimson and indigo with the Gatchaman at his feet, lying on the Condor's detached cape. "I thought you wanted to avoid these people," he said. Joe glared at him, but didn't reply.

Rafael spread a small rubberized mat on the ground, then helped Joe ease Ken onto the mat. Joe removed Ken's helmet carefully, then followed with the gloves and boots. Under Joe's sharp scrutiny, the doctor checked Ken over. To Joe's relief, he found the blood had come from a scalp wound just above the hairline and that the wound had clotted well. "No signs of broken bones; could be a concussion, but I doubt it," Rafael said. "He's singed, cut, bruised up... should be watched for effects of trauma. The worst is his shoulder. We should get it back in place before he wakes up." Joe nodded, frowning.

They turned Ken on his side, onto his good shoulder. Rafael gently maneuvered his arm and shoulder into position, then showed Joe where to grip and where to pull. As gently and firmly as he could, Joe did as he was told, and as the joint popped back into place with a sickening crunch, he winced, grateful that Ken wasn't awake to feel it.

"He should be all right after some rest," Rafael said. "Though I'd have him in the hospital for a couple of days at least." He looked up at Joe--the dark Condor hovering over his fallen leader. "Why don't you stay with him? Go back with your friends?"

"What about your plans?"

"Just as long as you respond when I call you, I don't see any conflict of interest. You're bound to meet with your team again, so you might as well coordinate your efforts."

Joe shook his head. "No, I don't want to do that," he muttered, unaware that the slump of his shoulders and the tightness around his eyes told a far different story.

"After Getz, Dr. Nambu will probably be more careful, but he will still have to call in another replacement for you."

"I know that."

"You can go either way, you know. Stay with me and fight X alone, or rejoin your friends and use their strength and resources."

"I'm dead to them," Joe said flatly. Again he heard Jun screaming his name, her voice echoing through the cold stone corridors. He shook the memory away and swept his mantle back around his shoulders, fastening the double clasp beneath his collar.

Rafael stared at the young man as if searching his face for some sort of affirmation, and Joe turned his back, cutting him off. The old doctor grunted to himself.

"The rest of your friends will be here soon. I'll meet you back at the lab after I tie up some loose ends."

"All right." With one last look at Ken, Joe left.

Once out of sight, he switched out of Bird-style and changed back to the tight grey uniform he had "borrowed" from the Tiger troops. Time to change again, from Condor to cyborg vigilante... he wasn't sure which identity was more disconcerting. He packed his old clothes away, but instead of going to the boat he had stashed in the cove below, he headed back toward Dr. Rafael and Ken. He could hear the chorus of voices as the Team discovered the doctor and his patient.

One tiny string of unauthorized code, that was all it took. They were lucky just to get that, and even luckier to be searching for it when it happened. The short transmission, broadcast from G-Town at six in the morning, had set off an alarm in the command center Julia had set up in the ISO building. Where, for several days, four shifts of technicians had surveyed every phone call, every email, every delivery... even the commercial radio piping a steady diet of "soft rock" into the building for its employees. They had traced the signal here. Unfortunately, the agent had heard them coming, and had opened fire the moment the door opened. Julia caught only a split-second glimpse of his face before her return fire brought him down.

"Takashi," Julia wheezed from the corner, trying to look at him through the bodies of the paramedics. "What've you got?"

"Nothing yet, Boss."

"Julia, hold still, will you?" snapped one of the medics. "Put your arms down--we can do this on our own. Act like someone who's been shot, dammit!"

She ground her teeth, fighting not to moan as pain lanced through her side. The paramedics finally loosened the armored vest beneath her blouse, exposing the vivid purple blooms across her skin.

"No bullet wounds, no external bleeding. That doesn't rule out internal, but your BP's good for now. You are one lucky lady. The vest caught both shots. Get the stretcher down here!"

"If I were that lucky, I'd know what just got through to our friends outside."

"That you are, Boss." Takashi shouldered aside one of the paramedics to kneel beside her. He grinned. "It was an order from our friend Getz to pull out. Your target was broadcasting the coordinates to G-Town when you nailed him."

"Good. Send that to Kamo-gishicho and tell him I suggest they move. And keep looking! Where there's one roach hidden in the works, there's bound to be more."

"Got it." Takashi stood and left the room as the stretcher appeared, and four paramedics carefully hoisted the security chief onto it.

The hawk pulled out a loose feather. Rafael took it and threw--perfect dart toss--and the feather stuck in the wall. The Team gaped.

"Wait," Ken said. "You're saying you made the feather we found in Getz's throat?"

"Not at all," Rafael pulled another feather shuriken from his pants pocket and handed it to Ken. "I've found plenty of these over the years. They handle beautifully--excellent balance. I have more, if you'd like to see them."

Jun's shoulders sagged. The others stared at Dr. Rafael.

"I'm sure we'll see each other again." The old physician grinned, picked up his bag and walked out of the cave.

Jinpei and Ryu followed him. Jun knelt beside Ken just a moment longer and whispered, "Are you all right?"

"Aa," he said, not looking at her.

"Something's not right here," she frowned, "but I'm not sure what it is."

"Aa." He nodded slightly. He was waiting for her to leave; Jun took the hint and walked out with one last look behind her.

Once Ken knew he was alone, he scanned the room carefully, eyes sharp. Joe felt a twinge of apprehension--had he been found out? No, Ken couldn't possibly see him behind the ledge. Joe saw the Gatchaman's eyes glaring straight at him and his breathing stopped. Then Ken's gaze moved on.

"I know you're here," Ken said in a whisper, then he raised his voice so that it echoed off the stone walls. "I know you're here, and I know you're watching me! Step out here and show yourself! Tell me why you helped us! Tell me who you are!"

There was so much of the old command in his voice, Joe nearly obeyed. He stopped himself just in time, flattening himself hard against the stone.

Ken waited, and after what seemed an eternity, stood up, shoulders slumped. "There's nothing for you to fear. All I want is to know why."

Again he listened, hoping. The echoes of his voice died into silence.

His voice lowered. "I'll find you eventually." He turned and walked slowly for the door, then turned back. "Make no mistake."

Then he left.

Joe waited for the sound of his footsteps to fade, then feeling more exhausted than he had in a long time, he sagged against the stone wall and sighed. Joe didn't leave his hiding place until he heard the distant roar of the New Godphoenix departing from the island.