COMCON BASE
TWO MONTHS LATER

John Hedges was concerned. Splatterpunk and his fake Anarchists have wrought some unholy havoc all over the place. But no sign of Bolan or Jones.

He really wanted to believe that they were dead. But, he knew better than to underestimate those two fucks.

Two months and still nothing.

He was pacing in the control room.

"Any reports on the Sentencer and The Executioner?" He asked.

"Nothing sir." A techie answered.

"Goddammit."

"It's possible that-"

"Yeah, yeah. They could be dead in a gutter somewhere. Or maybe got depressed and committed suicide or maybe just plain gave up. But I don't believe any of that shit. I wanna see their fucking corpses. I want Splatterpunk to be the one to rip them apart. I want to be sure, goddammit. Keep an eye out."

"Yes, sir. Sir the operative is coming back from his latest assignment."

"Fine. Have him come to my office. I'm going there now."

"Yes, sir."

A MINUTE LATER...

"No." Knox said. "I ain't seen neither of them."

"Sure?"

"I will never forget that fuckin' nigger, boss. What's up?"

"Two months. Nothing. I don't like it."

"I wouldn't worry about it, boss. We'll hear about them soon enough."

"Yeah, we probably-"

Alarms blared.

"What the fuck?" Hedges said. It took him a split second to recognize the Red Alert. The base was under attack. But that was impossible. How-

He rushed to the control room, followed by Splatterpunk.

They were being attacked by a fleet of state of the art stealth choppers, the kind COMCON had the last time around, some Hueys, some Apaches. They were feeling the tremors from rocket blasts and explosions. Their troops were being hosed down. The attack was coming from all sides.

It was war. At their very doorstep.

Bolan. Jones. Had to be.

"But how the Christ did they find us?" Hedges said. "How..? Never mind. Get Splatterpunk ready. Send out the troops. We're this close to winning, those fuckers are NOT gonna beat us!"

"PAYBACK TIME, YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!"GRIMALDI bellowed as he unleashed 20mm fury upon the COMCON troops.

He fired Hellfire rockets at some of the vehicles, SUV, tanks, armoured vehicles, dodging enemy rockets and machine gunfire with almost magical skill, Bolan though. The Huey was literally an extension of his body and soul. He’d never flown like this. Each explosion was a release for Jack, and Bolan knew it and felt as well.

"Hit'em hard and fast!" The woman named Misty Monroe yelled on the radio waves. "This is it! Don't give them a chance to recover! We're not getting a second chance at this!

Bolan was at one door, mowing tangoes down with the M-134 GE Mini-Gun. Jones was on the other end, with a MK-19 40mm grenade launcher.

This was absolute war. Hell. Carnage. Chaos. Fire. Screams. This was what Bolan was born for. And he could help but think Jones was also feeling at home amidst all of this.

Bolan willed his mind back to the task at hand.

COMCON HQ was a typical enough looking base. A big rectangular structure, one level. It has some serious defences. A couple of choppers from the Fifth Column attack force were blown out of the sky.
More casualties.

Focus. Focus on the job.

"Jones!" He said." Gear up! We're hitting the ground!"

"Roger!" Jones shouted back.

Jones put the special gear on. Meanwhile, some of the choppers were concentrating their fire on the building.
The troops were reeling. They seemed almost to be backing off from the Fifth Column’s righteous fury.

It was Judgement Day. Maybe for all involved here.

Bolan was ready. So was Jones.

Jack brought the chopper down.

"This is it, Sarge." He said. "Sarge...Mack..."His eyes were welling up. "I..."

"I know, Jack. I know." Bolan said. "Same here."

"You know, in case...if we don't..." Jack said.

"I'll see you on the other side, brother." Mack said.

They shook hands. They took a second for an embrace.

"Jones." Jack called out to the Sentencer." It's been an honour."

"Likewise." Jones said.

"Fuck that fucker the fuck up." Jack spat.

"That's the plan." Jones said.

They exchanged nods and Jones moved out. Bolan threw a last glance at Jack. And jumped off the chopper. And it took off.

Soon The Executioner and The Sentencer met up with Misty Monroe and Harmon and more troops on the ground.

"We're gonna take the building! "Monroe said. "Kill everything in sight!"

"Simple enough plan." Bolan said. "I want whoever's in charge."

"Splatterpunk's mine." Jones said.

"I like motivated troops. Let's go!" Monroe said. She threw Jones a glance and what almost seemed like a smile. Hmm, Bolan thought.

Except for Jones, the rest of the Column Five soldiers were wearing level 3 body armor, black fatigues and were carrying assault rifles. AR-15/M-203, or M4-M203 combos with 100 round drum mags.

Some COMCON soldiers were coming straight at them with their own assault weapons. Each downed COMCON trooper felt a bit like retribution for all of their victims. Not enough, but something.

"DIIIIIE, YOU FUCKERS!" An inhuman voice bellowed.

It was Splatterpunk 2. Riding on top of a SUV, heading towards them.

"Go. "Jones said. "I got this."

Bolan and Jones exchanged a glance and a nod.

Jones fired a 40mm HE at the upcoming SUV. Splatterpunk leapt before the grenade hit. The SUV and it's occupants blew up as 340 pounds of enhanced biomechanical psychotic fury leapt at him, a huge gleaming blade in hand. Jones tossed the rifle aside and stood his ground.

He waited. He waited.

As Splatterpunk was almost on him, Jones leapt sideways, to his right, and as the super-maniac flew by, threw a right hook at the cyborg's temple.

The cyber-murderer's flight trajectory changed in mid air, Jones landed firmly on his feet, Splatterpunk flew 20 feet sideways and slid across the ground, another 20 feet.

He shook his head groggily. He stood and rose his head only to see Jones come at him again, this time with a leaping sidekick that connected with his face and sent him flying backwards again, sliding across the ground.

The nanoenhanced killer's cervical vertebrae had been dislocated. He had to take a second to adjust them. The tissue was healing already. He was dizzy, but recuperating fast.

Jones had to keep pressing him. Using his skill, determination and the state-of-the-art exoskeleton he was wearing underneath his fatigues. It gave anyone who wore it the strength to lift 1000 pounds, plus the natural strength of the user. It barely hindered speed, flexibility and agility. Long, one-inch thick pieces of hyper light plastic alloy was against his flesh, against his limbs, no more encumbering as leather straps.
And Jones trained fanatically with for the two months he and his allies were preparing this assault.

"I don't know how you got this strong, nigger, but I'm still gonna wear your guts as a necklace!" Splatterpunk yelled.

"Let's go." Jones told him.

And they both ran at each other, with the battle still raging around them.

HEDGES WAS WATCHING IN HORROR AS HIS SOLDIERS SEEMED TO BE BACKING OFF from the assault. Impossible. And The Sentencer seemed to have acquired...fucking super-powers like a goddamn comic book hero! His brute strength seemed to match Knox's.

Hedges didn't know who Bolan's army was, but he was damned if he was gonna let The Executioner and his friends take victory away from him!

"Sir, they broke into the building! They are invading the base. "A flunky yelled in a panicky voice.

"I can see that, you imbecile, send more troops, we still outnumber them, goddammit, KILL THEM!"

ONCE INSIDE, BOLAN WAS LEADING THE CHARGE, HOLDING TWIN M-16/M-203 combos. Two HE grenades sent seven COMCON storm troopers into oblivion, while Harmon and Monroe were hosing down the next wave coming at him. The hallway walls were covered in brains and viscera.

"The other teams have also broken in the building!" Monroe said. "There is some resistance, but they are doing all right so far. They are finding labs and high-tech stuff. They set charges for demolition."

"There must be some kind of command center." Bolan said. "They are probably monitoring all this from somewhere."

Bolan looked at Harmon. She hadn't said a word in a while, which was uncharacteristic from her.

"You okay, soldier. "Bolan asked.

"Oh, yeah. Never better. As horrible as it's going to sound, I almost feel good." Harmon said. " God. I think I'll profile myself next."

"It's a catharsis. You've seen so much, you feel something close to elation now." Bolan said.

"I guess. You’re not bad at profiling yourself." Harmon said.

"A lifetime on the field has taught me a lot." Bolan said. "And-"

Bolan stopped in midsentence as more storms troopers came from around the next corner and the air was filled with brass, lead and gun smoke.

THE EXOSKELETTON GAVE JONES POWER, BUT DIDN'T MAKE HIM IMPERVIOUS TO PAIN.

He was reminded of that as he went down, sliding on the ground for the third time in a row, after having knocked down by Splatterpunk. He spit blood and teeth. His eye was swollen shut. He had broken ribs. He had a broken leg. He had a concussion. He was almost gutted by that huge knife of 'Punk's. Jones had been able to disarm and knock the knife away.

"I ain't playin' with you, nigger, you're gonna die."

"Sooner or later." Jones said as the cyborg was rushing him. He leapt and kicked 'Punk in the throat.
"Maybe even today." Jones sent a finger jab in the maniac's eyes. The eyes were destroyed. "But-" Jones kicked in the throat again. "You-" Jones punched Punk to the head."-won't-" Uppercut"-be-" Spinning heel kick at the head "-the one-" Low kick at the right kneecap. "-to do it!-" Low kick at the left kneecap. Both knees dislocated, Punk was grounded again. Jones stomped on the shoulders and elbows.

"Raah! You fucker! I'll drink your blood!" Punk screamed. "I'll wipe my ass with your black fukcing skin, you fucking nigger!"

"No you won't." Jones said coldly. "But you can do something else for me."

BOLAN WAS COVERED IN BLOOD. FORTUNATELY, IT WAS THE ENEMY's BLOOD. The Executioner and his allies were on top of the enemy, but they were half a second faster than the storm troopers. But the brief and intense close quarters firefight had cost the life a several Fifth Column warriors. Harmon and Monroe were still alive.

"Up ahead." Bolan said. "Looks like what we're looking for."

"How do we get through that door?" Harmon said.

Bolan reloaded his twin M-203 and fired both HE rounds at the door. It was blown inwards and fell inside.

Bolan, Harmon and Monroe walked inside. All three were down to handguns and subgun. Full 9mm Glock 18s for he ladies, Big Thunder and the Beretta 93R for Bolan. It was a huge room, with computers and monitors all over.

Twenty armed COMCON soldiers stood around a man whose stance and swagger told Bolan this was the man in charge, responsible for all the atrocities.

"I'm John Hedges, Bolan. I'm the guy who'll do the job Jack Newport fucked up."

Bolan said nothing. He wanted nothing more but to kill him.

"You lost two thirds of your invasion force." Hedges said. "You'll die here and nobody will ever know. We're hurt, but we'll come back soon enough and try again."

Bolan squinted. He was filling with bloodlust.

"It's been a pleasure killing everybody you cared about Bolan."Hedges said with a smile. "But, hey, don't fret, because very soon, you'll join them."

Bolan's blood was boiling. He was about to at least take a shot at the bastard when a big THOOM was heard. Like a battering ram. Then another. Then another.

"What the hell-"Hedges said.

It was coming from a wall on the right.

THOOM!

All guns were pointed towards the noise.

THOOM!

The wall cracked.

THOOM!

Some large chunks fell in.

THOOM!

It crumpled and something-no someone was flung inside like a ragdoll. It sailed several feet in the air and slid on the ground.

It was a large headless corpse. Hedges eyes went wide with horror when he recognized Splatterpunks's corpse. But where was-

"You looking for this?"A strong voice boomed.

It was Luther Jones. And he was holding the cyborg's head by the hair in one hand, and Punk's big knife, slick with blood in the other. He limped in to the room. The head still held up high. Bolan caught the look in Jones' one good eye. It was cold and determined. Despite what must have been a hideous fight.

"Kill him!" Hedges said.

The soldiers hesitated.

"KILL HIM!" Hedges screamed.

Some glanced at the headless Splatterpunk. Jones pulled out his 50AE Desert Eagle. Bolan understood what was happening. The shocktroops were..SCARED of Jones. He'd just killed the ultimate killing machine with his no weapon besides the knife.

"GODDAMNIT! YOU BASTARDS! SHOOT THEM!" Hedges shrieked.

"If you insist", Jones said, shooting a COMCON trooper in the head. The man's skull exploded like a ripe tomato.

Harmon, Monroe and Bolan cut loose with their weapons. Armor piercing slugs in full auto burts tearing into chests and vital organs. The stunned soldiers lost more than half their number in the initial onslaught.

Jones took six of them out, one at a time with his 50AE. When Bolan ran out with the 93R, he leapt and grabbed a dead man's HK MP5 and hosed down the rest of the troops.

And there was no-one but Bolan, Harmon, Monroe, Jones and Hedges. Jones aimed Big Thunder at Hedges.

"Fuck off, Bolan! Fuck off and go to hell!" Hedges screamed.

"You first." Bolan said.

Bolan shot Hedges in the head. Twice. The head vanished in a crimson mist. He then lowered the smoking Big Thunder. Monroe went for the computer consoles while Jones approached Harmon and Bolan.

"He did a number on you." Harmon said with a smile.

"You should see the other guy." Jones said.

"Are you Ok?" Bolan asked.

"I'm alive" Jones said. Bolan realized that Jones was still standing on pure will power.

"Close enough." Bolan said. "You took your time."

"Didn't have a bus or 20mm Cannon handy."

"Good points."

"My God." Monroe said. "We hit the jackpot."

"Why?" Bolan asked.

"All of their sleeper agents. God, there's a lot of them." Monroe said.

"Looks we still got work to do." Bolan said.

The survivors went outside. The battle had ended. Fifth Column took heavy casualties. There was les then a third of survivors.

Several choppers had landed. Some were burning hulks. And Bolan recognized one.

"Jack..."Bolan ran towards it.

There was little to nothing that was recognizable. The body was blackened. But he saw it was his old friend.

"Rest in peace, brother." Bolan said. He shut his eyes. Shed a tear and walked away.

The survivors went into separate helos and they took off.

When they were far enough: Monroe said into a mike. "Sanitize the site."

The island vanished into a huge mushroom. The other ground teams had to plant nukes on the base to make sure nothing and no one survived. But they had to make sure they retrieved all the intel they could before doing so, which is why they didn't just nuke it at the beginning.

But, it wasn't over yet.

TWO MONTHS LATER
DENVER

The press was still talking about the unspeakable acts of carnage that shook the nation in many major cities. Alos, many figureheads in municipal, state and federal governments were assassinated.

Then, it was over.

Harmon, Jones, Monroe and Bolan looked at each other.

"We won." Monroe said.

"This battle." Bolan said. "The war rages on."

"War Everlasting." Jones said.

"Yes." Bolan said. "There will be other threats, other monsters...and we must be ready."

"Eternal Vigilance." Harmon said.

"Something like that." Bolan said with a smile.

Bolan has lost a lot in this battle. Friends. Lovers. Family. More friendly ghosts to haunt his dreams. But he had a new family. And he still had his crusade.

There will always be a need for shadow warriors.

And The Guilty Will Be Sentenced. And Executed.