Part 4

The Last Temptation of Richard Sugrue
The Last Sacrifice of an Old Friend
A Few Last Additions to the Plan

Silas had managed to limp all the way from the engine room, around the field of battle, and into the processing plant near the gates. The processing plant, into which led the conveyor belts for the entire scrap metal yard, was unimaginably massive. It stretched into dusty obscurity as far as the eye could see. All the conveyor belts, three across the ceiling and one on either side of the doorway, ran to the back wall of the place, directly into a gargantuan blast furnace. The furnace was lit, and a fire raged inside. The opening to the furnace was thirty feet wide by twenty feet tall.
To the far left of the vast interior were shadowy side rooms and a steep steel staircase leading to the roof.
To the far right were rows of vats filled with molten steel. Above these vats was a serious of iron buckets, which traveled from under a spout near the furnace, into the air on twin cables, and over the pools of melted metal.
Two heavy iron doors closed off the entrance to the plant, and two more, even thicker, blocked the furnace. Both pairs were currently open.

The shades of evening were beginning to fall, giving the scrap yard an otherworldly look. The last rays of the setting sun reached desperately around the frames of the mountains of ruined metal and massive machinery, silhouetting them against the dark sky. Richard ran panting to the entrance of the processing plant. He looked in and saw Blake.
“Silas, stop!” yelled Richard from the doorway, his voice echoing through the clanking, cavernous factory.
At the top landing of the staircase, Silas halted, sighed, and turned around. He looked down at his incorrigible foe with understanding, and a little impatience, but not surprise.
“When will you give up this foolishness, hero?” he asked. “I’ve won. The world is mine, and you can’t stop me.”
“Leave that for me to decide.”
“You just can’t quit, can you?”
“Look, Silas, there are only five things I’ve ever quit in my life: Gymnastics, theatre class, the Air Force, Sr. Marlene’s English class, and orgies. The last of which I was rather good at. I will not quit when my friends’ lives are threatened. I will not quit when a villain is about to escape. I cannot quit when the fate of the world is at stake.”
At this Silas gave a hollow, mirthless laugh.
“What world? A world populated by ignorant, inconsiderate morons? A world in which wealthy countries waste enough food each day to feed the entire population? A world in which wars are fought over a fuel source which pollutes and ruins? A world in which rivers, lakes, and streams are contaminated? Where forests are decimated to make cardboard? Where species go extinct and criminals thrive? A world in which all the best shows on FOX are cancelled before their prime, or left to rot like The Simpsons? A world in which you will never amount to your full potential because of the restrictions of society? A world in which you will seemingly never know a woman’s love?”
Richard was speechless.
“As I’ve said before,” Silas went on, “I know you. You want this plague as much as I do. Let me go do my work and the earth will be returned to its natural, pure state. It will be a world where you have a chance to excel on your own terms. How about it? Let me go.”
For several long moments, Richard said nothing.He thought about political corruption, about deforestation, overpopulation, and pollution. He thought about ignorance, intolerance, and greed.
Then he thought about his friends and family. He thought about their friends, and their families. He thought about everyone from his 96-year-old aunt to his 2-year-old cousin. He pictured Tony and Brendan and Dan. EJ and Andrew and Steve. He thought of Sam. With a rueful smile he thought of Pawel. He thought of Caitlin.
Still, he said nothing.
He then thought of Silas and the Umbrella Corporation. He thought about what a world run by them would be like.
“No,” he said flatly. He raised his laser rifle.
Silas gaped.
“What do you mean ‘no’? You hate this world!”
Richard smiled.
“I do. But I love it as well. And there are other ways to change than destroying it.”
“You pansy!” Silas yelled. “I knew you didn’t have the guts! All talk until your friends and family are threatened.”
“No,” said Richard again. “I’m not doing this for them. To be honest, they’re expendable. To restore the earth to her pristine state, to end hate, greed, and ignorance, to wipe out two thirds of the population, I would gladly sacrifice myself and every one of them. Every friend. My entire family. It’d be worth the loss.”
“Then why?”
“Because you won’t end hate, greed, and intolerance. You’ll proliferate them. You’re not offering a more perfect world. You’re offering your world.”
“Well what about varying perspective? Who’s to say they’re not the same thing?”
“Me.”
Richard fired his laser rifle. The shot took Silas in the thigh. His leg went numb and he collapsed onto the landing.
“You stupid bastard!” he screeched, holding his tingling thigh.
“Sorry, Silas.”
“No, you’re not,” Silas said. “But you will be.”
He produced a small remote control device and entered a code into the keypad. Out of a dark side room came the two missing deathbots on their rumbling, spiked treads.
Richard turned to fire at them, got off one shot, and then had to dive behind a gigantic iron bucket.
Silas hobbled up the metal steps and disappeared through the rooftop access door.
The two deathbots closed in, firing their lasers relentlessly at iron shield, slowly chipping it away.
Just as Richard thought he was finished (for what was probably the fifth time in as many hours) he heard a familiar horn, saw two glaring headlights, and gazed in disbelief as a midnight blue streak tore into the vast room, missiles blasting, and shot the tracks out from under the one of the deathbots. The other turned too slowly to stop this lightning bolt of dark azure from colliding into it and knocking it across the room onto its side.
As that deathbot struggled to right itself, the mysterious machine that had come to Richard’s rescue pulled to a stop beside him and idled quietly.
Richard reached out and touched the powerful automobile, and breathlessly uttered one word:
“Pachuco.”
Indeed. The vehicle before him was none other than his beloved “tough guy,” long missing and presumed totaled.
He rubbed his fingers gently over the dented, rusting chassis which still gleamed a dull, deep blue.
“It’s good to see you again, boy,” said Richard, choking back tears.
The car revved quietly to say that the feeling was mutual.
“How did this happen?” Richard asked. “How did you end up here?”
Through a series of honks and revs, Pachuco related the tale of how the diabolical Umbrella Corporation had sabotaged his motor belt, leaving Richard with no choice but to donate the majestic vehicle for spare parts. Unbeknownst to Richard, however, the Umbrella Corporation owned the auto yard to which Pachuco was sent. For months, Dr. Thaddeus Trans had overseen the torture of the great Pachuco in an attempt to gain more information on the heroes’ plans and movements. The brave Oldsmobile had revealed nothing.
Then, when Silas came into power, and Trans was reduced to a mere shell, Pachuco had been sent to the scrap metal processing plant. Silas had no more interest in the car and scheduled it for destruction.
Pachuco had been chained to a wall in a back room, but the force of the gates being blown apart had loosened the mortar, and after an hour of pulling he had come loose.
“I’m so sorry, Chuke,” Richard said, patting the car.
Pachuco idled a gentle “I forgive you.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter now boy, we’re together.”
Suddenly the trackless deathbot fired a missile into the car’s flank, blasting off the rear left door. Pachuco rocked on his tires, settled, then spun around and fired a missile at the deathbot, blowing it to pieces.
The second robot had righted itself, and fired its twin laser canons. The shots missed, deflected off of the iron bucket. Richard grabbed his laser rifle and looked through the scope at the mechanical menace.
The deathbot was continuing to fire, but a panel opened and a digital clock appeared. It was slowly counting down from two minutes.
“Chuke!” yelled Rich, “It’s activated an explosive device. The thing’s gonna blow in two!”
The car revved concernedly then tore out from behind the shield and charged the deathbot. The machine’s laser canons glanced off of Pachuco’s glittering blue chassis and the vehicle kept going. The deathbot fired missiles now. One missed, but the other hit Pachuco’s windshield, ripping the roof off the car and shattering the glass. The now-convertible Pachuco still drove onward, finally reaching the robot, which lashed out with its pincer arms just in time to stop the car from crashing into it. The deathbot engaged its tracks and an astounding pushing match began.
The spiked tracks of the deathbot and the tires of Pachuco ground into the muddy cement floor of the factory. The pulse back and forth was even for a time. One would gain ground, the other loose, and then the reverse. Pachuco spun his tires and the hulking metallic combatants slowly began to turn. Eventually the deathbot, its pincers now digging into Pachuco’s hood and bumper, had its back to the blast furnace.
Sensing the danger it was in, the monstrous robot redoubled its efforts and Pachuco began to slide backward.
“Chuke! What are you doing?!” Rich yelled.Hearing his friend’s voice, the car pushed back, all six cylinders of it’s mighty engine blasting. The deathbot was forced backward toward the gaping fiery maw of the blast furnace. With unrelenting force, Pachuco strove forward.The deathbot fired all its laser weapons, but even at such close range, its attempts were in vain. Pachuco surged forward.
Richard ran to his beloved vehicle, laser rifle at the ready, and blasted at the deathbot. Taking careful aim, he shot at a weak point, a section of exposed neck where the heavy armor had fallen loose.
The evil machine’s bulky head flew off in a shower of sparks and flame and landed with a bang near Richard. Its single glowing eye went dim.
Pachuco continued to push, however, straight toward the blast furnace. Richard ran to his car’s side.
“Chukester . . . buddy . . .. What are you doing?”
The car revved loudly.
“What do you mean you’re stuck?”
The car revved again and Richard looked to the hood and bumper where the deathbot’s talon-like pincers were still locked.
He ran to the front of the cart and tried to wrench the claws loose, but to no avail. He shot desperately at the thick, metal arms of the mechanical beast, but his blasts ricocheted off.
“No!” he cried.
He looked at the countdown clock on the robot’s chest. Forty-five seconds left.
“Pachuco, there has to be another way! Listen to me!”
The car revved.
“No! I won’t leave you! I love you, Chuke!”
The car’s engine gurgled softly, reciprocating the sentiment.
Richard stayed where he was, trotting alongside the vehicle as it pushed inexorably toward fiery doom.
Pachuco revved another command to Richard.
“Leave now!”
With a last surge of strength, Pachuco pushed himself and the decapitated deathbot into the flames. The car honked a last order and the massive furnace doors began to close.
Richard took a final look at his friend and ran to the doorway. He made it out of the factory, pulled the switch controlling the entrance, and the heavy metal doors slid closed just in time.The blast raged briefly inside the processing plant, and the doors creaked on their hinges, but held. When the explosion had subsided, the old brick building sagged slightly.
Richard’s eyes filled with tears. He sunk to his knees on the muddy ground and sobbed gently, alone.
The heroes’ camp was buzzing with activity as Richard stumbled back some time later. Caitlin was conversing with the Cap’n as the NP Inc agents descended from helicopters hovering over the battlefield. With startling efficiency, they bound the Umbrella Corp soldiers in energy shackles and loaded them onto the gun ships for transport to the Ninja Pirate holding cells. Elsewhere in the area, wounds were being mended, vehicles repaired, weapons collected. Dan and Tony, who had been anxiously looking for Richard since the Cap’n’s narrative had concluded, spotted him and rushed over.
Richard’s shoulders were low, his eyes were red rimmed, but now tearless. He looked dazed.
“Rich, what’s wrong?” Dan asked.
“Indeed,” said Tony, “you don’t look so good. Mind you, I’m not even talking about all the cuts, bruises, burns, and the gallons of mud which are covering your exterior. You look devastated.”
Richard looked at his two friends as though he didn’t know them.
“Pachuco,” he said.
“Your old car?” Dan asked.
“What about ol’ Chuke?” inquired Tony.
“Dead.” Richard said tonelessly. “Gone. Gave his life for me. I tried to stop him. Wouldn’t listen. Why wouldn’t he listen?”
Tony and Dan exchanged puzzled looks.
“Care to give the full story, amigo?”
Richard did not elaborate, however, but brushed wordlessly past his confused friends and made his way towards the circle of cars. He had covered half the distance when he bumped rudely in Steph, who was carrying an armful of UC laser rifles to Pat Dandrea’s van.
“Jeez, Rich,” she said as the weapons tumbled out of her hand, “I didn’t see you there.” She looked more closely at him. “What happened?”
Richard turned a vacant gaze her way, “Why wouldn’t he listen to me? Had to be another way . . ..”
Steph did not stand in indecision like Tony and Dan had. She knew what to do. Without a moment’s hesitation, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Richard staggered backward. His legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground. He sat in the mud, rubbing his flaring cheek and bleeding lip, staring up at Steph with fire in his eyes.
The sophomore stood over him and peered down with a confusing mix of contempt and concern. One hand was on her hip; the other was still poking out of the sling.
“Listen, Rich. I understand you’re upset over something. I want to talk with you and help you through it, but at the proper time and place. Now, you need to pull yourself together!”
“How dare you!” Richard yelled. “You have no idea what I’ve been through today. I just lost a friend!”
Steph was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
Then she got through to Richard.
“You lost your friend. What would that friend say to you now? What if that your friend saw you like this, wallowing in grief. We need you, Rich. You’re a cornerstone to this operation. Things will fall apart without you, damnit! Now we’ve won this battle, but we’re not done yet!” She reached out her good hand and pulled him up.
Richard smiled. “Thanks, Steph. I needed that. And you’re right; we’re not done yet. Not by a long shot.” He stooped to help Steph gather the rifles and then started off toward Caitlin and the Cap’n. The he turned back to Steph.
“Hey, could I have one more?”
“No, you pervert! Now get to work!” She took off to Dandrea’s van.

Richard made his way over to where Steve was attending the countless injuries of the small band of heroes. As he approached, Steve was leaning over Mike Pytka, shining a small pen light into his eyes. Mike had just regained consciousness after being tragically cut down in friendly fire.
"How ya feelin', Mike?" Steve asked.
"I had a wonderful dream. I was a swashbuckling hero, and I was fabulous!" he looked around at the bustling adventurers in the camp, and then at Steve. "The weirdest thing was that you were there, and you were there, and you were there."
Steve raised an eyebrow.
Mike leapt up and hugged him.
"Oh, there's no place like home, Antie Em!"
Steve looked uncomfortable at first, but soon hugged right back.
"He's gonna be alright."
"Good to see you up and about, Mike," Richard said as he strode into view. he turned his attention to Steve.
"So, how goes it? Any serious injuries?"
"Well, thay mob doctor sure knew his stuff, and the NP Inc agents brought along some first aid kits full of the newest advances in portable medical technology, so everyone is patched up. Mike here was one of the worst. I didn't know when he was gonna come to. Those laser rifles pack a wallop. Steph's arm is doing better, still I wish she'd rest for a bit. The girl's incorrigible. But, anyway, for the most part no serious injuries, just bruises and scrapes."
"So are we all in fighting shape?"
"You're not considering engaging Umbrella again are you?"
"Well, yes."
Steve was thoughtful for a moment.
"I wouldn't advise it, but, yeah, all of us could make it if we had to."
"Great," said Rich. "In that case, gather your flock, Steve, and be ready to roll within the hour."

Richard walked up to the Cap’n.
“Hey Cap. Hello Cait. You guys handled that well.”
“Thanks, Rich,” said Caitlin.
“Cap’n,” Rich said, “Could you spare a helicopter?”
“Well, mate, we’re a bit short of soldiers . . ..”
“I don’t need soldiers. I just want a copter on autopilot. Dan ain’t the only one who can plan.”

Richard then made his way directly back to Tony and Dan, who were talking excitedly about the possibilities open to them Ninja Pirate Inc. Richard wasted no time with explanations, but began to speak immediately.
“I figure, if we send an auto-piloted helicopter to distract the main guns, and that allows us to break through the gates and engage the enemy troops in yet another distraction. That way, a small group of us can---”
“Ho ho ho ho!” interrupted Dan. “Hold on a minute. What are you talking about?”
“Our attack plans for the UC headquarters off the canal, of course.”
His friends were silent.
“Why?” asked Tony. “We set out to stop Silas and we did just that. In addition, we acquired NP Inc. If we continued the mission we’d be with a much smaller force. There are many wounded and my father and his friends had to leave. They had other business to take care of. So why bother attacking Umbrella now?”
“Because we haven’t accomplished our goal, yet. Silas is still out there.”
“So what? Someone has to be CEO of Umbrella. We can’t take on the entire corporation at once, you know.”
“True, someone has to lead Umbrella. But Silas is far too dangerous to be that someone. In the past three or four of us have stopped whole armies and two assassination attempts with little fuss when Trans and the Cap’n ran UC. This time we came in full force and barely won the battle. Moreover, Silas beat us all, even when we were together. I’m certain that if he is allowed to guide the Umbrella Corporation, our days are numbered. We can beat a Trans Umbrella Corporation, but a Blake Umbrella Corporation will finish us with ease before turning its sights on the whole world.”
Tony and Dan absorbed what Richard had said.
“Richard’s right,” said Tony thoughtfully. “Blake is too dangerous to us, and the world at large. Plus, he’s now hell-bent on revenge, I imagine. And, we never actually stopped his plan. The Commons are still scheduled for destruction, and the viruses are set to go out.”
“Goddamnit!” yelled Dan. “Am I never going to get back to those girls? You said you wanted me for one night. What the hell am I doing here?”
“You’ve enjoyed the adventure,” Tony said.
“And,” Rich added, “why stop now. We haven’t used your plan yet. By the way, I’ve come up with a few additions . . ..”