Chapter One: A Less Then Pleasant Pairing

Scarecrow awoke with a start, whipping his Glock 23 out from under its place under his pillow, he blearily scanned for an enemy and finding none he collapsed back onto his bed, he let the gun rest against his forehead, the cold metal felt good against his fevered brow. For a moment he’d been back in some godforsaken stretch of rainforest in Southeast Columbia. The stifling humidity and heat, the constant rainfall-into-sunshine-into-rainfall. The fear, the gunshot. Scarecrow rolled onto his side and peered at the clock on his nightstand. It was 6:30 AM. Scarecrow threw off the remainder of his sheets and dragged his lanky body into the bathroom.
He showered, letting the hot water wash over him until it turned cold, this took roughly five minutes. Scarecrow grumbled about the plumbing in his old house has he washed. He grumbled about it everyday, especially this past month. Which he’d mostly spent inside watching reruns of Friends and rearranging his furniture, only to put it back where it had been every time. He thought about the day ahead as he dressed in his familiar navy blue suit, today was the day, he smiled his lopsided smile to himself in the mirror, today he returned to work, no more sabbatical, no more boring days at home wishing he was in the field.
He stepped into the kitchen with a cheerful stride, the room was a snapshot of 60’s home decor magazine, the walls were a lemon yellow with orange Asian influenced flower patterns. Everything in the room matched this basic color coordination, with an appealing brown stone floor and Googie inspired appliances. Scarecrow fixed himself a quick breakfast of toast and jam and seated himself at the breakfast table to enjoy it.
Era entered the room with the day’s paper. “I got your paper Scarebear!” she said in her sickly sweet Barbie voice. Scarecrow looked up at as she reached him, her plastic grin had a disturbing quality to it, like a madman, her eyes were too bright and her face had the fake quality of perfection about it. She handed Scarecrow the Monday edition of the Pen and Paper Herald without seeming to robotic and then teetered off to clean the windows.
“Era, please don’t call me Scarebear.” Scarecrow said flatly as he unfolded the paper, he had been saying this everyday for the last three years, when SBG R&D had given ERA, Emotive (Some liked to jokingly claim Erotic was what the “E” stood for) Robotic Assistant, to him “as a gift” for his birthday. Since then the robot had taken on the role of a mother figure, a role that Scarecrow had come to grudgingly accept. Scarecrow glanced at the headlines, took another bit of his toast and spat it out in shock.
“Scarecrow!” Admonished Era, turning away from the windows she’d been cleaning with a rotor mounted sponge that was protruding from her wrist where her hand, folded back on a hinge, would normally be. “I taught you better then that, you swallow your food mister!”
Scarecrow ignored her as she daintily picked up what half chewed piece of toast and with her thumb and pointer finger and threw it in the trash with an air of disgust, the front page of the P&P was the only thing he cared.

Burning Flags, Flame Worldwide Panic
By Ginger Black

Many look down on the act of flag burning, considering it an act of disrespect, others see it as a symbol of their absolute freedom, the right to protest the current system in favor of a new one.
But Wednesday morning the world awoke to a startling sight: from the White House to Parliament House in Canberra Australia, nations across the globe are finding themselves the victims of flag burning.
“My route to work takes me past the west front of the capital and that morning I saw that the flag was burning!” Relates Debbie Newcastle, a resident of Washington D.C. But Debbie wasn’t the only one to notice our nation’s great banner burning in the wind; across all of D.C., traffic was backed up, the worst choking points around landmarks where citizens stopped to watch as flags burned before them.
The burnings weren’t limited to Nation capitals though, In every major city in the U.S. local government buildings and landmarks found their flags burning or the cinders of what was left being blown about by the breeze. In New York, every single flag outside the UN Headquarters was aflame.
“This is obviously an organized attack on national pride.” Said President Walken in a press release Yesterday evening, promising the nation that they were safe and should not be frightened by vandalism no matter how impressive it may seem. He went on to say that the terrorists would be caught and brought to justice—

Scarecrow jumped up from the table. “Era, I gotta run, something’s come up.” He rushed into the hall and grabbed his sky blue trench coat off the coat rack. He turned back to Era as he opened the door “Please, clean the house while I’m gone instead of just sitting in front of the TV watching soaps.”
Era’s face did something that might have meant to look like a stink face, but she didn’t really pull it off. “They’re telenovelas, you big silly, much better then American soap operas. And I can’t miss today’s episode, Estaban is going to confront Jose about his love affair with Camilla and I can’t miss it Scarebear!”
“Please don’t call me that.” Scarecrow whined, feeling like the teenager with the embarrassing parents.
Era patted his gaunt cheek affectionately, “Oh, hush! Now give your momma a kiss.” She closed her eyes and turn her cheek, and scarecrow slipped out the door and made for his dilapidated ’84 Mustang.

The D.C. traffic that morning was irritatingly constipated. Scarecrow drummed his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, thinking about what he’d read. This kind of mass flag burning could only be the work of Burning Flag’s Army: through out his career, Scarecrow had faced many evils, power hungry tyrants, genius madmen with no moral compass, paperwork! He hated paperwork, but nothing was as big a pain in his ass then BFA. They’d shown up shortly after he’d started working for the Secret Branch of the Government, at first they seemed to be a small disorganized group of radicals operating out of the Northern United States. But the more time past and the more bases they destroyed, or sleeper cells they uncovered, the larger BFA became, it was like cutting off the head of hydra, two more took its place. This kind of symbolic demonstration could only be their doing, whatever they had in planned, they we’re getting ready to make good on it. He let himself smile grimly, it felt good to be back in business.

The SBG Headquarters was a modest building, standing only four stories and resembling a beige colored block concrete, that’s because it was a beige colored block of concrete. Despite its depressing image, Scarecrow’s mood brightened as he pulled into the parking lot and parked next to a multicolored Honda Civic, its body comprised of multiple other Civics cannibalized to ensure its continued existence. Scarecrow thought about all the Aston Martins he’d seen in the movies, a great fantasy, but that’s all it was, a fantasy.

The main lobby of SBG HQ was a dull place, a semi circular reception desk sat in the center of the room, an attractive but generic blonde woman was seated a the desk, not looking terribly busy as she did her nails. Behind her was a facade made up of a thin square wall. Attached to the wall was a metal sign made up of a grid constructed globe with the letters SBG overlaid on top back lit

Chapter One:
Capitol Limited Brings a King

I wake with a start. Whip my Glock 23 out from its place under the pillow, searching for the enemy, I find only my apartment and collapse back onto my bed, resting the cold metal in my hand against my sweating brow. For a moment there I’d been back in some godforsaken patch of the rain forest in Southeast Columbia. I just lay there, letting the gentle rays of the morning sun warm my skin through the window. I look over at my clock: 6:30 AM.
I roll over and close my eyes…

… “Rain, sweat. Sweat, rain. Either way you’re wet.”

“It’s not like in the pictures.”

“Huh? What pictures?”

“You know the one’s that show beautiful and exotic scenes of lush green tropical forests.”

“No it’s not like in the pictures, it sucks!”…

beep! beep! beep!

…” They’re on us!”

“Run!”

“Scarecrow, go!”

“AAAAAH! My leg! The bastards got my leg!”

“Come on—“

“No, get out of here! This mission doesn’t count for anything if one of us doesn’t get back!”

“I was counting on us both getting back; you owe me a beer remember? Now come on!”…

Beep! Beep! Beep!

…”Scarecrow… you need to leave me.”

“Shut up! We’re almost to Bogota… just a few more days.”

“I haven’t got a few more days man… my leg is messed up… I think I have an infection…”

“I told you to shut up, Cowl!”…

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

…“Scarecrow… we’re… still in this damn rain forest… Wasn’t Bogota just a few days walk?”
“We’ll get there when we get there, now shut up before I turn this thing around.”

“HA!… Funny guy… You need to leave me Scarecrow, neither one of us are going to make it out of here alive if you keep dragging me along like this.”

“Shut up! Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Sounded like a gun…”

“Tell my wife… that I love her.”

“Cowl, stop screwing around and give me the gun!”

BANG! BEEEP! BEEEP!

I sit up and whip my Glock 23 out from its place under the pillow. Déjà vu washes over me and I throw the covers off. I turn my alarm off as I head into the bathroom to empty out. And so begins an ordinary day in my life.

I step into the shower and try to shake the old familiar images off. Its been two months, but I have the same nightmare over and over again. That god forsaken jungle—Big day Scarecrow, don’t let your nerves get to you, big day!
I get dressed, picking my best tie and the suit I picked up from the cleaners yesterday. I step into kitchen and prepare a piece of toast to tide me until lunch, I’ve been missing the crappy cafeteria food at HQ. I hope they have that greasy cheese pizza today.
“Your newspaper, Scarebear!”
I turn from the toast I’m coating in strawberry jam to see Rosie, my android cleaning lady and surrogate mother holding the Monday edition of the Pen and Paper Herald. I take the paper and nod a thank you to Rosie. “I thought I told you not to call me that Rosie?” I ask as I chew a bit toast and glance at the headlines.
Rosie walks over to kitchen window and with a few clicks and whirs a squirt nozzle pops out of one arm and a sponge on a rotor out of another. “Don’t take that tone with me young man,” she says with surprisingly maternal sternness as she cleans the window. “And haven’t I told you to call me mom? Mother at least?”
I ignore the comment, first because I’ve gone over the fact that we are not related in anyway over and over to no avail and second because the front page story has my undivided attention.

Flags Burn Around the World
By Ginger Black

Many look down on the act of flag burning, considering it an act of disrespect, others see it as a symbol of their absolute freedom, the right to protest the current system in favor of a new one.
But Wednesday morning the world awoke to a startling sight: from the White House to Parliament House in Canberra Australia, nations across the globe are finding themselves the victims of flag burning.
“My route to work takes me past the west front of the capital and that morning I saw that the flag was burning!” Relates Debbie Newcastle, a resident of Washington D.C. But Debbie wasn’t the only one to notice our nation’s great banner burning in the wind; across all of D.C., traffic was backed up, the worst choking points around landmarks where citizens stopped to watch as flags burned before them.
The burnings weren’t limited to Nation capitals though, In every major city in the U.S. local government buildings and landmarks found their flags burning or the cinders of what was left being blown about by the breeze. In New York, every single flag outside the UN Headquarters was aflame.
“This is obviously an organized attack on national pride.” Said President Walken in a press release Yesterday evening, promising the nation that they were safe and should not be frightened by vandalism no matter how impressive it may seem. He went on to say that the terrorists would be caught and brought to justice—

“Scarebear!” I look up from my paper with pronounced annoyance.
“Rosie for the last time—“ My eyes shift toward the clock that Rosie’s perfectly manicured plastic-incased finger is pointing at, little hand almost on seven.
I cram the last bit of toast in my mouth and snatch up my coat.
“Rosie, would you please mop and vacuum today instead of watching those dumb soaps?” I said as I head toward the door.
“They’re telenovelas, you big silly, much better then those stupid American soap operas. And I can’t miss today’s episode, Estaban is going to confront Jose about his love affair with Camilla and I can’t miss it Chico!” She says with her adopted Latin accent as she adjusts my tie despite my silent protests. “Now give your mother a kiss.”

“No,” I say noncommittally.
Rosie’s fake baby blues narrow sternly “Scarecrow, you’re a naughty boy, you give your mother a kiss right now or so help me I will ground you, mister!” I know that there is no getting out of it and kiss my would-be mother on her smooth plastic cheek, and before I can be further harassed I make for the door, cross the lawn and hop into my 1985 Ford Mustang. I put it into gear and look up, Rosie’s waving goodbye and I can hear her through the window call “Love you Scarebear!”
I floor the pedal.

I arrive at SBG HQ a few minutes before eight, I’m glad to be back in the groove, the past month has been hell, staying at home and rearranging my house five times while Rosie watched the on-going octagon saga she called romantic drama. I wouldn’t have been home with a bad case of OCD if Magnum hadn’t had temporally suspended me. “It’s for your own good Scarecrow.”
I’m sure how its helped me, its been a month after Cowl’s death and I still dream about it every night, at least now I have something to distract me. I’m sure the office is abuzz with chatter about the flag burning. I’m also sure it has something do with the BFA, it doesn’t get much more obvious than Burning Flag’s Army.
I step into the main lobby of the SBG building, the room is sparse, with thin gray walls on which hang the occasional generic watercolor print, the lighting is low to give the empty room a cozier feel. I walk up to the front desk, listening to my shoes clop and echo as I approach a pretty but generic looking blonde in a beige suit, thin square glasses shielding and enhancing her brown eyes. Her dark hair in a tight business like bun.
“Welcome to Synergy Brand Global, can I help you?” The accent is General American, the tone friendly, but impersonal; like one you might hear on an automated technical support line.

“I’m a travelling sales-man.” I say without enthusiasm and glance up at a spot on the false ceiling, a red light blinds me for a moment. Then I look back to the receptionist.

“Solicitors are seen on the third floor, room 310.” We both say at the same time, with the same tone and annotation. The receptionist doesn’t seem to notice my perfect mimicry and hands me a clipboard with a sign in sheet on it; I sign in as Scarecrow and place my thumb on the Synergy Brand Global logo.
“Thank you!” Says the receptionist in her friendly and impersonal voice, not responding, I step to the elevator.
I press the button labeled “3” and follow with a press of the red stop button. With a slight lurch I feel the elevator begin its quick descent underground, I’m tapping my left foot to “Take Five” while I check my reflection in the reflective paneling, I want to look my best on the first day back on the job. If I have a hair out of place or a wrinkle in my coat Magnum might take it as a sign of dementia or something—looks matter to Magnum... a lot!
With a clear and resonating “ding!” the elevator doors depart and I step into the two-storied nerve center of the SBG HQ. The place looks more like a modern club from the ‘30’s than an intelligence agency’s base of operations. Once the walls were made of gray and green concrete but six years ago they were replaced by a mahogany and glass décor that has a slightly more laid-back atmosphere. All Magnum’s doing, as he insisted on covering the concrete with something classier, his excuse being that concrete gave him a headache (Which is still a popular joke around the office). While it may look like a place to knock back some scotch while listening to some Stan Getz and Miles Davis at first glance, a closer look reveals a very functional -- albeit comfortable -- workspace.
The soft lighting illuminates a beehive of activity, various agents file back and forth with stacks of paperwork and documents. In the center of the room rotates a giant holographic globe, with multi-colored dots representing different mission types and potential threats, at the moment the world is over run by red dots, high threat.
Above the globe is another globe, this one made of Plexiglas and housing the SBG Commissioner’s office, with arching supports doubling as stairs leading up to it.
I zigzag my way to my desk and sit down, leaning back in my chair with a the relief of returning home after a long absence. Despite the obvious tension in the room, I’m enjoying my return and watching with passive interest the bustle of agents going about their business, taking it all in before I get started on some bustling myself.
“Scarecrow!” I look to my right to see a redheaded vision; Agent Disarray, approaching me at unsafe speeds. I instinctively push myself back from my desk so I can move out of the way if the need arises. Disarray is gorgeous, a perfect little body with a face of an angel, and she’s go the smarts to match, but the poor girl has no coordination, her own shadow trips her up. It’s a well known fact and most agents know to practice a healthy dose of caution when ever she’s around.
“Welcome back!” She says reaching out a hand to shake and dropping the stack of files she’d been clutching on the floor. “Oh shoot!” She says bending down to pick the papers up, nearly bludgeoning herself on the corner of my desk.
I get down on the floor to help her before things can get ugly.
“Thanks, its good to be back.” I say, handing her an inch thick file on Dr. Zans Grim.
“Everyone really missed you,” she says as I help her to her feet. She gives me a concerned look with those brown eyes. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” I rush out averting my eyes, I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of discussing my feelings with everybody at the office.
“Hey, nobody’s judging or testing you.” She says gently, careening around to catch my eyes, “we ask because we care about, okay?”
I look at her directly, and smile, “yeah, ok… thanks Dissy.” I say, using my nickname for her.
“No problem Scary-Man.” She returns with mine and walks away, I start to settle back into my chair when she turns around suddenly, and nearly clotheslines another agent with her outstretched arm. “Oh I had to tell you something…” She says with closed eye, snapping her fingers in recollection. “Oh! Magnum wants to see you!” She says with a grin and continues on her way.
I look up to the transparent bubble, Magnum, his trademark, bright purple fedora clinched in his hands, paces his office in his matching purple suit. I’m in for fun conversation.
Reluctantly I make way up to the office. Magnum spots me halfway there and busies himself with looking relaxed by seating himself behind his desk. I poke my head inside. “Disarray said you wanted to see me sir.”
Magnum steeples his fingers and looks thoughtfully at me, sizing me up. “You look good Agent Scarecrow.” He says with uncharacteristic seriousness, his mouth creasing downward in a frown, suddenly the frown flips to a more familiar grin. “But you always do!” he says, his right hand limply dismissing his compliment.
“Umm… thank you sir?” I say, to be honest Magnum makes me uncomfortable with his flirtatious and friendly nature, I have trouble viewing him as an authority, which he actually prefers, being the causal man he is. I mask my discomfort by getting to business. “I noticed a lot of what-to-do about all this flag business sir, how I can help?”
“Did you Feng Shui your house like a suggested?” Magnum asks, like he doesn’t hear me, he’s really just avoiding the question.
“No sir, now about the flags—“
“Scarecrow, dear Scarecrow” I wince at the endearment, -- its not that I mind Magnum’s lifestyle or personality, but not I don’t know how to react to it, not knowing what to do makes me uncomfortable-- “You are a very talented agent,”
“Thank you sir.” I say with a little pride.
“But you’d be a lot more efficient if your Chi at home was centered.”
I consider explaining how impossible it is to have centered Chi at home when someone like Rosie lives with you, but ditch the topic in favor of getting the conversation back to the flag burning.
“Sir, the flags burning all over the world, they got to have something to do with BFA.”
Magnum rolls his eyes. “I’m not putting you on the flag burnings, Scarecrow,” He raises an index finger to silence any objections I might have, “It’s a big scary deal no doubt, but it’s a public investigation, anything the FBI learns will be shared with us.” Magnum pulls out a drawer in his desk and takes from it a manila folder.
“In this folder is a your new assignment, when you’ve completed it, come see me.”
I take the folder and note with satisfaction the TOP SECRET stamp on the cover before I open it.

AGENT SCARECROW,

YOUR ASSIGNMENT IS TO PICK UP YOUR NEW PARTNER, AGENT KING, FROM UNION STATION AT 1:30 PM. SHE’LL BE ON THE ACELA EXPRESS COMING IN ON CAPITOL LIMITED.
RETURN WITH AGENT KING TO RECEIVE FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS FROM COMMISSIONER MAGNUM.

I frown as I look at the attached photograph. a plain looking and stoic woman with mixed-Asian features adorns its surface. I haven’t even considered that I would be assigned a new partner after Cowl, it just hasn’t crossed my mind, and now that I have to face the fact, I’m not sure I like it.
“Magnum this says I’ve got to pick up my new partner.” I say with a slight hint of anger.
“Really?” He says with mock interest, “Wow, that must be the mission for the other Agent Scarecrow, so sorry.”
“I don’t need a new partner Magnum—“
“Scarecrow! Don’t start with me, I’ll send you home for another month I swear I will.”
I get the sense that he’s not bluffing and shut up. “You know that the SBG has a strict partner system, you cannot be a field agent without a partner.”
“I know the rules Magnum,” I hear myself snapping. “Fine, I need a new partner, but why this King woman, she’s an outsider. What division is she transferring from?”
“FBI” Magnum says grim faced.
“The Bureau? Magnum, that’s insane, their so by-the-book. She won’t survive! Come on, give me someone from the office.”
Magnum gets up from his desk and with hands in his pockets looks out at the bustle below him. “I would Scarecrow, but all of our field agents are paired up—“
“Give me Dissy, she wants so bad to be in the field Magnum, give her a chance.”
Magnum laughs, and really he’s justified, but I feel myself turning red just the same, “Disarray? Scarecrow are you talking about the woman who blew her little toe off with a paintball gun on a practice course? She’s spent the last ten-years trying to get upgraded to field status, I’m certainly not approving her for real fieldwork without it, she’s likely to get herself and her partner killed before they can even make it to work.
“No you’re going to go pick up this woman, and you are going to take her out for coffee and get to know your partner. Now get out of my sight before I get really mad at you and… slap you or something.”

As I drive to the station, the sky grows dark. It seems like a particularly angry
front is coming in. I welcome the bad weather. First day back on the job and Magnum wants me to cozy up to my new partner? I want something exciting to do, something worth pursuing, worth fighting for, and all I get is a rookie partner to break in. Crap.

By the time I reached the station around one in the afternoon the rain was coming down hard. I got out and ducked inside. I dried off and waited on the terminus. I was oddly nervous, and I bounced on my heels as the low rumble of thunder off-set the slight din of the station. I wasn’t sure what I was nervous about, but I hadn’t felt this way since my first day at SBG University. I made myself stop bouncing, there was no excuse for this behavior. All I had to do was pick this woman up and treat her to coffee, then I could start on convincing Magnum to let me work alone. I heard the scraping of metal pressing against metal and the low hum of an electric engine as the Acela Express came into Capitol Limited. I started bouncing on my heels again.

Finally the train came to a stop and with a pneumatic hiss the passenger car doors parted and people began pouring out. I looked for the stoic woman in the picture. But I couldn’t find her in the crowd.
“Hey! You the guy that’s supposed to be my new partner?” said a women’s voice, I looked around but saw no one.
“Down here, goofball.” I looked down and had to catch my breath. Agent King was looking up at me, her wavey jet black hair framing her elongated and decidedly Asain face, though her coloring was of Spanish heritage, as were her eyes. She sported a black turtle neck over which she wore a long black beaver felt coat. She held two large suitcases in either hand.
“Look its not like strange men gawking at me,” I closed my mouth, ”But I had a long trip and I want to recover before I get into this whole… whaddya call it? Spying? Espionage? Whatever, I need a nap, so could you do me a favor and drive me to my apartment?”
“Um… actually, the commissioner wanted me to take you to get coffee so we could get to know each other.” I said, wondering why I was so enthusiastic about it now.
“Coffee? No, no no NO! I don’t date… ever! So just set your sights elsewhere, playboy.”
My heart inexplicably sunk into my stomach. “I’m not lying, look if we’re going to be partners we need to get to know each other, develop some trust, that’s all this is.” I reached for one of her suitcases and she backed away.
“I can carry them myself thank you.” She said stiffly, her eyes narrowed. Then she eased up on the dagger stare. “Fine I could use a cup-a-joe anyway, lead the way Agent Chivalrous!”
And she started off, not waiting for my direction at all, I ran to catch up and take the lead. I didn’t know what to think about this King, but I did know that things were about to get interesting.