"What a mess."

Agent Jaska tried to still the mad tremor of his thoughts. He would be sixty-seven in twelve weeks. He was on a cocktail of high blood pressure and cholesterol medications. He did not think Special Entity Zero-One's bloody rampage throughout Solca would lower either.

"A mess," Agent Jaska said, and he lost himself to the white frustration.

One of his aides, a woman, let out a cute shriek as he flipped over the table in-front of him. A dozens phones and their associated wires clattered onto the floor. They pulled and yanked at other electronics, which added their own noise to the crash.

A great wired and metallic clutter on the floor, but the voices never stopped. More dead. More destruction. More civilians to scoop up and erase. Because worse than the violent deaths Special Entity Zero-One wrought were the small cameras each and every soul walked around with in their pockets.

Cellphones made Agent Jaska's work so much harder. And bloodier.

"Give me the room," he said, and Pyotr, his closest aide, appeared at his side.

The others all fled the room in a hustle of black menace. There had not even been time enough to take off their coats. When the gravity of the situation fell over them like a wet slap, each and every idle thought disappeared.

"What a mess," Agent Jaska said as the doors closed and the two of them were alone. Aside from their three guests.

Field Commander Ileana. Agent Wadim. Agent Ilie.

It would have been easy to blame them for the whole mess. They and everyone else at Observation Post Zero One had severely underestimated the Special Entity. For five years they had filed report after report on the benign nature of their watch.

"And look at us now."

The three former agents sat in a puddle of their collective blood and excrements. Time had not even allowed for their interrogations to take place in another room. Not that any worthwhile information had been collected. Wholly incompetent. Woefully incompetent.

His aide, Pyotir, cleared his throat.

"Bad news then," Agent Jaska said. Not even a question. Pyotir had received a communication and the blood had left his face. Now the room was empty, and Agent Jaska was ready to hear what had happened.

Pyotir nodded.

"Those multiple sightings," his aide said, the words a struggle. "Not erroneous. And not Zero-One."

"There are no other Special Entities in Solca," Agent Jaska said, automatically. "But you have more to say."

In the past hour, aside from the constant stream of news on dead polici and sergents, there had been sightings of small and mobile Special Entities from all over Solca. Easy to dismiss as hysteria. But there were over fifty different reports.

"They are converging," Pyotir said. "They are moving towards the Special Entity. They could be- "

Agent Jaska silenced his aid with a look.

"Enough speculation," Agent Jaska said. He tried to kill the bubble of emotion that roiled his thoughts. "Special Entity Zero-One has demonstrated... It has upset our expectations. Focus on the destruction of these stray bodies. They are the Special Entity. There is only the Special Entity Zero-One."

Pyotir offered him a salute, though neither had served in more than a decade. Agent Jaska did not return the gesture. He turned towards their three guests and waited for Pyotir to leave the room.

Field Commander Ileana. Agent Wadim. Agent Ilie.

Not one stirred. He knew they were still alive. His aides had made sure they were still alive.

Agent Jaska stared at them with such unbridled hate that he felt dizzy. Or it could have been his blood pressure. He had not taken his medication that day.

Almost idly, he took off his coat. He heard his pill bottle rattle, but he ignored the noise. He took off her overshirt and then the sweat-stained undershirt underneath.

A small key stuck to the gaunt skin below his right breast. He tore it off, and the key left a small film of glue on his skin. He scratched idly at the fuzz, and then unfastened his belt.

Agent Jaska glanced at the door and smiled. It had to be madness, but all he could think of as he stripped off his pants and underwear was how comical it would be if one of his people stumbled inside, unaware.

Strapped to his right thigh was the Receiver. As far as he was aware, only four agents in the entire Kurtsk Security Commission had access to the device. It brought to mind an overlarge watch, albeit without clockhands or numbers. All that decorated the metallic sheen of the Receiver was a small keyhole.

Agent Jaska sat down and adjusted the Receiver. If it came disconnected from his leg, the device would break, and there would be no sending it back to the manufacturer for repair.

He only noticed the tremble of his hand when he failed to push the key into the keyhole after a third time.

"Steady," Agent Jaska said to himself, and he unlocked the Receiver.

The lid of the Receiver flipped open and revealed two small buttons: one red and one black.

Agent Jaska pressed the red button and waited, but not for long.

A familiar voice crackled from the other side of the Receiver. Agent Jaska had no idea who it was, but the voice was familiar.

[ Jaska Sarakop. How Solca? ]

Agent Jaska could understand the foreign words, but he did not know them well enough to answer in the man's own tongue. He pressed the black button and said:

"We cannot subdue Special Entity Zero-One. And we... we have reason to believe that the Special Entity is a Brood-class."

A brief quiet, and then the same familiar voice crackled out from the Receiver, almost lazed.

[ She find host? But she only go away from observe days ago. ]

"Four days," Agent Jaska said, bent over the Receiver. "Only four days to germinate... perhaps a dozen eggs?"

[ That bad. That very bad. How can help? ]

And it was here that Agent Jaska lost his voice.

So little was known about the Special Entities, and what was known seemed to shift and decay with each new discovery. The only truth that remained steadfast was the cataclysmic danger the Brood-class Special Entities possessed. Only they could produce more of the wretched abominations.

The death of a hundred thousand innocents would be a small price to pay for the destruction of a Brood-class. The erasure of an entire city would be a bargain.

"Could Special Entity... Zero-Nine be deployed?" Agent Jaska asked as the thought spilled from his lips. "To Solca?"

The silence that followed made Agent Jaska want to shout.

[ Zero-Nine on assignment other where. I sorry. ]

Agent Jaska blinked at the words, not out of disappointment, but out of sheer shock. Because Special Entity Zero-Nine was a myth. It was a bedtime tale for all the agents who worked to subdue and even control the Special Entities. Which meant that Agent Jaska was already dead. To be made privy to the certainty of Zero-Nine's existence could only mean the sheer finality of his demise.

His breath left him in a rattle as he grabbed either end of the Receiver. He tried to steady his voice, but failed.

"In that case... I recommend commencement... of Protocol AB-014. The city must be scourged... with fire."