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picture of a manufactured killing machine.
    “Sweet Jesus,” the tall agent croaked out and
got off three shots. They hit the bear-shark thing dead center in
its chest. It would have killed any human, but this thing couldn’t
be considered anything remotely human, and the bullets didn’t slow
it down for a second. It lunged at the agent’s midriff, twisted its
neck and fastened its jaws around his waist. With a sharp snapping
sound of teeth meeting teeth, it bit him in half. The force of the
bite was so powerful that the agent’s body exploded and blood and
entrails showered everything and everyone in the room.
    “Shoot him!” Harry yelled out.
    The shorter agent took aim and blew six holes
in the shark man’s torso. More blood sprayed out and he staggered,
but didn’t go down. Instead, he let out another fearsome bellow and
charged the man, picked him up in his massive arms and squeezed. A
loud crack resounded through the room and the agent’s head
lolled.
    With a smile, the bear-shark tossed the
corpse away and turned his head in Istvan’s direction. With a shock
that wasn’t really a shock, the thing’s wounds healed in the blink
of an eye.
    “You, you little traitor, I thought that I
would find you here, and I was right.” The monster’s accent sounded
vaguely Russian... but not. Accent or no, every word carried menace
and he swiveled his stare, empty and dead, to Harry. “My name is
Szabo. Little men are nothing. You, you are next,” he said.
    Szabo... the name wasn’t Russian, but Harry
wasn’t concentrating on that at all. As the monster spoke, Harry
froze as a sense of dread enveloped him. Throat suddenly dry, he
swallowed and found that he had no saliva in his mouth. The old
memories of him getting punked in grade school and junior high
years back came through and rooted him to the floor. In situations
like this, it was normal to be scared. His instincts told him to
run, to find somewhere safe, but his mind told him to stay and face
down his fear. Both ideas jockeyed for supremacy and he wasn’t sure
which would win.
    However, if he was scared, then Anastasia was
the exact opposite, as she spread her arms wide and issued her
challenge. “Come and get some,” she yelled.
    With a shout of rage that shook the walls,
Szabo charged, jaws wide open, and Harry’s instincts of
self-defense kicked in. He jumped aside at the last second, but
twisted around and stuck out his leg. Szabo tripped and sprawled on
the floor. Anastasia seized that moment to leap onto his back and
slashed away at his head. “You try to mess with us, this is what
happens!” she cried.
    The monster roared while his blood jetted
into the air, but he didn’t seem to be seriously hurt. With a
lightning-fast move, he rolled over while grabbing onto Anastasia’s
tail and proceeded to toss her across the room.
    The sight of his girlfriend being assaulted
awoke Harry’s courage and he charged. “Take me on!” he screamed and
lashed out with a right hook that actually staggered the
man-shark.
    “You hit back... good,” Szabo said, rubbing
his snout. “Try again.”
    Evading the first slashes, Harry bore in
close. He used his own claws to rake Szabo’s face, all the while
ducking and weaving in order to avoid the snapping jaws. His
comeback continued until the monster clubbed him on the back of his
head. Stars exploded in Harry’s field of view and shock paralyzed
his system.
    In a mocking voice, Szabo asked, “Is that the
best that you can do?”
    Harry felt the other man-thing lift him. A
second later, the air rushed by and the window rushed forward.
Sailing through it, he landed on the grass in a shower of glass and
his own blood.
    “Damn it,” he muttered. After getting to his
feet, he unsteadily ran inside to find Anastasia still clawing and
slashing at the enemy for all she was worth. Drawing in a deep
breath, Harry joined in. Pain and rage helped fuel his assault and
he cut and chopped at the much larger man-thing.