It had been one of those LONG missions. One of the ones that when you ask what day it is, everyone has to stop and think about it before realizing it’s the same day. It’s just the week that’s changed.

Five hundred Galactor dead. One humungus stinking gecko mech destroyed, and he still wasn’t sure what a gecko was. Two hundred tons of its payload - enough nerve gas to wipe out a city - confiscated, and Katse escaped again.

Exhausted to the point of stupidity, Joe Asakura stood under the shower in the men’s change room of the ISO building in Utoland, hot water streaming down his glistening, scar flecked gold skin. It was almost a room itself, though its south wall had been cropped off at waist height, so people could shout from the lockers to the shower without getting a show at the same time. At least not from the waist down.

[Click]

He had no idea where Jun was. If she was smart, she was in bed already. Ryu had headed for the kitchens. Jinpei was still asleep on the God Phoenix. He probably didn’t even know they’d landed yet. Last Joe saw him, he was curled like a contortionist in his seat, sucking his thumb and hugging his bolas. One of these days, he had to get a picture of that.

[Click]

Ken made it to the change room, but at present he was lying flat on his back on one of the benches between the rows of lockers, fast asleep in only a towel with his flight book open over his face. Joe was probably the only one awake. Looked like it was up to him to be on the alert in case trouble started.

[Click]

Yawning, Joe put his head under the stream of water, his hands braced against the wall to support himself as he breathed through his mouth, his long hair dripping over his face, obscuring his eyes.

[Click]

The water rushed down his face, along his shoulders and down his chest, streaking down his abdomen then between his legs and further down.

[Click] [Whirrrr]

Tossing his head back, his long hair flew in an arc as his back arched, creating a rainbow halo around him as water flew in every direction.

[Click] [Click]

Stifling another yawn, he reached for the soap, his hair sticking to his face and covering most of it again as he turned his back to the spray, running the soap across his muscled chest, lathering it thickly.

[Click] [Click] [Click] [Whirrrrr]

He lathered his chest up and started on his arms, extending the limbs and flexing them slowly, his biceps bulging as he checked for muscle strain.

[Click]

His left arm ached slightly. Raising it high over his head, he let it bend at the elbow so his hand was behind his head while he sleepily trailed his fingers up the underside of the humurus to find the source of the strain.

[Click] [Click]

A minor bruise. Nothing major. Joe yawned, his eyes closed under his long hair as he let the arm fall and started checking the rest of his body for bruises or new scars, his hands tracing over his chest and abdomen and down farther.

[Click] [Click] [Whirrrr] [Click] [Click]

After this, he was going to go to his ISO assigned apartment on the 53rd floor, climb into his ISO assigned bed and sleep like the ISO assigned dead. He debated dragging Ken up to his own room on the way as he turned back to the spray, braced his hands against the small of his back, long fingers over the top of his buttocks, and stretched his back, muscles straining.

[Click] [Click] [Click] [Click]

And then, when he was done doing that, he was going to get a hearing test because he kept hearing this stupid clicking sound.

His shower done, Joe fumbled for the faucet, not caring that his hair still covered two thirds of his face still as he stumbled towards the lockers. Still, he didn’t really want to trip over Ken again, so as he pushed open the door to the shower area, he stuck a hand under the overhanging hair and swept it back over his scalp so he could see.

The first thing he saw was the paparazitti photographer with the zoom lens standing at the door.

Joe was awfully quick. He got his hands up in time to shield his face.

Unfortunately, that was about it.

Nambu looked up from the report he was writing as his phone rang. The one that was keyed to the wristbands of the team. They should all be asleep, he mused as he picked up the receiver.

"What is it?"

Joe sounded on the other end. "Um, Hakase, we got a problem."

Why couldn’t he have just gone straight to bed for once? Nambu hid his sigh. "What is it, Joe?"

"There’s a paparatzi photographer in the building. He was in the change room with a camera."

Nambu went cold. "Did he get a picture of your face?"

"Um... no."

Thank God. The scientist breathed a sigh of relief. "That’s a relief. Did you catch him?"

"No. I would have, but I tripped over Ken."

"Why didn’t you shoot him?" Even without a face shot, they had to get that film back.

"Excuse me?? You think I’m going to expose my limited edition Beretta to water? No way. I’d rather deal with the nudie shots."

One of these days, Joe needed to take a serious look at his priorites. Suddenly, Nambu did a backup over what he’d just said. "Did you just say ‘nudie shots’?"

"Um, maybe. How much trouble am I in if I say yes?"

"Tons." Nambu’s hand was gripping the receiver so tight his knuckles were turning white. "What sort of pictures are we talking about?"

"Oh, a bunch of me in the shower with my hair over my face. And you said I should get it cut."

Nambu ignored the gloating in relief. The showers had a wall around them. The photographer would only have been able to take pictures of him from the waist up. "All in the shower. Good. Thank God for small favours."

"And one out."

Joe was enjoying this. He did it to torture him, he knew that. Nambu felt the old familiar headache coming on. "And how much did that one cover?"

"Ur... I don’t think you want to know."

He had a point. Nambu wasn’t sure he wanted to either. "I’ll seal off the building. We’ll try to catch him."

"Great. I’ll be taking Ken to the infirmary."

Nambu didn’t even ask.

Jun couldn’t sleep. She never could after a mission like that. Needing to unwind, she headed into the newsgroups, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she navigated her way into one of the groups that carried binary pictures. 457 new messages since she last logged in. Jun sighed, then sighed again as a dozen more came down the pipe right in front of her. Idly wondering if she could work through all of them before she fell asleep or Jinpei caught her, she downloaded the most recent and opened it.

Oh, he was CUTE. Jun found herself staring at a picture of a man in a shower, the water beading on his olive-gold skin. He was absolutely gorgeous, not a trace of fat on him. The only problems with the picture was that it was only from waist up, since he was apparently standing behind the half-wall of a shower, and his hair covered his face so thoroughly that his features were completely obscured. Jun peered closer, trying to make out his face, but had to settle for staring at his gorgeous chest.

There were a dozen of them on the newsgroup, all of the same man from the waist up, all with his face hidden. She took it back. He was drop dead gorgeous and the only thing he was wearing was a blue bracelet on his left wrist, just like the one she wore on hers.

Jun frowned, staring at the bracelet, then looked at the shower he stood in. It looked like ISO’s. And now that she thought about it, the scars on his body seemed awfully familiar.

"Joe??"

Apparently, she needed to visit this group more often.

Virgil Backwalter was a Goon.

Too incompetent to fight, which was impressive in Galactor, he was assigned to monitor the internet and newsgroups for anything to do with the KNT. alt.worship.knt, alt.military.groups.knt, alt.birds.eagles.gatchaman, alt.sex.fetish.feathers, alt.condor.kill.them.all and more. He followed them all, and had programs tied to all the others to alert him when anything KNT related was posted. So far he hadn’t found anything really interesting, but Katse kept hoping.

His computer beeped, telling him that a dozen pictures with the word condor in the title had just been uploaded to one of the newsgroups. Virgil yawned as he saved and opened them, expecting a bunch of photos of vultures.

That wasn’t quite what he got.

Katse was pleased.

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From: "Photograph Editor" playstud@sex.com
To: "Kondoru no Joe" kondoru@iso.com
Date: Mon, 16 Feb 50 16:15:31 +0800
Reply-To: "Photograph Editor" <playstud.iso.com>
Priority: Normal
X-Mailer: PMMail 1.95a For OS/2
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Subject: Business Proposal

Dear Kondoru-san,

Hello, we received a submission from a photographer who wishes to remain
nameless for health reasons. He gave us a dozen photographs of you, all of
which are presently on the internet, as well as one which he’s offered to sell
to us. For legal reasons, we can’t accept his offer until we have your approval.

If you grant us permission to print the photograph in our March issue of Playstud,
we will give you a check worth $500,000.

Please respond at your earliest convenience.

-----------------------------------------------------------
Photograph Editor - playdude.sex.com
http://www.playstud.com

"Forget what your mother said... sex is a good thing."
-----------------------------------------------------------

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From: "Kondoru no Joe" kondoru@iso.com
To: "Photograph Editor" playstud@sex.com
Date: Mon, 16 Feb 50 16:15:31 +0800
Reply-To: "Kondoru no Joe" kondoru@iso.com
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Subject: RE: Business Proposal

>If you grant us permission to print the photograph in our March issue of Playstud,
>we will give you a check worth $500,000.

You got yourself a naked bird!!

P.S. Do I get any free copies?

****************************************************************************************
)
(............. _____/^^
~~~~~~/ ..............} .................KONDORU NO JOE
~~~~~~________|
......................((( ..|................."If you're gonna walk on thin ice, you may as well dance..."
.........................| ..| .................-------------------------------------------------------------------------
.........................---................."End Rush Hour Traffic. Legalize vehicular weaponry!"

****************************************************************************************

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
To: Commander Owashi no Ken
Subject: Your second is an idiot
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ken, bring me the head of the Condor! I really don’t care which.

Sincerely yours,
Nambu Kozibaru Hakase

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Commander Owashi no Ken
To: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
Subject: re: Your second is an idiot
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just so I know why I’m screaming at him, what did he do this time?

Cordially yours,
Commander Owashi No Ken

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
To: Commander Owashi no Ken
Subject: re: Your second is an idiot
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’ve been monitoring your team’s e-mail. Joe’s sold one of the pictures taken
of him to a skin magazine. I want him punished!

In mild annoyance,
Nambu Kozibaru Hakase

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Commander Owashi no Ken
To: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
Subject: Monitored e-mail (was: re: Your second is an idiot)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With all due respect, Hakase, I find it hard to believe that you’ve been
monitoring our private e-mail. I’m afraid I must protest officially this
invasion of our privacy, and I want an explanation as to the reason for it. It’s
not warranted. And I’ll deal with Joe in my own way.

Still yours,
Commander Owashi No Ken

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
To: Commander Owashi no Ken
Subject: re: Monitored e-mail (was: re: Your second is an idiot)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ken, I have no need to explain my actions for you. Punish Joe accordingly
and keep a closer eye on him in future.

Slightly torqued
Nambu Kozibaru Hakase

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Commander Owashi no Ken
To: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
Subject: re: Monitored e-mail (was: re: Your second is an idiot)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What?? I think you do owe me an explanation! I’ve worked hard for the ISO
and I can’t BELIEVE anyone would violate my privacy that way! You have no
right reading my mail or that of anyone on this team! And leave Joe out of this!

Commander Owashi No Ken

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
To: Commander Owashi no Ken
Subject: re: Monitored e-mail (was: re: Your second is an idiot)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Don’t take that tone with me, young man! You will do as you’re told and like
it! You’re still under my command!

Nambu Kozibaru Hakase

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Commander Owashi no Ken
To: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
Subject: re: Monitored e-mail (was: re: Your second is an idiot)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Watch it, asshole! I can switch sides awfully damn fast!

Ken

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
To: Commander Owashi no Ken
Subject: re: Monitored e-mail (was: re: Your second is an idiot)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That’s it! You’re on report too!

ISO -- Where Freedom is a Matter of Science.
INTEROFFICE MEMO

From: Commander Owashi no Ken
To: Nambu Kozibaru Hakase
Subject: re: Monitored e-mail (was: re: Your second is an idiot)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bite me.

"Hey!" Jinpei yelled excitedly as he ran into the KNT common room. "Guess what! Ken’s under arrest!"

"Gee, guess when you pictured this conversation, you saw yourself on the outside of the cell, didn’t you, Ken?"

Ken looked up at his grinning second. "Leave me alone, this is all your fault."

Standing on the outside of the ISO brig, Joe blinked. "MY fault?"

"Yeah. Nambu knows about your little financial venture with the skin mag and the photos."

Joe went slightly green. "How’d he find out about that?"

"He’s been reading our e-mail. That’s why I’m in here. We kinda got in a fight over it."

Joe was grimacing, imagining what else Nambu had read. The Top 5 List, his pen pal Stinky’s letters, the Sex Story mailing list, his collection of chain mail letters... Then he blinked. "Fight? What kind of fight?"

Ken shrugged. "It started with us arguing through memos. It ended with me dangling him out the window of his office by his shoelaces. He didn’t take it well."

"He never does." Joe cocked his head to one side. "So you defended me."

Ken snorted. "No, I defended all of us. But I can’t believe you sold a picture of yourself to a magazine like that. It’s irresponsible, it’s rude, it’s -"

"It’s 500,000 bucks, Ken."

"...oh. Think they got one of me I could sell?"

"Only if the photographer managed to snap a picture of me tripping over you and ending up with your face in my-"

"Never mind."

"STOP HIM! A RAISE FOR THE MAN WHO CAN CATCH THAT MORON!"

Grinning like a madman, Joe sprinted down the corridor in full BirdStyle, bowling over the occasional ISO employee who took Nambu seriously. Squeezing through a closing blast door before it shut all the way, he sprinted down the stairs to the lobby of the ISO building, out the door, down the walk and up to the little red mailbox at the edge of the walk. The flag was up.

"ALL RIGHT!" Still grinning, he yanked it open as Nambu ran puffing out of the building behind him, obviously regretting the donut he ate with breakfast every morning.

Joe pulled out a bunch of coupon books, some stuff to Nambu marked Top Secret, a letter bomb from Katse and an envelope addressed to him from Playstud magazine. Tearing it open, he found a $500,000 cheque inside.

"I’M RICH, I’M RICH, I’M FABULOUSLY WELL OFF!" He giggled insanely.

Nambu puffed to a halt. "Joe," he gasped. "If you give me that cheque now we still have time to stop the issue from being published."

Joe raised an eyebrow at him. "What for?"

"Don’t you have any pride?"

"Not really, no."

Nambu glared at him. "Joe, I’m ordering you to give me that cheque right now."

Joe shook his head. "Nope. I need the money."

"Joe! It makes you look cheap!"

The Sicilian looked indignant. "Does not!" he yelled. "Jeez, sell one nudie pick to Playstud and suddenly you think I’m easy!"

Nambu dropped his ace in the hole. "Joe, answer me one thing. How are you going to cash that cheque?"

Joe looked down at the slip of paper in his hand. "Huh?"

"It’s made out to Kondoru no Joe, isn’t it? Do you have a single piece of ID with that name on it? It’s a CODENAME, for God’s sake!"

Joe’s lip began to quiver. "My money..."

Nambu held out his hand. "Give it here and I’ll up your allowance by ten bucks for a week."

Reluctantly, Joe handed it over and sullenly followed his mentor back into the building.

The Galactor spies got it all on tape.

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From: "Kondoru no Joe" kondoru@iso.com
To: "Photograph Editor" playstud@sex.com
Date: Mon, 16 Feb 50 16:15:31 +0800
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Subject: Call it off

Thanks to a TOTAL ASSWIPE with NO SENSE OF HUMOUR, I’m hereby returning
the cheque to you. Sorry it’s all tear stained.

BTW, there’s a virus attached to this letter designed that when you read the letter,
it’ll delete your hard drive and mail obscene notes to everyone in your address
book. I mailed you the countervirus and the Fed Ex guy should have brought it this
morning. Stick the disk in your machine NOW!!!

Read MY mail, will you, Nambu??? >:(

****************************************************************************************
)
(............. _____/^^
~~~~~~/ ..............} .................KONDORU NO JOE
~~~~~~________|
......................((( ..|................."If you're gonna walk on thin ice, you may as well dance..."
.........................| ..| .................-------------------------------------------------------------------------
.........................---................."End Rush Hour Traffic. Legalize vehicular weaponry!"

****************************************************************************************

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From: "Photograph Editor" playstud@sex.com
To: "Kondoru no Joe" kondoru@iso.com
Date: Mon, 16 Feb 50 16:15:31 +0800
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Subject: re: Call it off

Dear Kondoru-san,

Thank you for the countervirus. It was very useful and we’ve already forwarded
your letter to all our competitors. Sorry we won’t be able to use the picture in our
latest issue.

On a related note, we received a visit and a death threat from woman who didn’t
identify herself but had several women in masks and fur accompanying her. She
must be an associate of yours since she knew of the picture and the fact that you
were going to back out on publishing it. She offered 4.5 million to you for the
negatives and all the copies. Since she had several guns pointing at our heads at the
time, we took her up on the offer and she left muttering something about ‘billboards’.

The money is being fed exed to you in cash. We hope this doesn’t cause you any
inconvenience.

-----------------------------------------------------------
Photograph Editor - playdude@sex.com
http://www.playdude.com

"Forget what your mother said... sex is a good thing."
-----------------------------------------------------------

Joe sprinted down the corridor, down the stairs, out the door and straight at the Fed Ex delivery man. A few moments later, his voice could be heard echoing back into the building.

"I’M RICH! I’M RICH! I’M FABULOUSLY WELL OFF! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Up in his office on the third floor, Ken heard his second’s yells through the open window and decided he really didn’t want to know. He was just grateful to get out of the slammer. He and Nambu were both in agreement to put this whole mess behind them. Sitting at his desk, he booted his mail program and read the first, feeling his eyes widen hugely as he did so.

"Nambu!" he gasped. "That’s just RUDE!"

THE END