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 Post subject: Zone FanFic
Unread postPosted: Fri Jan 11, 2008 8:06 pm 
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Zone Greetings, Please add on to the story, keep it Zone in spirit please.

Mr. Dean Stone awoke, and found himself stranded on a tropical island, in the distance
he could see a figure, it was a woman, the woman came closer and :

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Unread postPosted: Fri Jan 11, 2008 8:31 pm 
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... the woman came closer and smiled a slightly tilted smile. She pointed to the dune behind, Dean, that had the remnants of a banquet residing on a palm frawn blanket. Taking Dean by the hand, she gently steered him toward the food and drink. Slinking into the sand more so than actually sitting, she gently patted the sand next to her. Dean's eyes dashed between the food, then to the girl, several times before he spoke:


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Unread postPosted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 1:17 am 
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...several times before he spoke, "Who are you? And come to think of it who am I?"

"It is of no importance as of yet," she replied, "eat and refresh yourself."

Dean did as he was bid, selecting a silver platter which contained a knife and fork and some meat, which looked like venison. As he took his first bite of the scrumptious morsel, he found that indeed it was venison. More over it was the most tender, lovely and tastey dish he had ever eaten. But then he didn't remember who he was, he had no memory; so how therefore could he compare the taste of this exquisite dish to anything else? It was then that a sudden flash of memory came to him, it was a faint spark in his consciousness:


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Unread postPosted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 1:20 pm 
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... a sudden flash of memory came to him, it was a faint spark in his consciousness:

"Le Pied Au Fouet" he spoke aloud in a less than audible tone.

"Pardon?" inquired the lovely stranger.

"Le Pied Au Fouet ... a restaurant in Paris. This venison reminds me theirs. Hmmm," he concluded with a small tossing of his head.

"Hmm, what?

"It's just odd, really. I can eat this meal and it reminds me of a Parisian Bistro but for the life of me, I have know idea who I am. Or who you are, for that matter. Or where the hell I am." Dean watched the expression on his companions face take on a sullen depth. "Oh, don't get me wrong. The meal, the local, and especially the company, all meet with my approval. But this is so surreal - I mean things like this don't happen outside of a story ... or a dream."

"And what's wrong with that? You have no burdens to preoccupy your mind with. No relative guilt to consume you. Your actions and consequences are in the here and now without the clutter of life's daily-routine oppression forced upon you. In the end, does it really matter?":


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Unread postPosted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 2:31 pm 
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"...does it really matter?"

"Well...I suppose it doesn't...ahh, who am I kidding! Of course it does, to me anyway."

Dean, frustrated with his memory loss, gets up and strolls towards the water, kicking sand with each step. He stares out at the vast ocean where it meets the horizon, a deep blue melting with the sky blue, cloudless. He can feel the rays of the sun burning deep, and senses the mysterious woman approaching, as she reaches out for him. She grasps his forearm with intended tenderness:

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Unread postPosted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 6:27 pm 
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She grasps his forearm with intended tenderness.

"You remember Le Pied Au Fouet, that is a step in the right direction. You see me before you Dean, my visage should be stamped within your memories, concentrate and you will remember me."

Dean nodded and summoned his thoughts, probing through the meagre web of images at the back of his mind, and then as he thought of the beautiful lady before him, a glimmer of recognition came to him, a name.

"Angelique!"

"Mon amour," she replied, "you begin to remember me, our love would endure unto the end of the world you promised me and now I believe it."

"Of course you were a waitress at the restaurante, that was where we first met.":


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Unread postPosted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 7:16 pm 
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"...that was where we first met. Ok, ok, so I enjoy venison, I've been to Paris, and I met you, Angelique, at that very restaurant. All fantastic points, but one enormous point still eludes me. Who am I?!?"

Dean ponders the very idea of his identity with an intense face, brow furrowing, scratching his head. The perspiration seeps through every single pore at a vigorous rate as his blood pressure continues to rise. Then suddenly Dean's worrisome look changes to a pale, drawn mask because he has come to realize an important yet subtle detail. If he recalls Angelique, as they have met in Paris, then why has she not come forth with the information he seeks so desperately?:

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Unread postPosted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 7:43 pm 
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... why has she not come forth with the information he seeks so desperately? "You called me, Dean."

Smiling coyly, "Of course, silly. I am Angelique and you are, Dean. You see, it's all coming back to you."

"No," he snapped. "Nothing is coming back. If you hadn't called me by my name, I wouldn't even have that. Dean, what? How old am I? Where do I come from? What do I do?"

Shaking her head slowly, she stepped in close and wrapped her arms around him. "Dean, mon bel homme, we are together. That is what is important. Nothing else matters. We are here, now, together. Isn't that enough?":


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Unread postPosted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 7:50 pm 
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"Isn't that enough?"

Dean escapes Angelique's grasp, stumbling backwards in disbelief.

"Sorry, but that's not enough. Do you realize we're on a beach, yet I don't see any other person around. Are we on an island? Are we on the coast, and if so, what country? United States? Mexico? France? Italy? I'm sorry Angelique, but this is way too much for me to process right now. I mean, how did we get here? Are we alone or are there others? I...I...just can't handle not knowing!"

Dean storms off away from the beach and Angelique, inland towards the jungle to explore the unknown in hopes of discovering pieces to a puzzle.:

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Unread postPosted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 9:07 pm 
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... inland towards the jungle to explore the unknown in hopes of discovering pieces to a puzzle.

The jungle smelled fresh and clean. The vivid colors between the streams of sunlight made a drastic change from the shoreline. The sounds of the surf and ocean squaw was soon drowned out by the volume of silence.

"Does it matter? What the hell is that women thinking?" Dean mumbles aloud to no one. "She obviously doesn't know who she's dealing with. I'm not here for her amusement. This is my damn life. Dean ... Dean?" He recited his name disdainfully. ""How do I know that's my name? She could be lying to me. Hell, she didn't start speaking French to me until I mentioned the restaurant in Paris. Well, I'll tell you one thing-"

Dean's thoughts and words were cut abruptly short due to:


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Unread postPosted: Sun Jan 13, 2008 2:01 am 
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Dean's thoughts and words were cut abruptly short due to a piercing cry coming from the direction of the beach, where moments before he had stood with Angelique.

He ran back in the direction of the beach frantically, his heart pounding, his lungs acheing untill he reached the very spot where he had last seen her, but there was no sign of her. He looked to the left and right of him, surveying the landscape as far as his eyes could see. There was endless miles of beach, with craggy mountains in the distance on both sides but that appeared to be all. The island looked as desolate as a realm from a nightmarish dream.

What could he do now? He was baffled, and then just as he was about to collapse and sink into the sand, exhuasted and defeated, he saw the remenants of the banquet on the dune. It was funny but Dean remembered that besides the plate of vension he had dined on, he had negelected to inspect what other treasures the dishes might contain. Perhaps it was a silly, futile idea, but maybe they might hold some sort of clue as to his identity and Angelique's dissapearance. In any case it was all he had to go on, he made his way to this strange cluster of plates that lay on the palm frawn blanket and to his astonishment he saw:


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Unread postPosted: Sun Jan 13, 2008 9:25 am 
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... to his astonishment he saw that it was all made of sand. The dishes and cups had been carefully constructed and placed in a sand sculpture. The forks, knives, spoons, even the venison, were all made from sand. Kneeling, he touched the plate that just minutes before he had eaten from and it crumbled to his touch. He examined where he and Angelique had sat, stood and walked; to his relief their were two sets of prints. He followed his steps back to where he left her but her prints stopped abruptly near the shore. Whereas he could see his prints heading toward the jungle, hers simply ended without any further trace.

He walked back to the palm frawn blanket of sand sculptures and kicked at each with his right foot. All crumbled under the slightest contact. 'OK, so what whacked Fellini film is this,' he thought. Grabbing the palm blanket, he began tugging it from the dune and flipping off the sand piles. He rolled it into a neat cylinder and tucked it under his arm. 'Well, at least this is real. Screw it, the jungle must have something relevant otherwise this dream ... nightmare wouldn't have tried to prevent me from going any further. There has to be an answer waiting for me there. There has to be.'

Entering the jungle again, Dean began retracing his steps.:


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Unread postPosted: Sun Jan 13, 2008 7:14 pm 
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Entering the jungle again, Dean began retracing his steps.:

'Ahhh...' Dean thinks to himself. ' It is coming back to me, I was in the military, the french air force, Armée de l'Air,oui, comme il fantastique est , on a recon mission, I must have landed on this island, hmmm... to the west, I bet is my plane.' He moves in that direction. Thru the tall brush.

In the distance he sees the rustling of leaves. It is a person, or an angel? Angelique? Mon dieu! She is real, not a
figment of my imagination. She is standing on the fine crytstalline sand wearing a near gossamer gown in ivory, the sun is behind her, as if to halo her.

She says " Monsieur Dean, my dear sir, come to me and I will tell you all that want to know about your identity".

Dean asks himself ' Is this Angelique?" and begins to :

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Unread postPosted: Mon Jan 14, 2008 7:19 am 
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...Dean asks himself, "Is this Angelique?"
He begins to cautiously approach the figure is white. As he passed through the under brush, the plants snapped and broke under his weight. The billowous white figure seemed to beckon to him with its arms, urging him onward. He could hear his heart race as he grew closer. The blood pumping loudly as the anxiety swelled within him.

Stepping from the foliage, his bare feet sank onto the coarse crystalline sand. "Angelique?" He asked as he stepped near the figure. "Angelique, is that you?" The seemingly ethereal figure did not answer yet continued to beckon to him with silent, gentle motions. "Angelique? Angelique ... is that you?":


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Unread postPosted: Mon Jan 14, 2008 6:31 pm 
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"Angelique? Angelique...is that you?"

Dean approaches slowly but cautiously towards the woman in white, unsure of what he sees. The closer he gets the blurrier the woman appears, until he is standing a foot away from her. Then she vanishes like an apparition. Flustered by what he's seen, Dean jumps back and looks in all directions.

"Hello?!? Angelique! Anyone - is anyone out there?!?"

Dean cannot understand what is happening. Things are getting stranger by the minute. The one thing Dean can be sure of, or at least feels deep within his bones, is that someone is out there, watching him at this very second.:

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 Post subject:
Unread postPosted: Mon Jan 14, 2008 7:10 pm 
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Dean looks around, and sees nothing but lush foliage. He just shakes his head that is covered in moisture, sweat mostly.
He thinks to himself, must be hallucinating or something. Oh ok, let me get back on track, westward bound to my air craft.
He starts breaking some palm leaves to keep track of what direction he already traveled. He walks on, and his foot meets a small cube. A silver chest. There is a combination lock on the top, however instead of numbers there are some odd
images, like ancient egyptian markings that need to be spun to open it, or at least that is what Dean assumes. There are three such images on top that need to be moved. ( The box has 2 initials on the side, which are A.S.).

He is abit hesistant to try to unlock it, yet he says to himself that he should fear nothing. He spins the images, 3 spiders, 3 eyes, 3 hands,etc...several attempts nothing. Finally, he spins the lock to 3 diamonds, and suddenly:

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Unread postPosted: Mon Jan 14, 2008 7:37 pm 
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... Finally, he spins the lock to 3 diamonds, and suddenly the lock crumbled away like so much sand. Wiping the remnants from his hand in two quick swipes, he runs his hands along the silver cube. 'Well, it feels real," he thought to himself. He paused at the two engraved initials and studied them intently. 'A. S. Angelique ... Something.'

Running his hand along the silver chests seam, he paused momentarily. Taking a step away, he used the rolled palm blanket like a stick and flipped the lid open. Still using the rolled palm, he tapped the sides of the chest and stared intently. 'Well, it hasn't blown up or turned to sand. Should be safe. It looks safe.'

With the rolled palm blanket tightly clenched in his hands like a make-shift baseball bat, he cautiously stepped before the box. 'It's just a box, Dean. It's only a box. Just a box. It's only a box-' Standing before it, he had no choice now, he looked down to see what the chest contained.:


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Unread postPosted: Tue Jan 15, 2008 7:03 pm 
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...he looked down to see what the chest contained. To his surprise, a lone piece of paper lay rolled up like a small scroll. He carefully reached for the scroll and delicately unraveled it, afraid that it might crumble due to its aged appearance. With eyes widened anxiously awaiting what was inscribed, Dean had a multitude of thoughts running through his mind of what could be revealed, hoping that perhaps it could be something pertaining to his identity. A short gasp and a weakened grip caused the paper to drop right back into the box.

Its inscription read: 4U, 12U, 23D, 26D, 29L, 41R.

Numbers and letters. A random assortment, but what could they mean?

A few hundred yards away from where Dean was standing, gazing into the box and pondering the note's meaning, a telescopic lens was hidden amongst the brush, watching his every move.:

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Unread postPosted: Tue Jan 15, 2008 8:38 pm 
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[align=center]* * *[/align]

[align=justify]The small dimly lit chamber was choked with a thin layer of oily clove scented smoke. It rose in a spiral plume from the crystal ashtray that sat atop the glass table next to the small divan. Occasionally, the black papered cigarette would be lifted, inhaled and returned into the ashtray; and once again the smoky flume resumed its spiral haze. The flicker-less ambient light in the room was being generated by a large flat-screen monitor attached to the wall across from the divan. Intently watching the screen sat two indiscernible figures. The one on the left sat singularly still and occasional drank small sips from a Styrofoam cup. The figure on the right would occasionally inhale from the cigarette, crush it out and light another. The only sounds were those being emitted from the sipped liquid, the lighter's scratchy click of ignition, and the exhaled smoke.

Suddenly, the room was flooded with a hard, albeit brief, blast of florescent lighting from the opening door. The sudden on rush of fresh air momentarily disturbed the smoky atmosphere before it once again subsided. A third figured entered the room and handed the figure seated on the right a small red and black box. The figured tapped it into its palm three times and removed the cellophane from around the box's top. Opening the lid, the figure removed the silver foil, then a cigarette and placed it in its lips.

"Stage Two has been initiated, successfully." Stated the third figure as the striking lighter lit up his young but weathered face. He leaned down and lit the cigarette. "We are making preparations for stages three and four."

Exhaling the smoke and extinguishing the flame, figure right nodded its approval.

"Will that be all?" asked the young man to both figures. Neither said a word as the man turned and left with the abruptness he had entered.[/align]

[align=center]* * *[/align]


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Unread postPosted: Fri Jan 18, 2008 6:04 pm 
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Dean picked up the note. He carefully placed it in his left breast pocket. He attempted to lift the silver chest but found it was much too heavy for one man to lift. He looked skyward. He gazed thru the trees in search of the suns direction. He guestimated the time to be late afternoon. He narrowed his barrings to approximate East and trekked forth thru the heavy under brush.

Time seemed to slowly pass until he cam to a clearing. He realized it was more than that. He realized it was a run way. The jungle had began to reclaim it but the asphalt and faded white paint made it undeniable. He walked the length of the runway, 900 paces. He then came upon the remains of the control tower. The skeleton of the iron work lattice was still in place but the top control room had long ago fallen. It now lay on its side in the under growth. He approached what looked like the door. He wrestled with the handle. He twisted left and right to no avail. Upon finding a rock, he began beating the handle until it snapped off. He kicked the door with all his might and the door slammed open with a thunderous crash. He carefully looked inside the open door. He could smell the rancid stale air of entombment. "If only I had a flashlight," he thought. :


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Unread postPosted: Sun Jan 20, 2008 6:27 pm 
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"If only I had a flashlight," he thought.

Back to the figure on the right, he lit a Dunhill, inhaled intently, then smoked out between his gritted teeth " Watch as he moves 2 more steps forward".

Dean navigates 2 steps then suddenly a square portal inhales him, he is traversing, as if levitated, thru a long corridor, then thru a door, which closes behind him, he lands in a black chair that looks like a Herman Miller Aeron chair. It is situated in the center of this room.

In front of him is himself? Yes, himself, yet slightly older more regal looking self, his hair slicked back, in a black millitary uniform, with golden stars on the lapels and epaulets, and medals on his chest.

The older Dean says " Good to see you, Captain Dean Stone. Did you get Intelligence's flash drive?"

Dean, startled, yet says :

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Unread postPosted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 9:06 pm 
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... Dean, startled, yet says, "What? No kitty cat. No cool John Barry score-"

"Funny, Dean." announced the General as he used his cigarette like a pointer. "Now, that is funny. I knew I used to be funny. Ah, when I was young and reckless, I didn't have a care in the world. But, alas, age has rendered that useless emotion obsolete ... almost like my patience. So, I'll repeat my question, 'Did you get Intelligence's Flash Drive?'"

"In case you hadn't noticed ... I'm on an ISLAND! I found SAND! Lots and lots of SAND."

Using his near spent cigarette as a starter light for his next, the General extinguished the spent and pressed the silver button on the nearby remote. The chair young Captain Dean began to spin in a slow half circle. Exhaling a thick cloud as he breathed, the General advanced to the back of the chair as it faced the monitor screen; displaying Dean examining the silver chest. "What was in the chest, Dean?"

"You tell me." Snapped Dean. "You got the whole damn thing on Memorex."

As the video advanced, Dean watched himself flip the lid and approach the chest. Reaching inside, when his hand returned to screen it held sand pouring between his fingers and out the sides. He cast his eyes toward his breast pocket and saw that there was indeed a piece of parchment there. He returned his eyes to the screen as the loop started again. And again, on the screen, it showed it was sand he pulled from the chest.

"What was in the chest, Dean?"

"Sand!" Dean proclaimed. "Just SAND!"

"Disappointing. Very disappointing," announced the General as he resumed his place on the divan. "I guess we will have to keep looking then won't we."

"Wait! What the hell is going -"

[align=center]* * *[/align]

Dean awoke, prone and fetal, with a thick mist around him.:


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Unread postPosted: Wed Jan 23, 2008 6:45 pm 
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Dean shot up from the ground, very disoriented. "I could've sworn...", he thought to himself while looking in every direction, circling the very spot he awoke from. A dense mist began creeping up from the ground reducing visibility. Dean contemplated his position, "have I gone up in elevation?", thinking about the foggy blankets that hover atop the mountainous regions of Hawaii.
Dean begins walking the jungle paths slowly, remembering the parchment in his breast pocket. He takes a quick peek around and spies at the content of the paper still hidden inside his shirt.

"I wonder what they wanted with this? Who the hell are they, and what am I doing here? Am I a pawn?"

Dean's frustration grew, but he focused his energy towards his mission to discover his identity and the object or gateway that required the combination he found in the chest.:

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Unread postPosted: Fri Jan 25, 2008 1:46 pm 
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Dean looked at the inscription,again, which read: 4U, 12U, 23D, 26D, 29L, 41R. And now realized that they are not a random assortment, it struck him like a hammer to a nail, this is how Angelique wrote codes to me, le me see..ah.. for one to you, to the to see, tonight, for one R? R...road, rock, uhh...river, that must be it. My sweet Angeligue wants me to meet her at the river, at midnight.

11:59 p. m. Dean nears the river, he looks around and there is Angeligue, high up on a rock, her ivory colored gown looks to glow in the dark. she entends her arms toward Dean, and says " Come to me my dear captain".

Dean moves to her and says:

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Unread postPosted: Sat Jan 26, 2008 6:12 pm 
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... Dean moves to her and says, "My dear captain? My love ... my love." He moved in close and wrapped one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders. He stared into her big brown eyes, "Has our affair succumbed to mere formalities?"

Reaching up, she stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. "Dean, mi amour, what ever is the matter? When you left me on the beach you looked so fresh and determined. Now you look as flustered as a school girl on prom night."

Dean ran his fingers through her raven hair. It lilted and gently drifted is the stirring breeze. "The problem is, this isn't prom. Hell, this probably isn't even real. Yet you-" He pulled he closer. "You feel very real ... and warm ... and very much alive."

"Qui, vous âne idiot, we are both real. No?" Angelique's kissed him passionately before he had a chance to respond.

As their lips locked a myriad of images cycled through Dean's mind. Heated arguments, violent fights, angry make-up sex. Dean opened his eyes but the visions still came, a wedding. The preist was muffled and distorted but he recognized the words, "Do you Angelique accept this man." Then it was his turn at the vows. The Priest announced them as man and wife as his fingers stumbled nervously as they lifted the bride's veil. A beautiful set of blue eyes framed in auburn hair stared back.

Pushing away from Angelique's embrace, he stared wide-eyed yet be-dazed at his mysterious love.

"Dean?" Angelique asked in a questioning tone. "Are you alright? What's the matter? Dean? Dean?":


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Unread postPosted: Wed Jan 30, 2008 7:13 pm 
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[align=center]***[/align]

Inside the chamber the man sitting in the shadows gave a confused look at the General.

"You know, don't you."

"Absolutely, but we can't let him figure out we know of his possession of that code. The experiment must continue in order for the mission to be fulfilled, and Dean needs to find the lock that requires that combination. Angelique is doing well as a distraction, but I just hope it doesn't throw Dean off completely from the task at hand."

The ashtray filled with old cigarette butts and ash holds a lit cigarette, which the second man picks up to take a drag. Peering at the screen of Dean and Angelique at the river, he keeps vigilant watch over their actions, listening to their conversation with the headset. The door opens, illuminating the dark chamber, with a single silhouette in its frame. The third man enters frantically, "We have a problem...":

[align=center]***[/align]

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The third man enters frantically, "We have a problem...":

" What is this problem?" The first figure asks, making quote marks with hands around the word problem.

" Dean has not gotten to cave with the computer room yet to get the IFD ( Intelligence's Flash Drive)".

The first man snorts out a laugh, clicks his fingers, and says " Now look at the monitor".

On screen: Dean is surrounded by walls of data bases, electronic devices, and computers. One wall is all USB slots, with Flash Drives inserted in each slot. Dean looks at them all, and instantly reaches out for a black one. It harbors a small
glass tube with a glowing siliver liquid. ' The IFD!' Dean thinks internally.

The second figure puts a cigar to his lips and blows out the word s" Good, Dean, good, now it is time to bring you home".
And with that Dean is transported between the three figures.

" Dean, please give us the IFD and the paper," the first figures insist. The third figure asks " Well, if you have all these powers why not just magically take them from him".

The second,with hs gravelly voice states" It is not as simple as that ( by the way, for this story that would be too easy),
Dean is our operative, we should give him the dignity and respect he deserves, so Mr. Stone, what will it be?"


Dean then:



----------------------------------------------


Have to say, you are all phenomenal writers, thank you all for contributing, you are all great. What does every think if we conclude this storyby the next 5 posts?
This fanfic is great it is :D
Then, if you like we can start a new fanfic, its all Zone good.

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... Dean then smiles and winks. "Oh, come on, General. We both know me better than that. To quote John Lennon, 'I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.'"

With raised eyebrow, the third man announces, "He knows? How the hell does he know?"

"I told you I was a funny guy." Remarked the General to his Aid De Camp. "The flash drive, if you please, Captain."

Dean squints his left eye and shakes his head negatively. "I don't think so, General. You've all gone to such trouble to illicit my co-operation that would feel remiss if I didn't ask some questions. The first being, Angelique. Where is she?"

"Safe," insisted the Aid slowly setting the Styrofoam cup in the trash. "And she will stay that way as long as you don't do anything foolish."

"So, that means she is here then."

"That all depends upon your definition of here, Mr. Stone. Which also is dependent upon your definition of, Angelique. Are you referencing her as the embodiment you have created or the real flesh and blood version?"

"Ah," grunted Dean through an insincere smile. "So, if the General and I are the same person, why hasn't the General retrieved the IFD himself?"

Holding his hand up to halt his Aid, the General responded, "Quantum Genetics. You see, Dean, the IFD has had certain safe guards placed upon it to keep it safe. My current genetic code has been implemented in those safe guards. However, as a younger version of myself, you have no been-" The General paused to light another cigarette and ponder an appropriate response. "Exposed to certain chemical alterations to our genetic make-up. Being that you and I are not the scientific type, I won't bore you with the details. Just accept that although we are the same, you as my younger self, don't have the same government imposed nanites and inoculations running through your veins."

"So, what am I a clone of you?"

"No, Dean. As I said, you are a quantum entity of myself. To break it down, you are me 30 years ago. You have been plucked from an instant of time and brought here for this specific mission."

"So all this sand crap-"

"Are literally the sands of time." Interrupted the Aid. "The locks in place in the here and now were not in place in your your time stream. It's an unfortunate side effect we had not calculated on. Apparently, Intelligence's programmers were craftier than I had given them credit for being. A small and bothersome oversight."

Dean began to twirl the glass tube filled with silver liquid between his index and middle fingers. "So, tell me. Who or what is Intelligence and what the hell does this phial contain?" :


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Dean began to twirl the glass tube filled with silver liquid between his index finger and thumb. "So, tell me. Who or what is Intelligence and what the hell does this phial contain?"


The General gives Dean a serious stare and then breaks it down : " You see my dear Dean, Intelligence
is the corporation that brought all of us to life. They created this island, they are behind making all of us in this room.
We have been replicated from a DNA template that---"

" Clones? We are all clones?" Dean interjects.

The General states " That is the simple answer. I can discuss how all this is with biochemical equations on a later date,
if you want, yet for now, just know Intelligence made us. And we want to reproduce more of us, to create an army of clones. The phial, as you so aptly call it, or in layman terms: the vial contains the DNA sequence to fashion our dream. Thus, we appreciate your great work, I am you as you are I, handing it to us will expedite the goal. On top of all this
you will be promoted".

Dean opens his hand, and reveals the flashdrive ( to the General ) which houses the crucial silver liquid and then
asks " Why do you want to create an army?"

The General states " My, Dean, you are an inquisitve one, I always was ,was not I? Anyhow, We want to protect ouselves, us clones from annihilation. You are a clone, where are your loyalties?"

Dean then thinks for awhile then says "

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... Dean then thinks for awhile then says, "Annihilation from what? From who? I mean come on, General. Break it down for me."

The General nodded to his Aid as he took a last hit off his cigarette before crushing it out.

The Aid rolled his eyes in contemplation before beginning. "The World you remember ... knew, no longer exists. Nations are no longer a viable concept. To break it down farther, there are no longer any nations - just one unified Earth. Do you remember the significance Aztec/Mayan calender, Captain?" Not waiting for an answer, the Aid continued, " The foretold that the Earth would end in the year 2012. Well, this wasn't far from the truth. In 2012, the Ta'l Krec race appeared in mass numbers and surround our planet. The were 8 feet tall, alabaster white skinned with red hair and Van Dyke groomed goatees. They weren't here to help us, cure our ills or the like. They weren't here to enslave us. They were here to eliminate us, pure and simple. They shut down our satellites, electronics, and all other forms of electronic telemetry and communications. Nations collapsed an mankind stood on it's own - dog eat dog guerrilla warfare.Things were going bad for a decade plus until Colonel Dean Stone discovered a simple truth about the Ta'l Krec. It wasn't that they had superior numbers, they had superior warriors who didn't need training. They were genetically identical clones, from one base template, of their most exalted warrior. Imagine it, captain. Clones that can be made in mere hours preprogrammed with knowledge of command and conquest ingrained in their DNA."

"And that's when, INTELLIGENCE comes into play?" Asked Dean already surmising the obvious answer.

"Yes and No," continued the Aid. You see, what remnants of Nations that held out and tried to maintain order, developed nanites and other inoculations to cure the onslaught of Bio-Chem and Nuclear agents the Ta'l Krec unleashed. This contaminated our gene pool and hence any chance of us achieving a pure template. Enter INTELLIGENCE, a sophisticated AI program that a hybrid of both races technical achievement. Specifically, the Ta'l Krecs knowledge of quantum physics. Unfortunately, our attempts to utilize this knowledge to alter and prevent this war from happening in the past was futile. We actually created a worse problem by introducing the diseases earlier into an unsuspecting world and society than we had anticipated."

The General cleared his throat before lighting another cigarette.

"Excuse me, before I had anticipated. However, our time meddling did allow us to gather and harness needed preventive measures that had not been in place at the time of the initial invasion. Specifically, the application of INTELLIGENCE on a full scale facility as early as 1995. This was paramount because by 2012, we had all the flaws and bugs programmed out. Trust me, not an easy task. When the Ta'l Krec attacked, we already had an army of clones at the ready. You Captain."

"Me? Why the hell me?"

"That was my idea," announced the General. "You, I, ... We were the obvious choice. I remembered my vacation in Hawaii back in 1992 with my wife, Angelique. The best of times for me. So instead of going back in time to resolve our predicament, we brought you forward. Extracted your DNA template when you were fit and uncontaminated and made millions of you. However, somewhere along the line, we overlooked one thing, the ability to adapt and adopt to what was coming. So INTELLIGENCE safe stored your original template and began doping it's copies. Soon my DNA was mixed with others to achieve the perfect cocktail. A super Soldier that was made up of highly specialized DNA. However, this created memory leaks and false memory implants. The ultimate Super Soldiers began to only respond to their kind. The Ta'l Krecs were not the only opponent on the battle field anymore. Standard humans, the great and untainted masses, became a perceived threat because they were always in danger. How to remedy this problem ... eliminate the humans that will jeopardize the mission. Needless to say, the offensive worked and we were able to eventually eradicate the Ta'l Krec from our planet."

"However," interjected the Aid. "This did not go without notice and public out-cry. With the Ta'l Krec gone, the re-organized government of Earth wanted a complete shut down to the program. However, as stated, Humans were now perceived as a threat. The Soldiers refuse to be 'decommissioned' without a fight. Radicals gained control of beta copies of the INTELLIGENCE program and created their own template - however, not a pure template. The tainted DNA Soldiers were far from Super, they were more or less, Golems. Mindless entities with the sole purpose of destroying the Stone Clones. This war, I'm sorry to say, is still on going. "

"So this vial contains the pure template. The pure essence of ... me?"

"Purer still, "stated the General between hits. " You and I are part of the doped DNA strand. Your varying remembrances of Angelique are part of that doping. Sometimes she's French, Italian, Swed, or good old fashioned American. The problem is, non of us remember the true Angelique, so she exists differently in all of us. You remember her as a brunette with brown eyes from France. Me, I remember her as African American. The Sergeant here remembers her as Asian. All of us agree that Angelique is real, but not which one. But that liquid template holds the answer. We can create a new inoculation and administer it to every clone world wide. Where as there may be some risk, most all of us will have that DNA doping eradicated from us and hence the war will end within months."

Taking a cigarette from the open pack on the table, Dean lit up and stared at the three clones of himself. He slowly exhaled, "That sounds so simple. Why hasn't INTELLIGENCE implemented this itself?"

The Aid and General looked at each other in a moment of silence. Finally, the General spoke. "INTELLIGENCE was officially decommissioned six years ago. This island and this compound is all that is left. The World court deemed it too dangerous to exist. Its assets ceased, its database plundered, we are the only remnants. Fearing to go back in time and create another ripple, we have brought you here. You have completed your mission, Dean. You can save us. The world. Angelique. Now, hand over the flash drive, Captain, and complete your mission."

...


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Dean hands the flash drive over to his other self. The general smiles and
inserts the drive into a central usb port. The tall monitor lights up, and
shows the blueprints of the template, and other technical components to
help further their cause.

" Dean, you did the right thing, I knew we would" The general said to his
former self. Due to Dean's action, the two merge, Dean and the general. The Aid grinned in delight.

And then a side door opened, it was Angelique, truly looking beautiful,
symmetrical features, flawless skin, sharp luschious features,
dressed in a white gown, she was glowing. She must be
an angel from the heavens, the merged Dean thought to himself.

Angelique looked at the monitor and then at Dean, and said " My dear,
this is what we have been waiting for, use this knowledge."


Dean then touched a button on the monitor, and then Angelique
and he were somehow transported into the computer.

Then...

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[align=justify]Dean opened his eyes and snapped his head to the right. The red LED lights displayed 4:55. He allowed his eyes to adjust to his surrounding and realized he was back in his own bedroom. Reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the table, he flipped one from the pack and dragged it slowly the rest of the way with his lips. He searched the table and drawer but couldn't find a match or lighter. Stumbling from the bedroom, he made his way to the kitchen. The stove igniter clicked several times before the burner flared to life. He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply before turning off the burner and turning on the light.

Filling the glass coffee decanter with water he could barely hear the radio alarm emitting from the bedroom. Trudging back to the bedroom he flipped on the light and hit the snooze on the alarm clock. "Get up sleepy head ... you are gonna be late."

"Five more minutes, Dean." mumbled a feminine voice muffled by pillows and blankets.[/align]

...


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The woman removes the blankets, and we see a true beauty, classic features, lovely in her pink night gown.
Dean is taken back and asks " Where is my love-"
The woman puts her delicate hand on his lips and says " Shhh, Dean, I am here, now are you going to come with me finish
the space transporter or not?"

Dean says :

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Dean kisses her hand, it tastes like honey. He then brings her close, and says " My dear, I would fly to the end of the Universe for you, of course I will. Show me the way."

The mysterious olive skinned woman coyly smiles and says " Good, lets do this." She takes him to:

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Entering his study together, she escorts him to the bookshelf. Flipping down a series of books, but never removing them from the shelf or their location, the shelf separates in two. Behind it lies and consul with photonic screen and crystal controls.

"How long has this been here?" He asked already knowing the lie she would tell him.

"It's always been here silly," she said watching Dean mouth the exact same words.

Dean turned away laughing in spiteful annoyance. "Let me out of this program!"

"Dean, my-"

"Love!" he bellowed taking the letter opener from his desk and rushing back to Angelique. He held its point at her throat. "Don't even go there lady. I don't know who the ... what the hell you are - but you are not Angie!"

Tears welled in her eyes before running down her cheek. "Mon amour, je jure-"

"Je ne suis pas votre amour. Soyez silencieux, chienne!" he barked with eyes venomous and cold. "Last chance, guys. I'll kill this woman. I swear it!" The room was deadly silent except for Angelique's sobs and Dean's heart beat. The lights didn't flicker or darken. The surroundings did not dissolve away into particles of sand. Nothing unusual happened what so ever. "I mean it! Simulation or not, I'll kill her!"

"Dean," Angelique whimpered. "There is no one here but us. No one."

Dean pushed the tip of the letter opener slightly upward ever increasing the pressure. "I told you to be quiet."

The phone on the desk rang which abruptly ended the silence. Dean slowly retracted the letter opener and took a step back to the disk. Knocking the phone over, he scrambled for the receiver, never diverting his eyes from Angelique. "Bonjour, this is the General."

"Dean - This is Lt. Colonel Sterns. We have been compromised." Spoke the garbbled and heavily static ridden voice on the other end of the line. Dean recognized it instantly as his older selfs Aid. "We are no longer controlling the program - repeat: we are no longer controlling the program. This operation has been aborted - repeat: operation has been aborted. You are the only true copy. Safe guard yourself and we will try to make contact again if we can."

"I understand." Dean announced.

"God bless you, sir ... and good luck."

"And Angelique, Colonel? What of Angelique?"

The static resonated through the phone for several seconds. "Angelique, sir?"

"The woman?"

The static continued, "Have you been compromised?"

"What? No!" Dean protested. "What about the woman?"

"Is she with you?"

"Yes!"

"There is a 25% chance program has been compromised. Within 24 hours, 100%."

"How will I know?"

"Visually, you can't, sir." The sound of loud electronic clicking bit sharply through the static. "This trunk has been breached."

"How, Colonel? Tell me how!" Nothing but static and the piercing clicking filled the speaker. Dean maneuvered his way around the desk and checked his phone line. "How can I tell the compromised Angelique?!? Colonel! Colonel Sterns! Jim!"

Suddenly, the sound of a gentle guitar filled the handset speaker as an old Beatle song played through the static. Closing his eyes, a single tear fell down Dean's cheek. Hanging the receiver back on it's hook, Dean ripped the phone cord out of the wall and hurled the phone through the plate glass window of his study. As the curtain and rod became dislodge from their settings, the cold morning air rushed through the hole followed by the sound of light morning commuters.

"What did he say?"

Dean looked up at the woman who claimed to be Angelique. "It was a song. Our song to be exact. The problem is, ma jolie, is I don't know who played it. You see ... we've been compromised. So either Sterns was sending me a warning or the other side is trying to fool me. Either way-" Dean shrugged.

Angelique composed herself. With quivering lips she asked, "Our song? How would they know our song?"

"That is a fine question," he confessed as he removed the top to his cigarette decanter. Striking a wooden match on the desktop, he lit his cigarette and casually tossed the match into the ashtray as it slowly burnt a few millimeters before extinguishing. "A damn fine question. We were compromised after all."

"You don't think they purposely-"

"Oh, I think nothing of the kind. You see, there are no records on me, you, or anyone loyal to the cause. The best kept secrets are those that don't exist. There are less than a handful of people who know the song played is our song. A few may have discovered it was a Beatle song, but the exact song, is beyond my talents of guessing probabilities. However, if they did get lucky, it would prevent me from succeeding with this mission and further complicate things, would it not?"

"Oh my, I am sure I don't know." She announced coyly as she slowly stepped towards the desk.

Gripping the cigarette between his clenched teeth, he pointed the letter opener at her and wagged its tip."Ahnt-ah. I think you do know. What I also think is that you don't know the name of our song. Do you?"

"Vous etes le plus idiot. Of course I know."

Dean exhaled smoke through his nose as he laughed. "Naturellement vous savez. I have no doubt. So sing me something from it. Juste un peu suffira. A verse ... the bridge ... even the chorus will do."

Angelique stared past Dean and at the broken window. She could see the sun rising and feel the biting cold albeit simulated breeze creating goose-bumps on here programmed skin. Returning her gaze back to Dean, she stared into his eyes. Deep, dark, lifeless cold dead eyes. "There are places I'll remember - all my life - though some have changed. Some forever not for better - some have gone and some remain."

Dean smiled and rose to meet her. "All these places have their moments - with lovers and friends, I still can recall."

"Some are dead-" Angelique stopped abruptly and stared at the letter opener sicking from her chest just above the left breast.

"In my life - I've loved them all." Dean concluded. "But not you! You are not my Angie!"

She tried to speak one last time before collapsing to the floor like a marionette whose strings were suddenly cut. As she landed, she fractured into a million pixels and spread across the carpet before they faded into nano nothing shortly there after.

Dean retrieved the letter opener and returned to the desk. "In my life," he scoffed. "Not even frickin' close." He jabbed the letter opener under the desktop to break it free and violently flipped the top off sending all contents flying across the room. Underneath the false top was a less then state of the art console and monochrome screen. He flipped on the toggle-switches and watched the crystal LED's flare to life. A amber cursor began to flash in the upper left corner of the screen.

Dean typed: >ARE YOU THERE?<

<DEAN?>

>YES MY LOVE<

<WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?>

>I HAD TO KILL YOU<

<SO - WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?>

> º±º I HAD TO BE SURE DIDN'T I <

<OF WHO? STERNS OR ME?>


Dean thought for a second before responding. >BOTH<

<STERNS IS GOING TO START THE RIPPLE ANY MINUTE.>

>THEN THE MISSION WILL CONTINUE AS PLANNED. ONLY THIS TIME - INTELLIGENCE WONT BE ARTIFICIAL.<

<ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO GO THROUGH WITH THIS? I STILL HAVE TIME TO ABORT STERNS COUNTDOWN.>

>I AM SURE. WITH MY KNOWLEDGE AN IMMUNITIES, THE TA'L KREC, STERNS, MY CLONES WILL SELF CORRECT. I WILL BE THE TRUE INTELLIGENCE THIS AI NEEDED WITH A LIFETIME OF PRE AND POST WAR MEMORIES. AND THE BEST OF THEM ... WILL ALWAYS BE YOU.<

<JE AMOUR TU>


As Dean began to type his reply, he could feel the shift occur. The broken window self healed and rod with curtains returned to the support hooks. The instrument panel behind the bookshelf broke down into pixels and the shelf closed again. The room took on a less sophisticated and articulate feel, downgrading to simple polygons and textures. The amber cursor blinked on the screen with a steady rhythm like an artificial heart beat.

* * *

"Madame, President," reverberated off the walls and broke the silence of the room.

Angelique looked away from the flashing cursor and examined the oval office. "Merde sainte."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing Williams. I was just breathing in the moment."

"Yes, ma'am. The Mutual Anti-Aggression Pact between Earth and the Ta'l Krec is unprecedented in human history. Much like the other reforms and policies you have achieved during this term."

"Some would say unprecedented would they?"

"Quite Ma'am."

She paused and removed her coat from the wooden hanger beside the portrait of Washington on the East wall. Stopping at the desk, she typed: <THANK YOU, DEAN> in the IM window and clicked send.

"May I ask you a question?" Stammered Williams nervously.

"Absolutely, but only if you help me on with my coat."

Williams assisted and asked, "You always thank, 'Dean,' at the end of your speeches. I know he was your late husband, but you were married less than a week before he went missing. Do you still believe he is out there? And if he left you, why do you thank him?"

Walking to the office door, Angelique smiled. "Dean's not missing, Williams. He went into service for his country and his planet. He is an unknown hero who is still serving us everyday. And even though you and the rest of the world may have forgotten him as a man, I never will."

"So you don't believe he's dead then?"

"The courts would claim differently. I prefer to hold on to the belief that a man's spirit never dies. An everything I have accomplished in my life since his passing has been a direct effect of his spirit watching out for me, you, and everyone else." She paused and smiled. "Get the lights please, Williams."

Williams turned and reached for the light switch. He looked around the office and though about her words. Smiling, he shrugged and turned off the light. "Good night, Dean - and thank you. Your wife is a wonderful person and president."

As Williams turned, the solitary light from the hallway streamed through the door way. As the door closed, the oval office fell black except for the computer monitor. The blinking cursor highlighted a single stream of text. >YOU'RE WELCOME, MR WILLIAMS.< Moments later, a series of pictures transpired across the screen with the last being a shot of Angelique and Dean on a white sand beach. The caption along the bottom simply read: Hawaii - '92.


The End


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