It made a strange sound as it whizzed toward Mike. He decided to move, but not soon enough.
The hot beam struck his left shoulder, knocking him back against the wall. Thankfully, he stayed air-borne, but discovered a numb feeling in his left arm. He tried to lift it, and found it was paralyzed! Feeling slightly drained, he forced himself not to panic, then floated to the floor, to save his energy.
"Get him! Get him! Now!" someone shouted, and Mike found himself fighting off guards who had shot at him. He had no worry of killing anyone accidentally in this battle. His strength seemed to be slowly ebbing away ever since the laser shot hurt his arm. After approximately ten minutes of fighting, the guards lay, unconscious.
"Stay back! Back, or I'll...." Gen. Gauge cried, standing in a corner.
"No, you're leaving with me no matter what you do or say."
"You foolish idiot! Nothing can stop me! My forces are everywhere!"
"We'll see about THAT!" Mike said sarcastically. He floated a bit into the air then swooped down and grabbed Gen. Gauge, his functioning right arm around the man's waist. Then, he was off so quickly he was outside the building in no time, and back to the command post. His passenger had been quiet during his flight, and Mike had wondered if he'd been unconscious, but he was shouting insults, one after another, as they landed outside at the same spot Mike had left The Joint Chiefs. The Chiefs rushed outside to meet them.
"Here's your traitor!" Mike cried, holding him as tightly as possible.
Guards were summoned to take the man into custody.
"You are now under arrest officially, by The United States Government," The General
Of The Army told him. "Do you have anything to say before you are taken into custody by the guards?"
"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for that no good bastard of a punk that thinks he's some kind of hero!" the General growled, pointing to Mike.
"He doesn't THINK he's a hero, he IS one!" one of The Joint Chiefs replied. "Get that man out of here before I do something we promised not to!" he ordered the guards, then when he was gone, "We want to thank you, son, our COUNTRY wants to thank you for what you've done. What can we do to repay you?"
"Nothing....there's nothing...." Mike mumbled, feeling dizzy. He staggered back a few steps, putting a hand to his forehead.
"Are you all right?" The General Of The Army asked.
"Er, I need food, lots of it. I've been hurt, and food is the only thing that will restore my energy enough for me to get home. You don't have to worry about if it's cooked. Could you bring me lots of food?"