Hemostasis 3.5
"I expected something... better. But the place is indeed not obvious, I'll admit."
Stopping at an old dry-cleaning building, I once again looked at the card with the number Neuman had given me. When I called it, some girl answered, simply stated an address, and immediately hung up. I barely memorized it, quickly writing it down on the same card. Heading here, I suspected I would encounter some secret base, but I didn't think it would turn out to be this underground. Although how would I know what they're supposed to look like?
I drove here lost in thought. I spent the entire previous night analyzing the risks, trying to figure out what to choose, and whether it was worth joining this venture at all. On the one hand, it's obvious there's a catch here.
I always need to keep in mind that I'm talking to a supe whose powers are unknown to me. I didn't see any obvious mutations like tails, but beyond that, it could be anything. I felt an extremely developed system of blood capillaries in her brain, which could mean the presence of a complex ability like telekinesis or magnetism. The consequence of intense brainwork, which is also often found in professors and scientists. I have it too, but that was the most I could find out about her.
The first thing I suspected, of course, was telepathy or empathy. But even after several hours of meditation at home, I found nothing. Either the influence was too subtle and strong to recognize, or my suspicions were unfounded.
Over the years, I have developed my own system that theoretically allows me to detect influence on my consciousness. I constantly monitor the reactions of my body, such as hormone release or increased heart rate, and am reflexively able to notice sharp, causeless spikes. I haven't tested this method in practice yet, but it's something.
But even if Neuman wasn't a telepath, her proposal seemed too complex. Deep down, I felt she was deceiving me, but my "ability" asserted that she hadn't lied to me anywhere. I pondered her words from different angles, trying to latch onto something, but in vain.
The only question was—how much do I need this myself?
On the one hand, government support promised enormous opportunities. A whole senator could open all doors in life for me. Even Vought, with all their money and influence, hasn't managed to penetrate the highest echelons of power. At least, as far as I know. But judging by the fact that their attempts to return supes to the military failed, things aren't going that well for them.
On the other hand, such a practice is an incredible source of compromising material on me, with which Neuman will be able to threaten me for the rest of my life. Because if information about my initiative surfaces, even I will be finished. Not just my career, but my whole life. I'm sure Vought has enough resources to take even me down. And Victoria's family ties didn't help me calm down.
However, this was somehow a far too convoluted plan. After all, Neuman was also risking her career, built on supporting the supe regulation act, and if I were to release the information to the masses, which Vought would definitely pick up using their personal TV channels, she could face very big problems. She can't know that I'm not a corporate double agent myself.
Too little information with stakes that are too high...
The main question is, what do I want to achieve? For Vought to be shut down and all the guilty parties jailed? That would be nice, of course, but something tells me this will only lead to a redistribution of power and the fact that supes will dance to the tune of the government, not the megacorporation. Not a particularly pleasant trade-off, honestly.
But just ignore all the victims? All the children they most likely experimented on? And even though this isn't the most logical and beneficial behavior for me, I simply didn't want to be a person who would go for that.
And besides, something tells me that behind the walls of their laboratories they will definitely be looking either for a way to copy powers, or they will try to create a weapon capable of stopping anyone, even the most audacious and powerful hero. I won't believe that Vought wouldn't resort to such measures. And that could already become a threat to me personally.
I will get Vought's secrets and show them to the public, and then I will do everything to ensure the guilty face justice. Vought needs to be weakened, but it's best to do so while the government does not have total control over the heroes. It's safer for the whole world that way...
"Hello! Oh, you're the one who called us, right? You want to meet the guys? Let me show you the way, they're home now!"
As soon as I stepped into the dry cleaners, a nimble girl in her twenties quickly ran out from behind the counter, waved her hand at me, grabbed my palm, and actively led me aside. She had a wide smile on her face, and in all her movements it seemed as if she was genuinely glad to meet me.
Except I saw that inside she was absolutely calm and was merely playing her role in front of me. It's also curious that she possesses suspiciously good physical conditioning for a receptionist girl. Such a level is more suited for some operative with field experience.
She led me into some storage room filled with cabinets containing various chemicals, then walked up to a bare wall and started knocking on it. I watched her actions with interest, trying to find logic in the knocks. In theory, I already felt all the people around, even hidden deep underground, but I was curious about their defense methods. The girl knocked on the wall while continuing her chatter.
"You know, we've been waiting for you, otherwise this Canadian has completely annoyed everyone. Oh, or is he just European?" she rattled off, seemingly ignoring my confusion. "Ugh, God knows, honestly. What's the difference, really? So, he's offering his pills, and he doesn't care that I still have to go to college later, and then call my parents, and also this butcher..."
I still couldn't understand what her knocks meant, however, a minute later the wall in front of us clicked, opening a passage somewhere into the darkness. The girl turned to me, winked, and waved her hand, inviting me to pass.
Chuckling, I stepped inside, except she didn't follow me, and the moment I crossed the threshold, the door quickly closed. It would have been a decent trap, but it wouldn't have stopped me—my power doesn't care about meter-thick steel walls. Or is this lead?
Having no other choice, I started walking down the corridor. There were no people here besides me, at least no one visible. Theoretically, I felt dozens of people behind the walls, but the corridor was empty. After a short journey, without the possibility of even turning and looking into another room, I arrived at a spacious room where, it seems, they had been waiting for me.
"Oh! And here comes the super-cunt! Glad to welcome your majesty. What would we ever do without you..."
There were five people in the room, not counting me. The first to step out to me was a bearded, clearly tipsy man in a dirty jacket and an old shirt, who spread his arms to the sides with a wide smile and bowed slightly. There was also a tall Black man sitting on the sofa not far from the entrance, who covered his face with his hands out of obvious shame.
He had very good physical conditioning, and I could see that such a type of muscle development is more characteristic of the military. Besides him, there was also a skinny bald man in the room, shifting his gaze from me to the bearded guy. I felt a high concentration of, hmm... Benadryl in his blood? Ah, no, Adderall, right.
Away from this whole group stood a much more businesslike-looking gray-haired woman in her sixties. She kept her arms crossed and looked at the bearded guy with obvious annoyance and even anger, shaking her head slightly.
It was easy to notice how much she stood out against the general background—she was the only one wearing formal attire, which included a black jacket, pants, and a white shirt. And she was the first to speak, putting the drunk guy in his place with an icy tone.
"Butcher, pull yourself together if you want to stay here," the woman said seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. "If you can't hold your tongue, get out of here, don't interfere with the negotiations. Or do you need help finding the exit?"
She had a dry but very harsh voice, from which one could easily understand—she is no stranger to commanding someone. Only the bearded guy clearly didn't care about all this. He either coughed or simply snorted, but one could see in his gaze how much he didn't care about anyone. He was only interested in my figure, and it was easy to tell—he didn't like me. Very much.
"I could tell you where you all can stick your tongue..."
"Glad to meet you too. Mark Shetty, but you can just use my first name."
I didn't care about the boorish guy, so I simply walked past him, extending my hand to the rest. The first to shake it was the skinny guy who jumped up. He shook it quickly and actively, giving me the opportunity to examine him closer.
The man was dressed in a gray-green sweater with a suspiciously large number of pockets, which clearly contained something not entirely legal, judging by the smell. Also, up close, I could see that he clearly has Arab roots.
"Please forgive our leader, *mon frère*, he dislikes your kind too much." The bald man spoke with a slight European, clearly French accent. "You understand, the flying, strong, and all that. Everyone calls me Frenchie, you can too. Nice to meet you, I hope we can work together."
Despite the suspiciously large amount of drugs in this "European's" blood, he seemed like a pretty good guy. He was smiling, and I felt that he was genuinely glad to meet me. Except such an attitude only fueled the anger of my relentless hater.
"Since when did you become Judas?" The bearded guy rolled his eyes, while undisguised sarcasm could be felt in his voice. "Come on, don't pretend you'll grovel before him too. What about the brotherhood you talked so much bul..."
The guy shut up when a pillow from the sofa, sent by the Black man, flew into him. He looked at him furiously, but quite quickly shifted a guilty gaze in my direction. And I even saw that he was sincere. True, the bearded guy also genuinely hated me, and to the very depths of his soul.
"Butcher, one more word, and we'll really kick you out of here." The Black man even yelled slightly. "Shut your mouth if you have nothing useful to say."
The Black man also got up from the sofa, shaking my hand. He had a powerful voice, as well as a rather strong grip. For an ordinary person, of course. I had learned to control my strength a long time ago, so I responded with a firm grip as well.
"Don't pay attention to this crybaby, he'll definitely stop whining someday." He briefly shifted his gaze to the bearded guy but quickly returned to me. "Everyone calls me Mother's Milk. I hope we can work together."
I spent the last eleven years of my life in constant training and examinations, trying to find the limits of my own power and develop it as much as I could. I spent a few months living in an orphanage for supe orphans with unstable psyches, where each of them could simply tear me to pieces at any moment or brainwash me and turn me into a spineless doll. I spent years under Vought's surveillance, perfectly understanding that the companies hand over all information about me. Every week I come to help injured animals, not paying attention to how dangerous they are. For years I trained my willpower, resilience, and ability to keep a straight face...
However, even despite all this, I barely restrained myself from laughing. Barely, but I still held it in.
My face was absolutely calm, and my voice as neutral as possible. I showed with my entire appearance that I didn't care about his name and was absolutely not interested in how one could even get such a thing. First impressions are the most important; it's better not to ruin them. After that, I turned to the woman who approached me, but she was satisfied with a single nod.
"Grace Mallory, Deputy Director of the CIA and coordinator of this operation," the woman introduced herself calmly. "The information isn't particularly secret; you'd have found out yourself later when you started digging into me. I won't lie, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad there are people within Vought who understand how mired in lies and corruption their whole agency is. People possessing your capabilities are especially useful."
After that, she once again cast a glance towards the bearded guy, who had already found a bottle of whiskey from somewhere, opened it without a sound, and started drinking straight from the bottle. In fact, everyone in the room was looking at the guy, however, no one showed sympathy towards him.
A rather unique approach for a so-called "leader," which says a lot about the team, however, it didn't prevent me from conducting a rather secular conversation. It helped that I felt how my calmness and politeness annoyed the alcoholic more and more.
"I just do what I think is right. And if Vought commits crimes, the guilty must be caught..."
"The main thing is not to lead to yourself during the investigation, right? You know, why don't you go f..."
"Butcher!"
Mother's Milk briskly walked up to him, took the bottle away, and tossed it aside, after which he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him aside. The man didn't resist and acted as if he was doing everyone a favor, while continuing to look at me with a crazy smile. Funny, does he really think this will scare me? Grace only threw a glance at him as if looking at a pile of dirt and waste, commenting on his actions.
"And that's William Butcher, the unofficial leader of the team," she nodded towards the drunk. "Though I'm not sure he can keep this title, considering his current state. Because if he can't put away his blind hatred and stop engaging in idiocy, then he doesn't belong here at all."
The man muttered something unintelligible, walking aside and sitting on the sofa. He looked as if he was insanely infuriated by the very fact that I was here, and it was even impressive. I felt him clench his hands and, in principle, was ready to pounce on me at any moment. Usually, people were smarter and understood that fighting a supe hand-to-hand is a very bad idea. But this madman seemingly didn't care about things like logic or the instinct of self-preservation.
Almost every superhuman has increased strength and durability, not to mention more unique abilities. And even if I went up against the greatest martial arts master, he would have no chance against me. An ordinary person won't even be able to block my punch; I'll just punch through meat and bones. However, the bearded guy is still ready to fight me, despite all the odds.
"So what is your brilliant plan, of which I am supposed to be a part? Please, just don't tell me he came up with it."
The bearded guy was already about to shout something in my direction again, but Mother's Milk quickly shut him up. No, seriously, that is obviously not a name, but how can one even get such a nickname? I can't even imagine the conditions necessary for that.
"Forgive him, *mon vieux*, our friend decided to prepare for your arrival in his own way. He wasn't exactly thrilled by the fact of working with a supe..."
"But if he wants to work, he will abide by the agreements and behave like a loyal and smart little dog," Grace said sternly, looking at the man, after which she shifted her gaze to me. "Don't worry about him, we have more important things to do. We've been spying on Vought for several years, trying to find out their secrets. We've managed to learn a lot, but we still don't have evidence that can be presented in court."
Mallory approached me and handed me a stack of papers. I took them and quickly skimmed through them while she briefed me. And it was a rather curious read, as it detailed Vought's alleged sins.
And there was the full set! Bribes, rapes, contract killings, covering up media personalities in crimes, and more. Dozens of names and cases were located on just one page, but I had a whole pile of papers in my hands. However, I was also surprised by the ease with which they handed these documents to me. Suspicious ease.
"Purely out of curiosity, why are you so sure that I am not a corporate double agent who came here to find out your secrets?"
To my surprise, the drunk, who had already calmed down significantly, was the first to answer. He threw a glance at me, from which it was clear what he thought of my intellectual abilities.
"Boy, do you think ordinary people without powers are useless? It's written all over your fucking... face. I can smell your kind from a street away—a rebellious teenager who is for everything good and against everything bad. You don't even need to call in the specialists here, everything is clear anyway," the bearded guy took the floor again, but now he looked significantly calmer and ready for a normal conversation. Even if his defiant manner of speaking remained, from which one could clearly understand who I was to him.
"Butcher, albeit in his own manner, is right. First, we didn't choose you just like that and conducted our own investigation. You are not an undercover agent, because Vought hires people of a completely different breed for such positions. We are not fools and have been butting heads with them for a long time, so we've met their people; believe me, we have ways to identify them," she chuckled slightly, but the woman's gaze remained cold and calm. "And secondly, who said the government doesn't have its own supes? Even if they don't work as openly, they don't complain about the salary and privileges. In recent years, Vought has begun to particularly stubbornly promote specifically their mastodons. And everyone wants a good life."
Now this is interesting information. I've suspected for a long time that the government couldn't afford to miss out on all sorts of useful supes. Not those who possess direct and simple physical strength, but more subtle specialists. Telepaths, empaths, prophets, and simply those whose powers don't sell very well, but are simply indispensable in their aspects. Funny enough, if you think about it, I also fall into this category.
"Well, in that case, I don't mind helping you, if you are truly ready to stand against Vought's crimes. And since you are so interested in Vought's secrets, I have something to tell you..."
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