HEROES Chapter 2

"Yep, I was an undercover cop har in NYC fur a while then aftar they figured out I had "special" abilities they suspended me. So I pardnered up with a few others like me but with different talents. Well when the govnmt decided we was doin' more good than they could and wouldn' go on the take they comes up with The Riggs Act and started huntin' us down. Some they thru in the slammer and others they deported and sum they just plain kilt."

Tim's face showed the saddness of lost friends and brothers in arms.

"Well sum of us went underground an' I moved back ta Dallas, thanks ta some friends on NYPD my files kinda got misplaced. So I went ta work fur Dallas PD as an undercover cop. Well ta make a long tale short. A friend calls one day and tells me of another parder who died under strange circumstances. So I comes back to NYC fur the funeral and all hell broke loose. A buch of bikers hired by one of thye bad guys tried ta kill us all. Thar was a shootout and I lost most of the rest of my friends, semptin' fur a few. We gots split up an I'm tryin to get back ta them." Tim looked at Morgan "The government is tryin ta stop us from doing some good by getting rid of the bad guys. ....... Guess thar ain't much profit in not havin' crime."

"Well now Morgan, I don' think the feds have made the connection yet 'tween me and the 'Vigilante' , so long as we keep ar' heads down, I reckon evertin' be alright. Just thought ya shuld know. In case ya want ta take off on yur own, but I sure would like ya ta hang 'round." he said "I figgur we cin hep each other out."

Dressed in an undershirt and his dress pants, Henkel was sitting in front of the TV, leaning back in his chair when, Jameson entered through the door of the motel room with a twinky in his mouth and a chocolate milk in his hand. Looking back at his partner he commented, "I don't know how you can eat that crap and still get to sleep."



"Helps me think." Jameson replied as he closed the door and flopped down on his bed.

"Think? Shit, when I sleep, I sleep. I close the door on all this crap." Added Henkel.

"Yeah, but —"

"Hold on second." Henkel interjected, "Take a look at this."

Jameson rolled to the other side of his bed to get better view of the TV and saw that Henkel was watching the late breaking news, 'news as it unfolds'.

The caption of the report read, "Another Vigilante in New York. Another crime or about time?", then it cut to the scene at the Battery Tunnel, and showed video of the charred remains of the assault vehicle and the wreckage of Jameson's car.

"...Police and FBI gathered to investigate the remains of a vehicle that was involved in a high speed pursuit earlier this evening, the chase finally ending with an explosion in the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel." Commented the reporter, then they cut to a video of Prospect Heights. "It was only hours later, after the incident at the tunnel that police in front of this diner were alerted to a shooting that involved two men who were both currently on parole. Then just an hour ago, we were alerted to another incident on Bergen Street where three members of the Diablos gang where shot and sent to hospital. Is there a connection? We have learned that all three incidents are being investigated by the same FBI agents. We have been unable to receive any comment from them, but sources tell us that they are calling the vigilante, 'The Wrangler'..."

Henkel threw his hands up in surrender. "Can you believe this shit!" Then he spun around and gave Jameson an accusing stare. "You didn't talk to anyone did you?"

Jameson looked appalled. "You think I would compromise our investigation by talking to a reporter?"

"If she had a nice ass." Retorted Henkel.

"That happened one time. Once! And I paid for that one. Why do you always have to bring that up?" Defended Jameson.

Henkel shook his head and turned his back on Jameson who kept on nagging at him for an apology.



As Yelena threw her heel into the chin of the closest Marine, Toril turned to face his opponents after blasting the Captain's plasma rifle away from his grasp.

The bigger Marine sprang toward him like a cat while the other leapt for his weapon and Toril had to think fast. With all of his strength he drove his knee upward toward his attacker's lowered head, an attack that the well trained soldier had anticipated but Wraith knew that the big man would have been confident enough to attempt to block his powerful leg. The Marine greatly under estimated his opponent's strength and Toril's knee broke through his block and caught him square in the face. A shock of pain ran through Toril's leg where the man's chin pressed into his knee and Marine was knocked off his feet. While the Marine topped backward, suspended in the air, Toril spun, throwing the hardest back kick he could muster. His foot caught the man square in the chest, knocking him back and directly into the other Marine who was diving for his weapon.

In the split second Toril turned and threw out his kick he had turned and could see Yelena and the Captain flying out the door of the cabin with the fourth free Marine in pursuit. The other that had sustained a devastating kick from the shape-shifter remained on the floor, shaking his head in attempt to fight off unconsciousness.

His eyes turning forward with his rotation, Wraith saw the other Marine deftly pass under his larger comrade, scoop up his rifle and roll into a crouched firing stance. His momentum pulling him forward, Wraith had little choice but to dematerialize and follow the larger unconscious soldier as he soared out the window and into the branches of an evergreen tree. The other Marine fired a series of rapid pulses toward him and in an instant several white tongues of electricity licked the air around Wraith's non-coporeal form, one bolt striking him in the arm and another grazing his leg.

Disrupted by the electro-magnetic bursts, Toril became solid once more and landed heavily atop the Marine he had kicked out of the window. Rolling to his feet, grimacing in pain and holding his left shoulder, he hardly had time to catch his breath before the Marine flew out of the window and slammed his combat boot dead center into Toril's chest. Weakened and his meta-abilities depleted for the moment, Wraith couldn't use his flying ability to lessen the impact of his fall or flip himself right side and so he crashed into a fallen tree the force of which breaking through the old wood.

The Marine shot of a stunning plasma burst at the fallen super-hero but struck only the old log as Wraith managed to roll behind the dead tree. He knew he didn't have much time before reinforcements arrived so he had to deal with the soldier quickly, but that was proving to be more difficult than he had planned for. Possibly even ten years ago, he might have been able generate more meta-power, but despite his training age had robbed him of that extra natural endurance that would have allowed him to make that extra vortex or wind blast.

Toril could feel his strength of his meta-powers returning but before he could scrounge up the energy to rid himself of the Marine, a small grenade landed beside him, forcing the meta-human to leap to the side as it exploded into a bright flash. It was only a flash grenade but it flushed Toril out and directly into the path of his opponent who had him dead bang. The Marine squeezed the trigger and Toril closed his eyes but nothing happened. Dead battery! Without a moments hesitation, Toril engaged the man in hand to hand once more, overwhelming him with sheer strength and speed until he connected with low kick and capitalized with a devastating upper cut that knocked the Marine out cold.

Pain still ripped through Toril's arm but it wasn't slowing him down, much and quickly he rounded the cabin to where Cassius had parked the ambulance. Unfortunately the Marine that had been fighting to remain conscious after Yelena's kick had managed to pull himself to his feet and leaning out a window laid down another series of rapid pulse bursts at Toril. He was able to make behind the ambulance and from there he could see Cassius being loaded into one of the humvees and two soldiers were carrying the unconscious body of Yelena!

"Damn!" Toril cursed under his breath.

The soldier that had just fired on, Toril came running out to the front of the cabin and informed the others of what happened. The Captain still rubbing his granite jaw after tangling with Yelena began barking orders and immediately five men sprang into action and began to close on the ambulance from both sides of the cabin.

The Captain had remained behind with the smaller soldier called Chaos to guard the prisoners while the others slowly scouted around the cabin for the meta-human known as Wraith. Chaos kept his weapon trained on Yelena and Cassius and all the while the Captain stood with his back to the humvee, he head low as if watching something.

Toril approached silently, drifting on the wind to disguise any sign of his presence. Fortunately a breeze was blowing toward the humvee but as he drew nearer he would have little choice but use kinetic force to move and in the black of the night his faint glowing aura would attract a watchful eye. He drew closer, hovering just a meter before the Captain who oddly enough had his eyes downward, concentrating on some device in his hand. Toril did not have the time to inspect the device in the Captain's hands, but if would have the former super-heroe would have seen that it was tracking device designed to locate very minute traces of electro-magnetism of the type that Wraith used to move while in his wind form. Even as Wraith produced an aura for a split second before materializing and throwing a powerful fist toward the Captain's jaw, the Marine had known where he was a few seconds prior and had plenty of time to react to the sneak attack. Not suspecting that his strike would be countered so effectively, Toril was completely over extended when the Captain sided stepped, leaving himself completely open for a crushing hay-maker. The Captain drove his fist across Toril's jaw and the force of the blow knocked him to the ground, but he was far from down and done playing the peaceful hero. If the Marines wanted a fight, he would give them one. Even as the Captain brought down his fist to finish him off, Wraith focused his powers round his body, stirring the air about him, first blinding the Marine with dirt that was thrown in his face then as the vortex increased the Captain was caught into it and thrown over the humvee.

In moments a small twister had formed around Toril, spinning with such velocity that the humvee began to rock and slide, almost causing Chaos to lose his footing, but he made sure he kept his weapon on the prisoners. The other soldiers closed in on Wraith and fired their plasma rifles, but the rapidly spinning particles in the funnel acted as shield, dispersing the blasts, illuminating the twister against the night sky. Toril's eyes burned a bright blue and his face was full of rage as he threw a jet of wind at one of the Marines, carrying the man high into the air and throwing him beyond the cabin falling to his death.

"Shoot to kill!" Ordered the Captain as he pulled himself up off the ground, leaning on the hood of humvee.

The soldiers quickly switched over to their standard weapons but Toril stood his ground. He knew the twister would only divert a few of their rounds, but he had drawn first blood and was willing to pay for his actions. Pulling upon every last ounce of his strength, Toril channeled all of his power into the vortex, and the soldiers were forced to hit the ground as they were pelted with sand and dirt thrown by a powerful gust.

Cassius could feel the air pressure changing rapidly and felt his ears pop. The humvee began shake and high winds bucked the frame, pushing it through the sand and closer to the water. The Marine called Chaos, at one point was thrown aside and the Captain was forced to retreat down the beach.

The Marines pitted in and half blinded from the blowing sands began to fire their weapons toward the twister. Another Marine was struck by high powered jet of air, spinning him through the air several times. He landed hard and didn't move and the barrage of gun fire continued, closing in on their target until their weapons were torn from their hands and scattered to the winds.

The night did not obscure his specialized vision and though Toril could not make sense out of what happened to the rifles of the Marines he thought only to take advantage of the situation. His strength waning, Wraith prepared for one last assault when there was a bright flash of light and the entire area was bathed in electricity. Toril's form was a dark image in the midst of a white field, then as all became dark once more the winds faded and the large man collapsed to the ground and did not move.


The last thing Cassius remembered was Toril being tossed into the back of the humvee then he and Yelena were administered a sedative and all went black. He awoke with a pounding head ache laying on a cot in a cell no bigger than his bathroom, in fact with a toilet in the corner and a sink crammed next to it, he considered that maybe it was his bathroom. There were no windows, a solid steel door at one end, and the only other openings were two tiny vents on each wall near the opaque ceiling that shed a soft white glow. Through the vent to his left while facing the door, Cassius could hear the deep familiar voice of Toril.

"Yelena. Cassius. Are you there?"

Prior to Cassius' revival, Yelena had been blind folded and taken from her cell by two men dressed in military uniforms. They walked her down a long corridor, at times nearly dragging her as it was difficult to keep up with their pace since her legs were shackled and her hands bound close together. After about twenty paces or so they paused at a doorway and Yelena could hear the sound of a scanning device, then the sound of two doors sliding apart. They took a few steps then turned right down a another long corridor until she heard a door open where she was taken inside and thrust down into a chair. Yelena could hear the guards leave and close the door behind them, then silence. She could feel a table in front of her but could hear nothing else in the room so without further hesitation she removed her blind fold.

She was sitting midway at the longer side of a large black table. In front of her was a styrofoam cup and a plastic pitcher of water. There seemed to be one light in the plain windowless room and it was directly over the middle of the table where she noticed there was another chair on the opposite side. A few minutes later a man entered the room, his features hidden the shadows. He was a wearing a brown coloured military uniform and was carrying in his hand a file folder. Yelena took note that though the man appeared to be in his late fifties there was an air about him that made him seem much older. His slow walk to the table was deliberate, almost a saunter, and she could tell that he was studying her as he crossed the room then he pulled out the chair and sat down. He took off his hat and placed it beside him on the table, next to the folder he had been carrying. As his face came into the light, the first thing that she noticed was the scar over his right eye that had disfigured his once handsome face, then as she peeled back the years and filled in the lines of his features she recognized who he was.

"Aleksandr?"

The man smiled fondly at the memories generated by the mention of the alias. "Hello, Yelena. It has been a long time." Vacily said to her in perfect Russian.

Tim , turned down West Fifty-Seventh street and into The Holiday Inn driveway, up to the front doors and looked over at Morgan. "Morgan I am right tuckered out and I reckon you coud use a tad bit of rest as well. Why don't we mosey inside an' I'll get us a couple a rooms so we can rest proper?" he said "I could use a shower an shave, I reckon I'm a bit gamey 'bout now. Come mornin' we cin get us a proper breakfast an hit the trail again."

Henkel lied in bed staring at the ceiling while his partner jabbered on. Apparently there was some sort of concert or music festival going on and they had been fortunate to get one of the last remaining rooms. The auditor assured them that the Holiday Inn was booked solid, but Henkel was calling bull-shit on that, and now he was stuck with an agent hopped up on sugar. He felt like going back to that guy, demanding his money back and checking out, but he was too freaking tired.



"I wonder how long he can stop time for?" Jameson contemplated, "I mean, from what I read, moving through a time warp is extremely hard on a person. The more that time is slowed and the length of actual time that the mutant distorts supposedly increases the amount of wear and tear on their bodies. What would you do if you could stop time?"

"I'd get some &%#*ing sleep. Why don't you shut down that 'drive thru', pal and get some sleep." Answered Henkel.

Jameson ignored his partner's request and carried on with his theories and while he rambled on, Henkel ran through some of his own. The man had to sleep sometime he thought, hell maybe he was sound a sleep right now. He just hoped this 'Wrangler' had what he needed to get that son-of-a-bitch that black mailed him into setting up that hospital fiasco. Some of his fellow agents didn't even believe that Beacon was real, but he knew, and he was going to bring them down. All he had to do was catch the Wrangler.

Personally, Henkel really didn't give a crap about the man's vigilantism. So far, he had been doing nothing but taking out the garbage along the way and as far he was concerned had being doing the public a service, but he couldn't turn a blind eye to his destruction of the hospital's emergency entrance. It was their reckless and unpredictable behaviour that made vigilantes dangerous despite their intentions, and why they had to bring him in. It was proving difficult though, their trail of bread crumbs was all but depleted for the moment and without physical description or decent profile they were searching for a light switch in a room the size of the grand canyon.

After slipping the shot gun under the front seat, "Well, Morgan, I right jus' take ya up on the drivin'." Tim said "But don't ya go talkin' like ya been smokin' loco weed. Ya needs ta get sum real rest, I'll get connectin' rooms, just keep yur glases on and folla' my lead on this."

Just then the two vallets walked up to the car and each opened a door. "Welcome to the Holiday Inn." one of them said as he extended his hand to hel Morgan from the car.

"Thank ya kindly thar son." Tim said with a smile "Now ya take real good care of this here automobile son." Tim then walked around, took Morgan's arm and said softly 'Thar are four steps up, Miss Morgana, then six strides ta the door. As he guided her, as if she were blind, thru the door he said again in a soft voice. "Twentey-five steps ta the desk."

When they arrived at the desk he placed her hand on the counter and said to the desk clerk "We'll be needin two adjoining rooms. We are not ta be disturbed." Tim then filled out the registration form under the name of Johnathan Ruppert ..... Capitol Records Inc. and gave the desk clerk an American Express Gold Card under that name.

The desk clerk ran the card and it came back approved, he then handed Tim the keys. "Will there be any luggage sir?" he asked with a suggestive smile.

Tim said sternley "Listen har young man ya watch what yur thinkin'. I'll get the luggage frum the car in tha mornin'. Now ifin' ya don't mind Miss Morgana needs ta get some rest."

The desk clerk flushed with a bit on embarasment. "Please forgive me Miss Morgana I did not recogize you. Your photographs do not do you justice. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask. It is a privilage to be of service."

Tim then escorted Morgan ta the elevators and they stepped in, Tim pressed the button for the seconnd floor and the doors closed.

"Now don't ya go frettin, lets git ya in your room an I'll mosey down an git yur bag." Tim said as he led her to their rooms. He unlocked the door and they stepped inside. Tim immediately locked and secured the door. He then walked ove and opened the connecting door. He placed the security latch on the door the adjoining room and wedged a chair under the door handle. "Now I'll be righ' back ya lock and latch tha daur when I leave. I'll knock twice then wait ta the count of four and knock once when I gits back." He then turned and left the room, rode the elevator down and told the desk clerk he needed a bag from his car. The desk clerk summoned onbe of the vallets to accompany Tim to the Mustang, where Tim retrieved Morgan's bag. Ten minutes latter, they retuned to the lobby and Tim slipped the vallet a twenty dollar bill "Thank ya young man." he said and returned to Mogan and his rooms. He knocked twice counted to four and knocked once.

A string of swears escaped Zoe's mouth as she swiftly severed the links to the communication devices. This had gone to hell a little too quickly and she was sure they had been screwed long before those soldiers appeared. The word slipped like acid from her lips as she lit a cigarette and shut down the computers that surrounded her.

"Beacon..." she hissed through gritted teeth. There wasn't a lot of room in her seething mind for much rationalization, but something told her only Beacon would pull this kind of crap. After a moment of puffing, she re-established the link in Cassius' ear. "Dominic..." There was a long pause before her beloved's familiar voice brushed lightly against her ear in a barely audible whisper.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I'm coming in. I know it's probably what they want, but there's plenty of escape routes there."

"I got yer back," came Cassius' whisper another moment later. Nodding more to herself than anything, Zoe cut the link again and turned to the desktop directly in front of her. Taking one last long drag, she crushed the cigarette into the ashtray beside it and laid her hands on the tower. In an instant, her eyes flashed bright red before her entire body seemed to melt into a viscous silhouette of herself. For a mere second, her form was that of a straight, black liquid through which thousands of glowing green 1s and 0s flowed incessantly before seeping into the computer itself. Moving swiftly through the familiar currents of cyberspace, Zoe headed purposefully for that familiar computer that always left a bad taste in her mouth.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn awoke to nothing familiar. The smells around him were metallic and dank, the feeling empty and cold. He was alone in a straight room, lying on what felt like a thin mattress on a slab of concrete. The pounding in his head had reduced to a kind of dull throbbing, but his body ached as though he had been lying there for months. It was only when he went to explore his surroundings that his heart jumped and began to flutter. His hands wouldn't move. For a fleeting but terrifying second, his arms felt paralyzed to his sides but further pulling would reveal the tight straps that dug into his wrists. The same pressure wrapped around his feet, binding him to the bed. Now Shawn's sightless brown eyes opened and for the first time, a tremor of true horror washed over him. A faint sound escaping his lips, Shawn struggled against his bonds but they wouldn't give.

With no idea where he was or what had happened to the others, he could do nothing but lay and wait, his mind stirring. Had he been stupid to trust them? Had they turned him in? Maybe they found out he'd killed and freaked out... several of them could easily have been that kind of weakling... or had they all somehow been captured while he was out? As his mind whirled, his body tensed as his heart picked up pace. He hated not knowing. He needed answers, but right now, there was no one around him and even if there was, he couldn't move to even find his label maker, let alone read it.

As anger blazed through him, Shawn pulled and struggled again at the straps around his hands. Yanking and twisting with all of his might, the tough straps seemed to just tighten around his wrists, bruising and cutting into his skin until he gave him and fell panting back against the bed. Bound to his sides, his hands-- his eyes and his voice-- were locked away leaving him helpless, silenced and blind, until someone chose to free them.

A woman wearing a stylish grey jacket over a white blouse and a form fitted mid-length skirt walked purposefully down the hallway of the military installation. The guards could hear the familiar quick clicks of her heels even before she rounded the corner and though tempted neither of them shifted their eyes downward at the beautiful woman as she approached the doorway.

"Good morning, Miss Tessier." Greeted one of the guards, his eyes remaining forward.

The woman offered no response as she slid her key card through the lock then stared into the camera of the facial recognition scanner until her identification appeared on the screen verifying her as Sara-Lynn Tessier, Programming Analyst, Security Level 5. The doors slid open, revealing a long dimly lit corridor and Miss Tessier proceeded through.

She walked to the end and repeated the process to open the next set of doors then made her way along many different hallways with black doors. She stopped before a door labeled 'E-429', inserted her key card in the lock and entered a dimly lit room with several computers and monitors filling the walls.

Tessier, shut the door behind her, walked down a stairway and stopped at one of the terminals. She entered a password into the system then removed a key from around her neck and inserted it into the largest computer in the room. As she turned it, the darkened window at the far end of the room lit up as the area beyond it began to power up. She walked over to the window and observed the circular chamber illuminated by fluorescent lighting that ran vertically along the walls. Far below was a table in the shape of a human from which several bus-lines began, snaking along the floor and up the walls of the cylindrical room, extending to the ceiling where a large array was suspended, pointing down at the high tech sarcophagus.

In the center of one of the monitors was a Beacon icon that was flashing red. She touched it, and another screen came up titled 'Transmission Log'. Under the 'Detention' sub menu she took note of the name 'Cassius' and across from it was a tag for a communication transmission that had occurred early that morning. A malicious smile curled her lips. they could not decipher or track the transmissions of Killswitch, but they could at least know when they were made.

She procured her PDA and sent a text. 'She's on the way.', was all she typed, but the receiver would understand the meaning.

Standing on his bed, Toril was tall enough to get his mouth near enough to the vent and was trying to contact any of the others. He called out and while he awaited a response he could have swore that he heard Yelena's voice followed by the sound of a slamming door.

Toril climbed off the bed and just for the hell of it laid a kick into the solid steel door just to vent some frustration and test its strength. The door didn't even budge, nor hardly make a sound, it was like kicking the side of a mountain and it was obvious that anything shy of the late Battalion's strength wasn't going to break out of the cell. He sighed, threw back his head and rolled out the kinks in his bull neck. At least he was alive, who ever or whatever and eliminated the weapons of the marines and knocked him out had actually saved his life, 'but would life be worth living anymore?', he wondered as he stared down at his hands. Both his wrists had stainless steel bracelets sealed on them, and so long as the metal contacted his body he could not dematerialize, so who ever had them was at least familiar with his own abilities.



Toril had just about given hope for a response when Cassius' voice echoed through the vent. "Hey! Dude! Does your cell smell like cat piss and b.o. too?"

The big man laughed and hopped up on his bed. "Cassius. Have you heard from Yelena?" He asked into the vent.

Toril could hear Cassius shuffle around then call for her through another vent. There was a pause then he called back. "I dunno, maybe she's still unconscious."

"I don't think so." Toril replied and he knew then that they had taken her away. It was probably going to happen to them all.

"So, like do you have any idea where we are? And can't you just, like, do that ghost thing and get us outta here?"

Toril chuckled. "I'm afraid my 'ghost thing' is out of commission right now. I am pretty sure, however that this place is military." He surmised, then running his hand along the metal wall he could sense no magnetic fields, "And the walls are made of a non-magnetic alloy, but aside that I don't have a clue where we are. How about you, any ideas?"

There was a bit of a pause before Cassius replied, "Nada, dude. All I know is that right now I need a friggin cigarette."

"I think that's the least of your worries right now." Said Toril as he sank down and sat on his bed.

"You obviously don't smoke, man. If I don't get a freakin' smoke in like ten minutes, I'm gonna bust through this freakin' door."

Toril laughed again and shook his head. 'If only that were the case', he thought.

Tim , watched as Morgan arranged her weapons. Then walked over and wedged a chair under the enrtyway door handle. "Your welcome, Morgan....I'll just be leavin' the daur open betwixt ar rooms, ifin' that is a'right whit ya. Now ya try an git sum shut eye." Tim said "I'll be right next daur ifin' ya needs me just giv a hollar."

Tim then turned and started for his room, as he reached the connecting doorway. Tim stopped and looked over his shoulder. "I am right glad ya ar here Morgan and don't ya go frettin. We are as save as two coyotee pups in a den. So ya gits some sleep." Tim then stepped into his room.

Several hours latter, Tim got up, out of the chair next to Morgan's room where he had slept and walked to the doorway connecting Morgan and his room. She was sleeping peacefully with her hand gripping the hilt of he Bowie knife. He stood there a moment bare chested and watched her sleep. Tim then turned and had she been awake she would have noticed the tatoo (COWBOY) on his left bicept. Tim then stepped into his room nd into the bathroom. There he showered and shaved. Stepping back out wearing just his jeans, Tim called down to the desk "Ya this is Mr. Ruppert in 216 I need a couple a pots of coffee, a couple of arders of steak and eggs, two eggs each over easy, a couple of arders of toast, a pitcher of arange juice and a New York Times. Be sure ta bring it ta 216 I don't want Miss Morganna bothered." he said then added "Any messages?"

The desk clerk said "No no messages Mr. Ruppert room service will be up in about ten minutes."

"Thank ya kindly." Tim said hung up and walked over and turned on the television, low to the morning news on FOX, he ythen sat down in the chair by the connecting doors so he could watch the news and be close to Morgan's room.

(OOC NOTE – Any conversation between Vacily and Yelena in this post is spoken in Russian)

When Yelena saw the face of the man sitting before her, two emotions washed over her. One like a wet wool blanket and the other like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her. Seeing Aleksandr again made her think of the compassion he showed her during her detainment at the detention center in Siberia and then, seeing him now, she was certain she was about to be deported back to that place.

As all of these things went through Yelena’s mind, Vacily could read them all like an open book as they crossed her face. The confusion followed by recognition followed by a moment of pleasantness followed by stark terror. Swallowing hard, she glanced around the room then for some sort of escape but Vacily’s voice quickly dashed any hopes of that. His Russian was impeccable.

“You’ll be shot before you could make five feet from the door. If you cold even get out the door in the first place.”

Yelena snapped her head back to look at the man sitting opposite the table of her. Blinking se narrowed her eyes as she studied him closer then let her gaze slowly ease down to see his uniform. It was brown, yes, but the rank insignia and medals weren’t Russian. And as her eyes strayed over to the sleeve she could see the corner of the American flag. Now she was more confused than ever.

“I….don’t understand. You were in the detention center. Observing their tactics. And you were wearing a uniform of the Mother Land. And now you wear an American uniform? Perhaps you should be called Chameleon instead of me.”

Vacily actually chuckled and nodded.

“Perhaps. But that name was already being used and I didn’t want to steal any of your thunder.”

Yelena moved her feet and hands causing the chains of her shackles to clink softly.

“I’m not opposed to sharing the name. Maybe then I’d be able to fade into obscurity again and live my life. Instead of being hunted like a wolf accused of killing a flock of sheep when I did no such thing. Just because I’m not normal doesn’t mean I’m guilty of anything. Until the Riggs Act made it a crime, that is. And allowed other countries to adopt their own versions of it.”

Vacily furrowed his brows slightly.

“An unfortunate truth that I’m trying to correct.”

Yelena quickly leaned forward then and practically hissed at him.

“So coming to Siberia and watching them do what they did to me and the others is just part of your research, Aleksandr? Or is Aleksandr your real name?”

Vacily didn’t even blink as Yelena made the quick movement.

“Colonel Vacily Petrovsky, United States Marine Corps. And what I did was research for Beacon.”

Yelena could hear the command in his voice and she scoffed at him.

“Oh….well that makes it alright then. For you to come to another country and see the deplorable conditions we were forced to live in and the experiments they forced us to endure. Because BEACON needed it. You’ll understand why I’m not all that impressed by your story. Vacily….Alexsandr or who ever the hell you are.”

“I don’t expect you to be.…”

Before he could say anything else, Yelena interrupted him.

“NIET! You don’t have the right to ask or demand anything of me. You sadistic asshole. If you wanted any cooperation from me, you should have done something back in Siberia.”

Vacily sat staring at Yelena for along moment and let the silence settle over them like a white elephant. He tapped his fingers on the smooth surface of the table before he leaned in and lowered his voice.

“Who do you think swapped your paralytic drug for nothing but saline solution? You don’t honestly think you became immune to it, do you? Who do you think just happened to leave clothes where you could find them? And made sure there was a supply truck leaving at the precise time you just happened to be making your escape?”

Yelena blinked and her expression changed as she sat back in her chair and let her memory take her back to that time. She was weak from the lack of food and the effects the tests, radiation and drugs had done to her. All this time she thought it was because of divine intervention that she was able to escape and now, she is learning it was because of this man. Her eyes snapped back to his face and she lunged for him.

“Why the hell did you wait so long to help me?! A year!! You stood there and watched what they did to me for a whole year! You could have stopped what they did to me long before you did, you son of a bitch!”

Vacily sat there, unmoving as he watched her struggle against the shackles that held her back. When she had been set in the chair, her arm shackles had been to the table and her leg shackles had been locked to the floor.

“Do you know what they did to me?! To all the women?! DO YOU?!!”

Vacily blinked slowly and leveled his gaze to Yelena’s. Before his eyes the shape shifter allowed her illusion to drop away and she stood before him in her true form, naked but yet not. Her hair was a brilliant red, her skin was blue and it appeared to have scales in different places, her eyes flashed a metallic gold and she had what looked more like claws for fingernails now. Placing her hands on the tables surface as she leaned over as best she could, she made sure he got a good eye full of what she really looked like.



“Look at me. This is what they turned me into. I’m not human anymore. I can’t be myself in public anymore. But this isn’t the worst. Then again, maybe you were watching. Or for all I know, you were one of them. Tell me, Aleksandr…..do you enjoy raping women?”

Yelena looked down at the man who sat before her now and watched his face. Finally she sat down and morphed back into her usual illusion and bowed her head. Her voice was barely audible when she spoke this time.

“Leave me alone.”

Vacily was not at all surprised when Yelena revealed her true form, he had seen it before long ago in the Siberian Detention Centre. He had never forgotten her and had always regretted the decisions he made, but he did was for the greater good and in the best interest of meta-humankind.

"You cannot blame me for the atrocities of man." Defended Vacily, his language reverting to English, in a natural middle American accent with New Jersey undertones. "A regrettable misfortune of war, Yelena, is that we must make sacrifices, and make no mistake," he stamped is finger on the table with each word of his following statement, "this is a war."

Yelena looked away and remained silent but Vacily was determined to make her understand.

"You think I'm proud of what I do, of what I did?" He asked but when she remained defiant, Vacily's face began redden with anger. "Look at me, Yelena.", he demanded and as his anger grew the lights in the room began to flicker and that seemed to cue the Colonel to calm down. Reluctantly Yelena complied and turned her head toward Vacily, fearing that the repercussions for disobedience in this facility may be no different than Siberia.

Seeing the hint of fear in Yelena's eyes as she thrust her golden stare upon him, Vacily leaned back and his features softened. "God dammit." He cursed himself, "I am not your enemy and I don't want to hurt you or your friends."

"But you may!" Snapped Yelena.

Vacily threw his eyes to the table and sighed, collecting his thoughts. He ran his hand across his chin as if trying to pull out the right words and then he continued, "Siberia was a difficult time, for everyone. I was working for the C.I.A. then, under the cover of Aleksandr Ruskov, a prominent soviet weapons specialist researching meta-abilities to further Russia's military strength. I was there to gather intel on the meta-humans they had gathered but I never really imagined what men were capable of until I walked into that place. Every stinking day I was there I wanted to burn that place to the ground but I had another agenda to follow, for Beacon, and it was more important than you, or anyone else in that facility."

Yelena's interest was piqued and leaned in to hear more and Vacily was about to indulge her when his PDA chimed. He quickly looked at the message, 'She's on the way', and quickly responded with a single word, 'Proceed.' He then returned his attention to Yelena.

"I don't know if you knew this, but they had hidden beneath that installation a secret that the world needed. A meta-human so powerful that he could make this god forsaken planet worth living in again, I'm talking about Battalion.
They had discovered this young mutants one weakness and that was when his body was denied ultra-violet radiation for a day all of his powers with the exception of his invulnerability were lost. And after three days, he went into some kind of stasis and there he would remain until he felt UV radiation again, and all it took was under half an hour for that guy to recharge his batteries." Vacily's eyes glinted at the memories as recalled watching the young meta-human become a god before his eyes. "The American public never knew that the meta-human, who became the poster boy for truth, justice and the american way was from the Ukraine. It's a shame he's gone, the world could use him right now."

Yelena could not agree with Vacily more that the world needed a saviour but there was a lot more that he had not mentioned. "So what you want with, Killswitch?" She probed, challenging him to show his hand.

Vacily clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward, smiling. "Okay, okay." He said, nodding, "You obviously know more than I believed. Good, then we'll just shove the bull-shit aside. Does that suit you?"

Yelena nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders.

"Zoe has a unique ability that can't be duplicated. Believe me, Yelena, we tried but we can't execute our plan without her." Vacily explained, and he almost looked like he really cared.

"What plan?" She asked, not thinking Vacily would relinquish such knowledge but oddly enough he continued.

"We have a machine here, a machine that can wipe out every database on the planet. We can erase information, whether it's hard wired or not with the touch of a button but we need, Zoe to make it work."

Yelena was puzzled. "Why not just ask?"

Vacily shook his head. "Now this is the part you're not gonna like. Once, Zoe becomes part of the machine, it's permanent." his eyes fell to the table once more searching for answers that just didn't exist, "Her mutant ability will take her conscience with her, and the Zoe you know will cease to exist. She'll become a program that will enable us to wipe all records of meta-humans. Think about it, Yelena, you'll be free! All of you! We'll wipe out the records then crash the economy, bringing the super-powers to their knees and when all hope it lost, people will turn to us for protection. They'll see that we are meant to guide them, not these corrupt politicians." He said waving his hand at the doorway, then sensing that he was not getting through to Yelena appealed to her moralty, "Just think, no one will ever have to endure the pain you suffered, ever again. When you walk down the street, people will look at you with admiration. You will never, ever again have to hide.

"All you have to do, Yelena is help me and if you don't want to betray your friend then just step aside and not interfere. That's all you have to do. So what do you say?"

Vacily sat there, his eyes wide and hands open in a gesture of friendship awaiting her response.

While FOX on Tim's T.V. discussed the apparent murder of a powerful criminal under boss, a computer deep in the recesses of Beacon's headquarters blipped to life. Looking out through a harmless looking DOS window, Killswitch peered into a dark, empty room. Scanning the room, she saw only a locked door in the back of the octagonal, windowless room, and vanished once more, the computer shutting quietly off. When she resurfaced it was within the glow of several monitors that faintly illuminated another empty room. From the files that rushed past her consciousness, she could tell that the computer had been very recently used. So recently, in fact, that the user could very well have just exited the room. Too risky... she had to connect to Dominic and find out where he was first. As she turned to leave, however, a record caught her eye and she quickly reached out to retrieve it.

All it said was Dominic Cassius, but the file's nature seeped into her mind like a telepathic message and she swore silently, the impact catching her very breath. They knew when she and Dominic communicated. If they could pick up any messages from it, she couldn't be sure, but the file was enough to make her destroy the communication device and shoot on through the cyber highways.

"Who the @$%$ are you?" Boss demanded for the umpteenth time as Grey stepped into his office that evening.

"You said you wanted to see me," Grey hissed, lighting a cigarette and leaning casually against the wall. It was almost the same conversation every time he entered and he was more than used to it. As he blew a puff of smoke through his nostrils, his face ticked as though he were wincing just slightly and the realization dawned on his boss. Clearing his throat, the boss called off his lackeys who had begun sizing Grey up and lit up his own strong-smelling cigar.

"Jesus, how the #(%!@ do you do that?" Boss grumbled as Grey took another step into the office and pushed the door shut.

"Fatty..." Grey muttered before peeking up at his boss to see if he had heard the involuntary remark. If he did, the older man gave no sign as he puffed idly on his cigar and dug through the thick carpet of papers that covered his desk. He waited until his boss seemed to find what he was looking for. Pulling a remote from the abyss that was his desk, he flipped on the T.V. and surfed quickly through the channels until he found the local news. For several minutes, Grey stood wondering why he was sitting in his boss's office watching the reporters blather on about pointless issues and the assassination he himself had committed until the story shifted to a dark neighborhood not far from his own. His boss eyed him as the pretty young reporter told of an apparent vigilante who had cropped up and killed several street-walking punks in his wake. No witnesses seemed to be willing to come forward, but police were looking for a man with a heavy Texas accent. When they broke for a commercial, the boss shut off the TV and looked expectantly at Grey who merely peered back at him.

"Am I supposed to be scared?" he said finally.

"No, stupid, we want you to find that guy!" the boss snapped, whacking a folded up newspaper hard against his desk.

"Why? I ain't no cop!" Grey shot back, shifting his weight as he took another puff from the cigarette.

"Go get 'im and bring 'im here or I'll have your ass in the can with the other freaks!" his boss shouted, pointing a gun at him with eyes blazing, his teeth bared as they clamped onto the cigar. For a moment, Grey said nothing, glaring up at his boss and barely suppressing some rather loud and filthy tics that were begging to be released. Finally, as the pressure began to build, Grey simply turned and stormed out of the office, waiting until he was good block away to let out the loud string of insults and swears which turned several disapproving head.

Hands shoved in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, Grey tossed the cigarette butt into the parking lot of a Holiday Inn, thinking and fuming about how he was going to find this guy.

"REDNECK!" he shouted uncontrollably, his voice echoing into the night as he focused on his one given clue about the man.

As Tim was watching the 7:00am news of the suspected assisination of a NYC criminal gang boss, he heard the subdued murmmered screams from the next room. He softly stepped to the doorway and leaned against the jam, watching as Morgan hugged her knees and rocked back and forth.
Tim thought a few moments then said softly and calmly "Morgan, what happened ta ya and what happened ta Cassie ain't your fault. Ya can't go blame yurself. People like us are put har on this earth at this time fur a reason an' like all people an things that ar different an misunderstood we're persecuted an vilified. I kin only 'magin what harrors ya have been put thru. But ya gotta rise above em an put em' behind ya. Ifin' ya don' thay ar gonna destroy ya. An' I ain't gonna let that happen'. When we git ta Troy, ya ar gonna meet sum people like ya, only different. I mean people wit special powers, thay have all been abused, inprisoned and hunted. We'll see ta it ya get yur revenge an hep a lota good folk along tha way. My Grandpappy useta tell me that vengence is a meal best served cold." Tim then smiled at her and said ..... "Speakin' uf vitals breakfast shud be har in 'bout five minutes. Hope ya ar hungry."

Tim then stepped back into his room as the anchorete was talking to a psycholgist about the vigilante known as "Wrangler" and what he termed "The Vigilante Syndrome", which happens when law enforcement are either unwilling or unable to protect a community.

Yelena sat almost motionless across the table from Vacily. The only thing that indicated she was alive and not a seated statue was the way her chest rose and fell with each breath she took. Her eyes seemed to bore into the man before her. For what stretched out to an eternity Yelena stared hard at Vacily.

During this time her thoughts raced from one thing to another. Could he be serious? A way to erase all that has happened to them and allows them to start over and live lives they always wanted to? Able to hold their heads up proud in the light of day instead of skulking about in the darkness and hiding who they really were? Crush the Riggs Act and similar laws around the world that would end the mindless torture and degradation of those like her? Like…….himself.

It all made sense now. He, like all the others of their kind, was masquerading like a ‘normal’ person. Like Yelena herself did. When he grew angry with her earlier, she took note of the way the lights flickered as his anger grew. She could practically feel the static electricity fill the air around them. Vacily….or Aleksandr or what ever the hell his name was was no different than her. It wasn’t for all meta-human kind he was working so hard to end the discrimination and out right hunting of. It was for himself. And he was using Beacon as his tool. Self preservation has always been the driving force behind ambition. So why not let him do what he needed to do in order to help meta-humanity as a whole by executing his own agenda? And all she had to do….was….nothing. Just….let it happen.

The moment Yelena made her decision, Vacily could see the change in her gaze. When she finally leaned forward and the sounds of the chains that held her shackles secure broke the silence that settled between them, she spoke, in a perfect North Eastern American accent.

“Very well, Colonel. I won’t stand in your way. And in exchange for my blind eye and deaf ear, I want a front row seat to everything. I want to make sure me and the others don’t get screwed over. Like so many times before. And rid of these f*%$ing shackles.”

A slight pause before she spoke again in her native language.

“Deal or no deal?”

Vacily leaned back in his chair, rocking back and forth, carefully scrutinizing Yelena's response. All his long years did not allow him to be easily blinded by his own ambitions, and his grand scheme was too important to the world to allow his own personal feelings to interfere with it. Still, he longed to have someone by his side who remembered the man who he was, or at least the man he pretended to be. As time had lingered on for the man, companionship with someone he could relate to was becoming more important to him. Still, he had to remain vigilant.

"Well, that's the thing about deals. They are meant to be broken." He answered as he leaned forward. "You are very quick to betray your friend without a fight, so please understand if I doubt your conviction. Trust is a two way street, Yelena, you know how it is. I am afraid your chains have to remain for a little while longer but for a good reason."

He put his hand on the file he had brought in and slid it over to her. "This is all the information we have on Killswitch and her boyfriend. As we speak, guards are taking Cassius away to another location. I want you to impersonate him, and gain the trust of Zoe. We can contain her, but your assistance would be most beneficial to our cause."

Vacily stood and placed his hat on his head. He looked down at Yelena with a serious cold expression. "I hope your speaking the truth. The life of your friend, Cassius depends on it. Betray me, and he'll suffer a slow and painful death. Are we clear?"

Meanwhile, four marines storm in Cassius' cell and roughly wrestle him to the floor. One of the guards administers a syringe that contains a fast acting sedative. Half dazed and near unconsciousness, the men carry him down the hall and to another, more obscure cell under heavy guard.