Moya frowned as she cut the connection after she told the courier to get back to his friend and get some rest. She glanced over her many screens, watching how Cole's tracking signal didn't move. Probably was still out of the loop.
Well, she couldn't really blame him for standing besides himself after meeting the bastard who blew up the Historic, but it was such an inconvenience to her job. If MacGrath had a nervous breakdown, then she would have to find somebody else to find White and the Ray Sphere. This would be a major setback.
Moya scowled angrily. Kessler. Bastard was screwing everything up.
DARPA had great plans for his work, had funded him and his First Sons with millions of dollars- and what for? A broken agreement, several dozen of her men dead and a crater in the middle of Empire City. Kessler was going down, but they needed the Ray Sphere before that.
Moya scowled, marching off to the side with her heels clacking sharply against the floor.
"Ma'am?" One of the technicians asked. "What are we going to do now?"
"Figure out what he told him", Moya ordered, "And keep a close eye and ear on him- we don't need him to disappear again."
Like yesterday. She hadn't been at the scene herself, but her men were. Cole had vanished, his phone had been lying on some roof over them- and just across the street was a scene of massacre. She did remember what he said, before the connection was lost. 'I'm not sure I can take that guy!' He had shouted, and that had been genuine fear. He assumed it was another conduit- one with claws, seemingly. And, seeing the aftermath of that guy taking out a bunch of Reapers, that much seemed to be true.
But seriously, where the Hell did all those freaks come from? Kessler was bad enough, then Cole. Sasha and Alden came next, both of them displaying powers they didn't have before the blast. Then, of course, those Reaper conduits Cole described. And now that guy with the claws? This was getting ridiculous.
She assumed they were lucky Cole got back in one piece afterwards. If he had died then they wouldn't have any chance but to get into the city with their force, and get White and the Ray Sphere that way. The civilians might have not been too happy about this, plus the public was going to frown on their invasion. Not something Moya really wanted to go through with. Invasions into American cities were always such a messy business.
However, as it was, it might get even worse, Moya thought with a frown. She glanced over the pictures her guys had taken of the scene- a sight that made several hard-ass ex-Marines throw up like little girls that couldn't hold their liqueur. A grim scowl pulled the edge of her lips down.
This mess was too much for a single conduit, even one with claws. They had found the remains of about a dozen reapers, bullet shells strewn everywhere and the guns stained with gunpowder residues. They had fired on whatever had attacked them- but they hadn't managed to fight it off.
And that thing apparently also wrecked an entire turret truck, spearing it from beneath- with what? The only explanation was giant spikes.
With all the super-powered freaks now running around, this was no great surprise, really. But the entire situation made her uncomfortable. The sheer amount of wanton destruction- no, there was only one explanation.
Her lips curled into a frustrated grimace. That explanation was not possible, however. That thing was supposed to be dead! Nothing survived being blown up with a god-damn nuke!
But what about those rumors she heard from before Manhattan finally kicked the bucket? This thing- had it really been back?
She glanced at the phone sitting on the desk. If it really was that thing though, then she should probably call those that knew how to deal with it.
Blackwatch. That name rolled off her tongue with a bitter taste. Founded by DARPA, then turned independent. They were deeper in secrecy than DARPA was, and they were so powerful even the President had to look up to see them.
But...Moya's eyes narrowed. If Blackwatch rolled in, they would take total control from her, and gun down everything that looked suspicious to them- including Cole. She snorted and turned around, glaring back at the screen. No, she would not call these bastards. This was her job, her mission. Nobody was going to take this away from her.
Plus...they couldn't be sure it was ZEUS, could they? Until now, they didn't have any proof, other than a scene of slaughter.
...Fuck it. Even if it was ZEUS, she would not call in Blackwatch. Empire City was hers- the Ray Sphere was hers. Even Cole MacGrath belonged to her. Nobody was going to take any control away from her.
-------------
It took Cole a whole hour to stop shaking. It wasn't so much the realization that it was Kessler- that he was a conduit like he was, that he was there in front of him what made him freeze in fear and glued him to that rooftop.
It was what he showed him. The images. The smells. The sheer panic. Cole had never felt this much fear in his life before, though he was sure as Hell this wasn't his own fear. No, this was something that came from somewhere else, like Kessler had taken the terror from many people and stuffed them down his throat.
Leading to a total nervous breakdown.
It took him twenty minutes to be able to breathe again, twenty more to stop trembling, and another twenty minutes until the tremors had finally died down.
Kessler was to blame for this- was the one responsible for this future he'd seen. Cole didn't know how the Hell he even ended up in all this mess- but he knew he had to stop Kessler. He had to prevent this future from happening. He had to- for Trish's sake.
There was no time to feel sorry for himself.
Cole growled and pulled himself to his feet, stumbling slightly when his legs refused to take his weight. He snorted, lightning flashing across his body agitated. He could not let this stop him, damnit. He was done being scared. He wouldn't be scared anymore. No longer.
He would find Kessler and he would stop him. To do that, he needed more power and to figure out where he was, though he was almost certain he was not in the Neon- so he would head over to the other districts soon enough.
Once he had taken down the Reapers and made sure the Neon was secure.
For now, he headed back to where he'd seen Trish and Christine last. He could need their input about where Reaper nests were, about how he could continue from there on. And maybe whether they knew something of Kessler or the other districts. He found them quickly enough, sitting on a low bench with both of them looking ragged. Christine's dog sat next to them, glaring at the passing pedestrians. More medics were spread across the place, moving around to take care of the people there. Cole's back was still crawling with panic, but as long he knew that she wasn't in danger, he knew it was just residue feelings. Nothing serious.
Cole dropped off the roof he was currently on, and hit the ground hard. The two nurses jumped startled, then relaxed as he approached.
"Shit. Good work there, Cole", Christine claimed, "Whatever you did- it stopped the spreading."
"Yeah. Tar kegs attached to the water towers", he informed them, "Had to blow them up."
"Thaaaat would explain your getup", the blonde nurse commented. "You kind of look like you took a bath in that stuff."
Cole glanced down on his suit, frowning. He was really splattered with the tar. It seemed like he had to shove his stuff into the washing machine again. He looked around, seeing many people that were brought into ambulances or treated stationary. "How bad is it?" He asked silently.
"Not so good", Trish replied with a sigh. "So many got sick from this stuff. And the clinics are overcrowded. We don't have much space left for them."
Cole frowned. "Is there...anything I can help with?"
Trish shook her head. "I don't think so. We can't do anything for them. We can only wait until that stuff wears off and make sure they don't hurt themselves during that time."
The courier inclined his head. "What about injuries?" He asked, "Bullet wounds, cuts, this kind of stuff?"
Christine shrugged. "Lot of people got shot by those fucktards. We're stretched too thin, and we need the medical supplies everywhere. Hey, if you know where to get supplies, we would be grateful."
Cole's lips twitched up in a little smile, despite the cold panic still gripping his middle. "I know something better. I can help you fix the injured up, then you'll have more room for the poisoned people."
"You", Christine deadpanned. "You have a medical degree I know nothing about?"
"No", Cole replied. "But you have seen how I heal myself when I get injured, yes? Well, what if I told you I can transfer this ability on whoever I'm touching?"
"I'd say you're crazy."
"It's easy to explain, really", Cole insisted. "You know, I can increase my own regenerative skills as long I've got juice. I can also help others with it." He furrowed his brows. "I tried it yesterday- with a kid that got gunned down by Reapers. Fixed him right back up." He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Listen- I just want to help."
"Why?" Trish asked.
"Don't know", Cole shrugged. "Maybe to show that I am not the bad guy here? Maybe to tell everybody that I am better than what they think of me?" This wasn't entirely true. He didn't really care what the others thought about him. Only Trish's opinion mattered. "I know you think I was responsible for this blast, but I wasn't. You have to believe me." He grabbed his phone, holding it towards them. "I have proof."
"I know"
Cole flinched back, staring at Trish. The nurse sighed. "I know it wasn't you, Cole. You are a courier- it is your job to transport stuff." She glanced at him, eyes blank. "I do not blame you for what happened. But..." She trailed off with an exhale. "I've seen you getting shot at. After what happened to Amy...I don't think I can watch you die as well, Cole. I don't want to see you die." She paused. "I...don't want to see you fall."
Cole blinked. "Fall? What do you mean with that?"
The nurse looked away. "You have so much power now, Cole. What if you grow tired of the way we are treating you? What if you attempt to make things right, but in the end you will just end up tearing everything down? I know it isn't in your nature- but power corrupts." She shook her head and took a few steps. "I am not angry at you, but I just don't know what to expect. I don't know what to believe anymore." She glanced back at him. "Until I know, please understand I can not be anywhere near you. I'm sorry, Cole."
She walked away, leaving Cole to stand there in silence.
Christine cleared her throat awkwardly. "Hey, uhm-"
He glanced at her, watched how she struggled for words. "Don't take this personal. You know she still loves you. The whole situation just fucked her up big time, so she needs some time."
Cole exhaled. "I know", he said. "You'll take care of her, okay?"
"Don't worry. She's in good hands." The nurse grinned a bit. "Now to you- you said you were going to help us fix the people, right? Were you being honest?"
"I was", he replied. "Though just that you know- I'm doing this for myself."
"I understand. Less people who want your head on a platter. Got it." She glanced at him. "You said you had proof?"
He nodded. "An audio file. Man named John White identified a guy named Kessler as the one responsible."
"Kessler?" Christine frowned. "I think I heard that name somewhere. Wasn't he the boss of the First Sons?"
"He is. Though that is all I can say." Cole inclined his head, frowning. "If you figure something about him, anything, I'd be grateful."
"I can try, though my options are limited", the blonde replied. She clapped his back. "C'mon. I'll get you back to the nearest clinic to start with your magical Jedi hoodoo." She paused, glancing at his clothes. "Though I insist you wear something clean."
-----------------
Quite frankly, Alex had been surprised about the courier. He had been scared- that much he could tell from the scent of adrenaline, the increased heartbeat and the constant tremor in his limbs- yet he didn't act the part. Instead, he had showed up at the clinic and, after switching into a pair of scrubs to wear something while his clothes tumbled through the washer and dryer, he went on to fix the injured civilians. Alex was no great fan on electricity, and seeing the lightning arch all over the wounded people made him flinch back with a snarl.
But then he watched how the cuts and bruises simply vanished in front of his eyes, growing shut almost similarly to how he healed. It surprised him, because he wasn't aware those powers could be transferred to somebody else.
Well, it wasn't actual transferring, it was more like the courier used the energy surging through himself to increase the natural self-healing in other humans to his own levels. At any rate, he had busied himself for several hours, fixing up anybody in every clinic in the Neon who had internal or external injuries, before he finished exhausted and returned home.
He wondered about this. So far, none of the people in the city had given him any reason to actually help them, and yet here he was, fixing them up without any reward- though, he assumed, the courier did it to impress his girlfriend and/or to make a few allies in a city that was out for his blood. Whatever floated his boat, Alex didn't care. Friendliness wasn't something he found indulging in worthwhile.
But he did recognize a potential ally if he saw one. Though they hadn't started out all too great (dragging somebody around and threatening to murder them might be a bit rough for a start), he was hopeful the courier would listen if he gave him something he needed. Worked when Cross contacted him and worked when he himself started dealing with Heller.
Luckily, Dana had managed to figure some things out about this Moya woman. Things Alex was certain the courier was going to want to hear. If anything, the man didn't trust her any more than he trusted him. So he waited for the next day to come while taking down a few Reaper hideouts and stealing as many of their weapons as he could, before he went to the courier's apartment he shared with that fat man, then followed him unseen for a while. The courier had moved across the rooftops for a while, then started to check up on the satellite dishes. Alex found himself briefly confused, until he realized that he was collecting the encrypted message logs somebody had left there.
It was easy listening in, his senses were highly superior to that of normal humans. Most what was said didn't sound interesting: it were mainly descriptions and requests for extraction, left by a man who seemingly worked undercover. But then he heard the name 'Kessler', and his attention was - the name the courier had mentioned, as the one responsible for the bombing.
"Was introduced to Kessler today." The voice from the recording explained. "He has some kind of metal device attached to his right arm, and his face was scarred, probably the result of an accident." Alex's eyes narrowed. A description was helpful, though to him it was easy getting better and more reliable information. "One of the other guards said that Kessler had been the leader of the First Sons for decades, but that he vanishes for long periods of time." The voice continued. He seemed to pause for a moment before he added: "Initial impression is that Kessler is a true believer. He has an agenda, and he's going to carry it out. We may have to move against him sooner than we initially planned."
Alex agreed with the agent on that one. Fanatics, and people driven by their own desires, were dangerous. Though until now all he heard was somebody attempting to undermine a cult. It was hard to believe that a cult could be responsible for what happened here.
However...what if this Kessler only used the cult on the front. Used their connections and resources to create the bomb. But then again what for? To give that courier powers?
Why?
Logically, it made no sense, because all he achieved in that way was to create another enemy. Alex couldn't believe that anybody actually wanted to make somebody into a foe able to defeat them. This wasn't human nature. And, right now, it didn't look like Kessler was trying to demonize the courier. No, the entire situation looked more like a testing ground- to train the courier. What for?
It made no sense at all.
Down there, the young man frowned and looked around, glancing over the rooftops suspiciously. Did he notice him? Or was he just looking for more Reapers to fry?
Speaking of Reapers- they had gotten more silent since yesterday. There were a lot less patrols around, as if they had pulled back. To gather their strength?
Between him and the courier hunting them down and blowing up their tech, Alex assumed they weren't all too keen to work themselves into the ground. Whatever it was, at least it meant he had more time now to continue with what he had planned because Dana wasn't in any immediate threat anymore.
Satisfied with his cursory search, the young man turned his attention towards his phone to call his roommate. Obviously, he was going to return to their apartment. Alex sighed- He would like to speak to him without any witnesses.
So he moved out of his cover and into plain view, noting the courier going ramrod straight, then immediately crouching into a defensive position. Alex didn't wait for him to contact anybody else and jumped over to the roof the other was on, hitting the gravel and tar with a heavy thud, while shooting out his Whipfist at the same moment. The courier flailed back with a swear, but couldn't move out of range fast enough. The silver claws seized the phone and plucked it off the strap of his bag, then Alex reeled it in, glancing at it before he dropped it into the pocket of his jeans to drag it into his Biomass and cut it off from the outside.
The courier scowled and charged up, letting lightning rush across his arms, and Alex slowly lifted his hands. "I'm not here to fight", he said simply. "I want to talk."
The man narrowed his eyes. "Sure", he growled, "That's why you just attacked me. Right?"
"I needed access to your phone", Mercer replied. "I don't want your contact to hear what I have to say." Well, to be honest, he could have done this by simply speaking in a low pitch again, but this time the courier didn't have any contact with the black tar, and a conversation with a partner who was inaudible would arise suspicions. Taking the phone off him was the easier choice. "You'll get it back once we're finished", he added.
The courier glared at him, his shoulders were still in an aggressive stance, but the lightning had stopped for now. "What do you want?" He growled.
Alex inclined his head. "What do you know about Moya Jones?"
The courier flinched back, lightning back up to defend him. This had been the first question Alex had back on that roof. Though, this time, he didn't expect an answer.
"I assume she told you she's FBI, right?" The minute twitch in the other's eyebrow told him as much. "Well, here's the news for you: She no longer is. She was FBI, working in the upper echelons, until she caught the eye of somebody else six months ago." He paused, inclining his head. "DARPA."
That got his attention. The young man's head tilted to the side. "DARPA?"
"I don't blame you for not really knowing about them", Alex shrugged. "Defense Advanced Project Research Agency. Their job is to find new technologies for the government to use. Weapons, mostly."
The lightning stopped altogether and the man's expressions turned quizzical. "Weapons?" His eyes darkened rapidly as he quickly pieced the things together. "That why she wants the Ray Sphere?"
"Ray Sphere?" Alex furrowed his brows. "The bomb?" He mused for a moment about this. "If it is a bomb, then there's no wonder she wants it."
"What do you know about DARPA?" The courier growled. "You could be telling me bullshit for all I know."
Alex lifted his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "DARPA had been the one responsible for Manhattan dying. They laid the foundation for the viral outbreak, though it was an offshoot of them that made things only worse." He cocked his head. "At any rate, the Ray Sphere should not end up in their hands."
The courier snorted. "I already came to that conclusion", he told him darkly. "I'd rather blow that thing sky-high than hand it over to her. Mostly to add insult to injury", he added, after a moment's thought.
Alex grinned. "Good choice", he praised. "Though for your sake- I hope you're ready for the Fallout. Moya is powerful."
The courier scoffed. "I know. Though I am going to find a way."
"Hiding won't work. You see, DARPA has its hands everywhere. They can find you whenever they want wherever they want. If you want to get her off your back, you need to get her to stop out of free will." He paused for a moment. "Blackmail works pretty well."
The younger frowned. "Why do you care?"
"As I told you, your powers are interesting. And dangerous. I'd very much prefer nobody getting any kind of control over them", Blacklight replied. "And, we are similar."
"Similar? Sounds like bullshit. I am not you."
"You aren't", Alex mused. "Nobody's like me." And the last thing that was he killed with his own hands. "But the entire situation is similar. You and I- we both were blamed for things we had no power over whatsoever, being called terrorists even though we were merely bystanders who just ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time." The younger man frowned, expression turning thoughtful. Alex vaguely waved his hand through the air as he continued. "Both of us were forced to fight to survive, against an entire city trying to take us down. Though luckily, our abilities allow us to survive where others would perish."
He lifted his hand and shifted to his claws for demonstration. In the bright light, the entire process was better to see, the talons less threatening than in the dark. The courier still flinched, but remained where he stood as he carefully glanced at the lethal organic weapons when Alex made no move to assault him. "You woke up at the bottom of a crater. I woke up in a morgue with two guys about to vivisect me." Hey, I knew this guy. He was Blacklight. He cocked his head. "I got out, and then masked soldiers just started shooting me, when I had no clue where- or who I was. I managed to get away. And then I figured out that somebody created a weapon. A weapon that killed thousands- and left me as the sole survivor with shiny new superpowers."
The courier's head snapped up, eyes wide. His jaw tensed a few times, though he didn't say anything. Alex assumed he was realizing how things looked. Their eyes met. "Like I said, we are more similar than you think."
"You aren't lying", was the baffled statement. "I know how lying looks like and you are not doing it."
"I wouldn't. This is too important."
"What do you want?"
"An alliance", Alex explained. "You can move more freely through the city than I can. I am still in hiding- you aren't." That wasn't necessarily true, but the courier wasn't aware that Alex was able to take someone else's form. Didn't need to know, either. "There is nobody else to take care of this, nobody else who can deal with this without wasting even more time. The lockdown needs to end as soon as possible. The faster this ends, the sooner either of us can go their own way."
"Really?" The courier drawled out. "And you're doing this from the bottom of your heart then, hm?"
"Fuck no" Alex snorted. "Screw the people here. I don't give a damn." He shook his head. "But the situation is a powder keg. Any spark can set it off- and I rather it doesn't. Because if the situation escalates, then they will declare martial law. Soldiers will invade, gun down everybody and tell the public it was 'for the best', then keep on lying until their lie has become the truth. I can not allow it, because it would mean that they had won- and I can not risk people realizing that I am still alive."
The courier frowned and looked over his shoulder, scanning the street. Alex watched him doing so, noticed how his fists curled and relaxed. "Okay", he sneered eventually. "Say I bite. What then?"
"You remain the face of this thing, but I will pitch in however you need me to. This city is too large for you- too open for me to show my face. But with you taking all the spotlight, I can make sure whatever needs to be done gets done without drawing too much attention."
The courier scoffed. "Sure." His eyes narrowed and a few sparks crawled along his shoulders. "You nearly mauled me to death, you forced me to play along. Why should I even trust you?"
"You can't. You shouldn't trust me", Alex replied with a cold smile, "And nothing I say will do anything. I can not be trusted and I have attacked you to silence you. Because you were going to tell Moya about me. I could not allow it. Though, believe me, if I wanted you dead, you would already be. But I have no intention to actually do so." He cocked his head, watching the man closely. "All I always wanted was to be left alone- and that won't work if the city is going up in flames. Also, I doubt you are just going to stand by and watch it die, will you?"
The courier shook his head with a growl. "No." He glared at Alex for a moment, before he huffed out and turned his head away. "Shit, I know Moya's using me. I know she wants me to get my hands on the Ray Sphere- but she holds all the cards. Only she can clear my name."
"There is another way", Alex pointed out. "Blackmail might sound like a nasty word, but you can trust in her cowardice. If you threaten her to drag whatever she had done to cause this entire mess into the light, she will voluntarily give you up. The main problem is figuring out what she had screwed up to use against her."
"So? It won't be easy for me to get those answers."
"No, but that's why I am there- I can do this, I have my ways and a few contacts more than willing to break into DARPA's servers and get what I need. Moya won't suspect me if there is no reason to suspect me."
"And what am I going to do?"
"You continue with what you are doing. Play along, act as if she's your boss- and try to get your hands on the Sphere and Kessler. You'll need both to prove your innocence to the world." He snorted. "At the same time, I can not act in the open- taking down Kessler has to be you; however, I can work from the dark. I can strike where you can't, and I can permanently remove the weapons out there from circulation."
The younger man snorted. "So I'm what? Diversion?"
"In a way, yes. I don't care about Kessler or Moya, or even the situation in Empire." Actually, he did care about the situation in Empire. After all, Dana was here, and too stubborn to leave- which meant he was going to stay too. "You remain the face of this, and I will make sure you get your hands on Kessler and Moya, along with clearing your name." He shifted his talons back into hands and shoved them into the pockets of his pants, watching the younger man.
"Sounds like I'm getting the short end of the deal", the courier snorted.
"If you mean that you'll get fame as well as having to take the fall, then yes. But I offer you the possibility to increase your chance of getting through all of this." He cut himself off, and pulled the phone from his Biomass. It was chiming.
"Cole, pick up", the voice of Moya Jones growled. "I swear, if you have put the phone away to talk with that fat roommate of yours I will nail your ass over my fireplace."
Alex snorted and glanced at the courier, who was making a 'gimme' motion, then clicked the reply button himself. "Calm down", he told her instead, imitating MacGrath's voice perfectly. The courier stared at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. "It's a bit hard to answer when I'm hanging off a wall with both hands."
"Don't get smart with me", the woman growled.
"What do you want?"
"The location of the final substation has been uploaded to your GPS. Head over there as soon as you can." She cut the connection. The Runner glanced at the phone before throwing it over to the courier. "That's your job", he told him, his voice back in a low rumble that wouldn't be recorded by a phone. "Once you've made up your mind, we'll speak again."
He turned and leapt off the roof, leaving the courier behind. He made his point, now all that was there to do was to wait.
---------------
An alliance.
With Alex Mercer. The Alex Mercer. The Terrorist of Manhattan.
Cole couldn't believe he was even entertaining the idea. Alone the notion of working with that guy made every alarm bell shriek in his head. Hell, this idea was painfully clear in his head, even though confusion and panic was trying to override them. His brain felt like a mess, especially since he couldn't sleep again, but he was still lucid enough to know that he really shouldn't agree to this. Mercer was dangerous, a loose cannon.
And even more so, what he just displayed had been three different kinds of wrong. At least.
The way he just casually snatched his phone from across the roof, the way his arms simply twisted and shivered as they turned into those lethal claws, the way he lied to Moya, using his voice, no less- it was as if that guy was trying to be as much of an asshole as somehow possible. Not only that, but he was also incredibly disturbing. Cole had watched him place his phone into his right pocket, then retrieved it from the left. It was his phone, no doubt, but he couldn't help but wonder how in the blazes he managed it to cut their conversation off from Moya by just placing it into his pockets.
Questions aside, however, what he said made sense. Empire was too much for a single guy, and the gangs would only become more dangerous. He had already trouble with a single Reaper conduit, and he just knew that the guys in the other districts would be even worse. Working with somebody who could easily swallow up whatever damage came his way would be the smart choice. He just wasn't sure whether he could trust him.
Not any more than Moya, at any rate.
Cole scowled. Moya. She neglected to tell him she was DARPA, she used him to get to the Ray Sphere. He would play along for now though. However, once he found it, he would blow it up. Make sure nobody gets to use it.
Kessler, Moya and Mercer thought they were in control. But they weren't. Cole scowled deep. He would not let them use him like a cheap tool, then throw him away. He would not allow this- if they attempted to harm him, he would harm them right back.
He was through playing nice.
Cole would make them regret screwing with him. He would defeat anybody who thought that they could take any control away from him. He would show them.
But for that, he needed juice. And more powers. He needed to find the substation.
The courier scoffed and swung himself off the roof to head to the area marked on his GPS: The Western shore near Fisherman's Wharf.
He started jogging down the street to reach the train tracks, then climbed upwards to grind along the rails. He heard a few shouts from the people below as he zipped past them, electricity arching up behind him. He did not care for them too much. He helped those in the clinics to reduce the amount of supplies needed and to show Trish he wasn't going to abuse his powers. Deep down, he was a good guy, but that good guy was currently burried under a mountain of irritation.
He ground his teeth together when he entered the powerless area, his vision blurring. His brain pounded against his skull again, though he felt it wasn't as bad as it had been before. Either it was because this area was smaller than the others, or maybe because the remaining districts had juice, or maybe he got more resistant towards the lack of electricity.
Whatever it was, it made the dull throbbing a bit more bearable, but it still worsened his mood. He wasted no time to hop off the train tracks and find the manhole. He easily wrenched it open and dropped in, nose scrunching up almost immediately at the smell of sewage.
He tapped his phone. "I'm down in the sewers, Moya."
"Good", the woman replied. "I also got some intel for you." Cole perked up his ears, listening. Even if she was telling half-truths and lies, it could be helpful to figure out the truth. "The leader of the Reapers is a woman named Sasha. No last name." Huh. Sasha didn't sound too threatening. Though, he guessed, not every bad guy had a speaking name like Victor von Doom.
Moya made a clicking sound with her tongue. "Here's something juicy", she explained. "Until a few months ago, Sasha was a high-ranking member of the First Sons. Spearheaded a lot of research."
Cole paused, taking in the new information. "You think she knows where John is?"
"There's no way of knowing", Moya claimed. "But even if she doesn't, you have to take her out. It's the only way we'll be able to get a handle on the plague. I'll let you know when I've locked down her location." She cut the connection.
Cole frowned as he started moving, carefully balancing across the pipes suspended from the ceilings and climbing along the large tanks on either side (what was it with this place and no way to walk there normally?!).
Moya was right- they had to take that woman down to stop the Reapers. She used to be a scientist...interesting. The tar was obviously nothing natural, and it induced hallucinations. So it was possible this Sasha cooked the stuff up. If they got to her, then maybe they could stop the spread of the tar.
However...DARPA was probably very interested in getting their grubby fingers on a weapon that could be introduced via the water supplies. And if Sasha was the only one able to produce the stuff...he couldn't risk them getting their hands on her.
He wouldn't let her go free, however. She was responsible for the Reapers and a lot of people getting sick and die- Hell, it was her damn fault they had this frickin' lockdown on the city. No. He had to kill her and destroy whatever he could find of her work. Was the only way to make sure.
His lips twitched down into a scowl. Killing the Reapers was one thing- they fought him and he fought back. He defended himself. It was more or less the heat of the moment- but now, thinking- no- planning to murder somebody in cold blood sat very wrong with him.
A massive crane came into view, sitting silently like a very big animal. Cole looked around. No other way around this one, however, he noticed the operating console on his left.
He zapped it to charge it up and the crane started moving with a metallic shriek. The courier leapt upwards and grabbed the beam, dragging himself on top of it. From there, he could see the faint glow of the transformer station. Cole hopped off the crane and latched onto one of the vertical pipes, swinging from one to another to reach the massive piece of machine.
He had to be stronger. And re-establishing the circuits, while being painful, did increase his powers. He jumped up and latched on the transformers, feeling every cell in his body fry with the energy slamming through him. He ground his teeth together to ruthlessly smother the pained groan that threatened to escape his throat, instead trying to focus on the sensation of the electricity racing through him.
It felt good. Painful, yes, but also very stimulating.
He let go, dropping back to the ground in a crouch. Energy was surging all around him, snapping out of his body and mingling with the wordless roar of the transformer. He grunted and got back to his feet, brushing off his hands. He looked around to find the way, then started moving again. He did managed to cross another crane, then hopped to the side and lunge from pipe to pipe to reach another maintenance hatch. As he made his way through the sewers, his radar sense suddenly blared in alarm and he quickly ducked behind cover.
He heard the snarls of Reapers, and carefully peeked up, narrowing his eyes. He could see them in the dark. Faintly. He did figure out they were hiding behind cover as well.
'Wish I could see them more clearly'. He narrowed his eyes some more, hoping to get a good shot at them. His eyeballs suddenly started to pound against his eye sockets, making him squeeze his fists into them to make them stop hurting. It took a moment to settle down, before he tried looking again. Nothing.
He blinked, then turned his attention back towards the Reapers that had, thankfully, not noticed him. He tried to focus again, and his eyeballs started to strain again.
Time seemed to slow down before him, and his focus literally zoomed onto the closest Reaper. Cole stared in surprise, then slowly lifted his hand to line up with the guy. The lightning bolt he shot was far from the wide-spread arch of electricity he usually shot- this one was thinner, went in a straight line- and was more concentrated.
The blow smashed right through the guy's shield and knocked him off his feet, startling his buddies. Cole blinked and his vision returned to normal, then tried it again with the other guys.
Once they all went down, the courier slowly got to his feet, blinking in bewilderment.
He just got a sniper attack.
Awesome.
He continued his way, utilizing the sniper shot and his radar senses to take out the Reapers that thought they could hide. His head threatened to split open from the continued usage, but if it wasn't just plain awesome!
He quickly figured out that, if he aimed at their heads, they went down at the first hit, saving him both time and energy needed to utilize the concentrated blast. Which was pretty useful, though he was aware in the heat of combat he shouldn't even bother with it.
Eventually, he made his way to the substation, cursing the architects of this sewer to have created such a death-trap that required near-inhuman parkour abilities to navigate. Who the Hell's supposed to work down here? Spider-Man?!
He charged the substation up and grinned when he heard the hum of electricity surging through it- only for his grin to slip off his face when he realized that he had to get back.
Moya was definitely going to get a thank-you-bomb. Maybe one of Zeke's exploding batteries.
----------------
Cole swore profoundly as he finally clambered up to the street level. The sewage still stung in his nostrils, his arms were burning from the constant hanging on the cranes, and his head hurt from the excessive use of his radar-and sniper abilities. He really just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. The sun was just setting, so maybe it was a good time to get home.
His phone rang, earning a poorly-contained swear. If that was Moya...
"Cole, you there?"
The courier inhaled sharply and swallowed whatever he was going to say. This was not Moya. This was Trish. And she was calling him out of her own. His mouth dropped open.
"Trish?"
"A plane just dropped a crate of medical supplies", she told him with an urgent tone in her voice. "Someone needs to protect it from the Reapers."
"And you-" He swallowed. "You want me to do it?" His heart skipped a beat or two, and his mood instantly skyrocketed.
Trish made that little snort/chuckle combination that he so loved. "You are the only one with super powers", she reminded him. "We'll meet over there."
She ended the call and Cole started hurrying down the street. He had no idea where exactly that drop was supposed to be, but it had to be around here somewhere. Planes usually didn't head any deeper into the city to drop their cargo anymore.
He saw the parachute hang from an industrial crane at Fisherman's Wharf, blowing in the breeze from the bay. He also saw the edge of a red hoodie, and lunged towards it, tackling two Reapers that had already approached the cargo crate. He dispatched them and glanced around, taking in the situation.
He frowned when he realized it was not the best position: The crate stood in an open storage area for ocean freight containers, with three sides approachable. Meaning, Reapers could come from nearly every direction. Snarls echoed across the empty lot. Cole's frown deepened as he planted both feet in front of the crate and tensed his muscles. He was not going to let these guys any closer to grab the crate.
Heh. As the old man said: You shall not pass!
The first Reapers that came around the freight containers were met with a face full of lightning bolts before they could even react. But even the following guys didn't last too long. Cole lowered his hand, eyebrow arched.
His powers had vastly increased, up to the point that simple lightning bolts barely tapped into his energy resources. If at all. Sweet.
A large group came rushing towards him, hiding behind the chain-link fences to avoid his lightning bolts. Whatever. Cole hauled his arm back and created his grenades, then chucked them over the fence and into the guys' direction, frying them. More Reapers swarmed towards him, so he whirled around and took them out instantly. His senses cried out in alarm, giving him just enough time to flop flat to the ground to avoid a barrage of high-speed bullets digging up the asphalt. His eyes narrowed on the guy standing on top of a building, swinging a massive gun towards him.
Cole froze dumbfounded. Was that a Minigun?!
More Reapers snarled from the dark alleys on either side. Cole scowled and focused on the Minigun-wielding guy, downing him with a precision shot. He jumped back to his feet once the threat was gone, then whipped around to face the closest group. His eyes narrowed and lightning snapped out of his arms. "Yeah", he growled. "Bring it on!"
Two groups of Reapers were upon him in that moment. Cole flung his arms out to smack them aside, but that only took out a part of them.
Plus his phone rang.
"Hey man, you got a sec?", Zeke's voice asked. Cole didn't reply, but rather focused on the next three guys to fry them. "Been kickin' an idea around and I want to talk to you about it", his friend continued, obviously oblivious to the startled and pained snarls and the cracks of rifles and thunder strikes.
"Kinda got my hands full at the moment!" Cole snapped, grabbing two Reapers and slamming them into a freight container to knock them out. "Reapers are all over me!" He shouted, ducking under a rifle-butt that came into his direction, before he grabbed the guy and fried him.
"Those idiots aren't going anywhere", Zeke claimed. Huh. Really? Because right now it looked like they were all going into Cole's direction. With all kinds of weapons. He even spied a few of those suicide bombers, and quickly blasted them to make them blow up before they would get any closer. He did catch a few bullets into the chest for his troubles, and instantly unleashed more lightning to zap the guys closest to him. "Besides, this is important"
"Zeke!" Cole shouted, grabbing a guy to use as shield against the others.
"Listen man- you know how you use that blast move to throw a guy into the air, and then shoot him while he's floatin' around? We need to name those moves, man!"
Cole gaped. Really? He was going about to name his moves? This wasn't one of his Japanese cartoons, damnit. He didn't need to name his attacks. It wasn't like he was going to shout them at his foes.
"Now's not really the time!" He snapped, dropping his meat shield to throw a series of grenades at the approaching foes.
"I think we should call it the Crippler", Zeke continued in all seriousness, as if he didn't realize his best friend was just fighting for his life here. "You know, 'cause no-one's comin' back from that one. We can plaster it all over some T-shirts, make some serious cashola. Think about it. You're the muscles, I'm the brains."
"Zeke- I'm a little busy at the moment!" Cole all but yelled as his friend ended the call, jumping over the shockwave of a Reaper conduit. He grabbed the man and send several thousand volts through his skull to drop him.
It took a while until he stopped, panting and looking around. He literally stood knee-deep in dead or unconscious Reapers. His head was still hurting, and he just knew that there were more coming, but his body was aching all over, his clothes had more bullet holes than they could really need and his flesh was torn. He grunted and headed over to a fuse box at the wall, draining it to heal right up. But the sheer amount of damage he accumulated made him waste more time than he really wanted, and another group of Reapers came rushing around the corner.
He groaned in defeat. Where the heck did these guys come from anyways? Well, at any rate now I know where they've been the whole day. Waiting to screw me up here.
The group of Reapers snarled and came rushing at him, though there was still enough space between them to excuse waiting and draining more energy to heal.
The Reapers didn't get any further, though. Something...black seized all six of them, wrapped around their bodies securely, before they were yanked back and out of sight. Cole froze as their startled snarls were cut off with a series of pained shrieks and the tearing of flesh. Then there was silence.
Seconds before Mercer stepped into view, rolling his shoulders. He was back in hoodie and jacket, as he strolled casually towards him. The set of tentacles growing from his shoulders instead of arms were new, and they were writhing in excitement, snaking through the air before settling back into three-fingered hands.
The snarl of more Reapers coming from the opposite side of the alley drew both their attentions, and Cole swore at the sight of more guys approaching. Mercer was faster than him, leaping off the floor to cross the distance in a heartbeat, then slamming into the group. Three Reapers were turned to fine mist, while the others shook from the force of the impact.
His arms unraveled in that moment, spreading into every direction like a demented spider web that captured the junkies more than easily. Mercer's shoulders twitched- and the men were just torn to pieces in a shower of blood and gore. Cole bit back a curse at the sight, as Mercer whirled around and slammed the tentacles down, tearing groves into the ground to stop another group of Reapers.
At the next moment, another bunch rushed at them from the other side, Cole whipped into their direction and fired several lightning bolts to down them, listening to the sound of something shift. When he turned back around, the bodies and the blood were gone, while tentacles crawled across the other guy's form, concentrating in his arms to twist them back into normal human limbs.
"I had everything under control", Cole hissed, "No need to splatter them."
"I wanted to have a bit of fun too", the other replied in a tone others talked about the weather. "If you kill them fast and without mercy, then the others hopefully will get the message and stop this entire bullshit."
Cole scoffed in reply, kicking a semi-conscious Reaper to knock him out. "That's it?"
"Not really", Mercer said, nodding his head over his shoulder. A turret truck pulled in from the street, heading towards them.
The courier groaned. "Not one of them."
Mercer inclined his head. "Leave that truck to me", he ordered shortly. Cole couldn't even answer when the guy just lunged at the truck, hard enough to completely cave in the front and kill the engine. He smashed his fist through the window, grabbed the driver and just yanked him out through the reinforced glass to throw him like a ragdoll across the lot and shatter his remains against one of the buildings. The gunner he crushed simply when he vaulted over the driver's cabin, then just tore the mounted turret off and dropped it to the street like trash.
A second and third truck were just easing into the courtyard, but the terrorist was moving already. Lunging across the distance easily, he tackled the second one off course hard enough to force it into the third one. There was a hollow screech of metal when both collided and stopped stuttering.
Cole watched in surprise how Mercer then simply let them to catapult himself off the floor and rocketeted straight upwards, far higher than even the buildings around were- before he came back down, slamming bodily into the truck bed of the third truck like a missile and completely eradicating both trucks with the sheer force alone. The entire wharf shook from the impact, and shards of glass, tires and bits of metal were flung away from the fresh crater. Moments later, the guy simply got up and proceeded with dusting himself off like it was nothing. Bastard wasn't even winded.
Cole opened and closed his mouth a few times, working his tongue until he managed to speak. "Frickin' show-off", he grumbled under his breath. Mercer smirked.
"Cole!" The courier turned around, watching how Trish, another doctor and two of the militia approached the scene. Trish paused, glancing at the wrecked trucks and the Reapers around him in awe. She waved her hands through the air before she found her words. "Wow, Cole. That was...savage" Cole's head snapped around to where the other had been. No surprise there, he was gone.
Which left him alone. He sighed in defeat. "Yeah. Uh, had to act up a bit to make those idiots back off." There was a short pause in which the men tore their gazes away from the destruction, when Cole continued. "Uh- don't worry. It were just Reapers and it was to defend my life. I'm not going to play God or anything." He turned his attention to the three men currently fussing over the crate. "You need any help moving that stuff?"
Trish shook her head and there was a small smile on her face. At that moment, Cole decided that this was the look he liked best about her. "We got it", she exclaimed. "Thanks for your help."
His eyes sparkled slightly. "This means we're talking again?"
Trish chuckled. "It does."
Thank you, God.
Cole lunged over and hugged Trish, completely ignoring her protesting squeak, and proceeded with simply pressing his lips against her cheek. At that moment, he really didn't care about anybody else. Trish was back with him and that was all he needed.
Of course, Moya then shattered the moment.
"Break it up", her cold voice ordered, making both of them flinch back startled. "You have no time for rest, Cole."
Cole exhaled with a snarl and let go of Trish, mashing his reply button. "Moya. What the Hell do you want now?!"
"Well, if there isn't somebody angry", The DARPA agent exclaimed smoothly. "Get your ass up. I pinned Sasha's location."
Cole frowned unhappily. Sasha was the Reaper's leader- and it would be best to take her out sooner than later. And Moya knew that. So he exhaled slowly, trying to get his urge to throttle her under control. "Where?"
He could almost hear her smirk. "She's operating out of Jefferson Tunnel. Head to the location marked on your GPS and I'll fill you in when you get there." She cut the connection. Cole frowned at his phone.
"Bitch."
Trish arched her brow. "Boss?"
"Yeah", he sighed. "She made me crawl through the sewers to fix the electricity in Empire, she threw me face-first into a group of Reapers, and she keeps bossing me around." He glanced at his girlfriend. "But what can I do? She told me to do this for her, and in return she'll clear my name through all official channels."
"Who's Sasha?"
"The leader of the Reapers", Cole shook his head. "Listen- I have to stop her, make sure she doesn't hurt any more people."
Trish nodded. "Well, go get her, tiger."
Cole paused. "What about you?"
She smiled. "I'm beat. We'll just bring those supplies to the clinics, then I'll turn in for the night."
"See you tomorrow then?"
"Most likely. If your boss lady allows you to actually have some fun."