Directive
"Ah, Ms Rocca…sorry to keep you waiting."
"No. You're not."
Neither of the two men answered, so Madison "Maddie" Rocca took that as an indication that they were taken aback by her lack of fear, or hadn't expected fear in the first place. It was a moot point to her personally, because despite what either of her abductors thought, she wasn't afraid. After fighting everything out of dark fantasy (not "grimdark" though – there was a difference according to Chip), two men in suits were nothing. Even as they sat down opposite her at the table after tapping the light bulb above, causing it to swing back and forth.
"So, you're wondering-"
"Why this room only has one light in it? Yeah."
"-why we brought you here?"
Maddie snorted. "I don't think putting a bag over my head is really the same as 'bringing' me here."
"Well, when dealing with a power ranger, you can't be too careful."
Maddie felt like ice. And not in the Udonna "White Mystic Ranger" sense.
"Mister White," said one of the two men, the one with dark skin. "And this," he said, gesturing to his Caucasian colleague, "is Mister Black."
"How racially sensitive of you."
"Oh, I used to be Mister White," said Mister Black. "But ever since our organization appointed an Asian girl as Mrs Yellow, people were calling us out for typecasting."
"And for not calling her 'Miss.' Seriously, women these days."
"Yeah, I'm one of them," Maddie said, leaning forward over the table and remembering that these rainbow rejects had correctly identified her as a power ranger. "So, why don't we get to the point where you…well…"
"Do what?" Mister White asked.
"Well, threaten me," Maddie said. She leant back in her chair. "Sorry, but I'm used to dealing with monsters, not humans."
It was a confession she thought she could make. If these people had proof that she was a ranger, then a confession would mean nothing. And if they didn't have proof, then the confession would still mean nothing if she claimed it was in jest. So she waited for them to make their move. And taking something out of his pocket, Mister Black did so. Something that he put on the table. Something that she recognised as-
"My camera."
"Yes, your camera that you left in the Rock Porium," Mister White said. "And with quite a bit of film left on it."
He hit the play button. An image of her and her friends appeared, all of them clearing up the store. All of them talking. About monsters. About zords. About being rangers.
"We understand that you Briarwood folk are a bit tight lipped about the whole monster and ranger thing," Mister Black said. "Still, I think this would convince anyone, wouldn't you say? Especially when the proof is already out there? Especially when-"
"Why me?"
Both men glanced at her. Madison leant forward. She'd long lost her powers. But she didn't feel like she was powerless.
"You have proof on all of us," she said slowly. "But you've only taken me."
"Yes, but-"
"And other identities have been revealed before," Maddie continued. "The Space Rangers revealed themselves to the world in that alien invasion. The Lightspeed Rangers never made their identities secret. And scuttlebutt is that NASADA knows the identity of every red ranger after some moon trip." She leant back in her chair – "scuttlebutt" was the key word. And she also felt slightly miffed – blue and proud of it. How come the reds were always the leaders of ranger teams?
Not that she minded with Nick, but-
"Anyway," Mister Black said. "I can see you're not entirely ignorant of every other spandex-clad team of superheroes that's come before you."
"Or the one that's operating now," Maddie added. "Looks like the Turbo Rangers, only-"
"But since you haven't revealed your identity to the world, we'll assume that you don't want it revealed. So, play along with us, and we won't do it for you."
Maddie closed her arms and leant back in her chair. The light had stopped swinging. So when Mister White put a number of photos on the table, she had no trouble seeing them.
"Power rangers," she murmured. "Mighty Morphin era by the look of it."
More photos appeared. Of a township that she recognised as Angel Grove, if only for its abandoned warehouse district that always seemed to be destroyed by Rita and Lord Zed, and always being rebuilt. And more photos, of a town she didn't recognise, but was labelled as "Wellington, New Zealand."
"Huh."
"Huh what?" Mister Black asked.
"New Zealand. Xander's from there. Well, actually from Australia, but he always said there wasn't a difference anyway."
"Yeah, well, play along with us, and you'll see it," Mister White said.
"Um, yeah," Maddie said, returning her gaze to the Mighty Morphin photo. "You still haven't told me what you want me to do."
"To direct. Produce."
Maddie stared at him. She then stared at another set of photos, each one of an actor. Each colour coded to one of the Mighty Morphin Rangers. Rangers she realized weren't the real deal, but were pretending to be.
"Let's face it," Mister Black said. "The Power Rangers are hot property. Japan's already beaten us to the punch in their TV adaptations, so we've got to keep up."
"By adapting the first team, and arguably, most famous one," Maddie murmured. "And shooting it in New Zealand."
"Yeah, well, everything's cheaper in New Zealand," Mister White said. "And with you…"
"Huh?"
"You are…were…a ranger," Mister Black said. He leant over the table. "You know how they fight. You know how they talk."
"Well, we didn't say 'hy-yah' in every other sentence but-"
"And you're already somewhat decent with a camera," he continued. He leant back in his chair, smiling like a shark. Or a monster. Not that their lips ever seemed to move much, Maddie recalled.
"So here's the deal. You work for us. You help us film our show. You get your big break. Or, you don't, and we reveal your identity, and the identities of every mystic ranger. Your choice."
Maddie stared at him. The men stared back at her. Confident this was a torturous decision. Confident that her powers had indeed gone, and she wouldn't just stomp their arses. Confident that-
"Awesome!" Maddie exclaimed. "I'd love to be a director! When do we begin?"
Confidence, it seemed, that had nothing to do with common sense and just asking.