Worm: Tactical Espionage Action (AU)
Chapter 1: The World of Today
Despite her training and typical unfailingly perfect posture Taylor Hebert was beginning to sag in the chair she had been sitting in for the last four hours. She would have gotten up and worked out the kinks that had formed in her back if she wasn't handcuffed to the metal bar bolted-on the table in front of her. Taylor tried not to fidget or show any other signs of weakness though. She knew people had to be watching through the one-way mirror and the cameras that were almost certainly hidden throughout the room.
The thirty-one year old reached out with her powers yet again. Once again she found she couldn't feel a single bug in the building. Either they had found a way to kill all in insects for several city blocks or this room somehow dampened or contained her power. The faint humming she thought she could feel along the walls and ceiling lend credence to this theory. Taylor didn't like it. Since she had triggered in that God-forsaken hellhole of a jungle all those years ago her bugs had become an extension of her reality, another sense she had come to rely on. Suddenly being without them made her feel strangely off balance and vulnerable though she would never let any of that show on her face.
She ached to scratch an itch under the black leather eyepatch that covered her ruined right eye, a gift from a cape whose injuries were almost impossible to heal by any known means. It wasn't that Taylor didn't understand why she was in handcuffs because she most assuredly did. It was the transparent scare tactics and power plays that were pissing her off. Being cut off from her bugs annoyed her, the chair was uncomfortable and she had to pee. There had to be some kind of logic to keeping her isolated and waiting. For the life of her she couldn't think of what they were playing at though. She didn't have any good defense for what she had done. As far as the PRT were concerned this was an open and shut case. Why the hell were they dragging this out?
With nothing better to do Taylor began to focus on her breath as an exercise to sharpen her focus while periodically checking on her bugs just in case the situation had changed.
Eventually the heavy metal door leading out of the interrogation room was thrown open without preamble. In walked a stern faced woman carrying a briefcase who could have been anywhere in her thirties or early forties. She wore a business suit that looked expensive and it wouldn't have surprised Taylor to learn it had been especially tailored. To Taylor's amusement the woman also had an eyepatch over her right eye. This woman seemed to positively radiate authority and a no-nonsense attitude. She was someone Taylor recognized instantly though she had never met the woman in person before.
"Director Costa-Brown," Taylor said evenly hiding her surprise, "I hope you didn't fly all the way out here just for me."
The Director said nothing, instead choosing to take the seat across from her. Taylor watched in silence as Director Costa-Brown opened her briefcase and made a show of looking one of the files.
"Six murders Miss Hebert," said the Director before looking at Taylor with her one hard unyielding eye, "perhaps you can explain that to me."
Why is the Director here talking to me? Taylor scowled at the question. "I'm sure you've read a report on it by now or someone's briefed you. You already know all the relevant facts."
"Humor me," said the Director in a voice that left no room for doubt that it was an order.
Taylor sat up straight and took a moment to compose her thoughts. "The villain cape known as Acetone and five members of his gang had just shot my partner to death in front of me. I lost my temper."
"And killed all of them."
"Yes," said Taylor without an ounce of remorse, "I did."
There was a beat of silence. "None of them had kill orders on them. It was within your abilities to take them down non-lethally," Director Costa-Brown stated.
Taylor nodded. "It was."
"Then why didn't you?"
Taylor bit the inside of cheek. "Because when the enemy is willing to use lethal force on you and your people the only appropriate response is to respond in kind. If they didn't want to die they shouldn't have started a war."
Costa-Brown gave Taylor a long hard look that the bug user couldn't read. "You're no longer in the Army Ms Hebert. This isn't Zanzibar. You are no longer a Green Beret. You are a member of the Protectorate and have been for the last two years. You know you are not authorized to use lethal force unless your life or the life of others are in imminent danger and there is no other choice. You crossed the line Ms Hebert."
Taylor wanted to keep her cool but she could feel anger rising at the callousness of the Director's words and tone. "So you're saying since Robin was already dead and I wasn't in any immediate danger they get to just walk away?"
"No. They get a trial just like any other criminal. Or they would have if you hadn't decided to take justice into your own hands," said the Director dispassionately.
Costa-Brown stared Taylor down but Taylor refused to be cowed and stared right back. She wasn't ashamed of what she'd done and wasn't sorry in the least. Robin had been a good friend and a good man. The ones who killed him deserved what she did to them. If Director Costa-Brown had come all this way to fill her with remorse then she was going to be sorely disappointed. Maybe she was just digging her own grave even deeper but she couldn't bring herself to pretend she thought she had been in the wrong.
If that meant the Birdcage then so be it. She had never adjusted back to civilian life very well anyway.
Eventually the Director must have been satisfied, or at least confident, in what she saw in Taylor's hard gaze. She reached into her briefcase and produced another file, opening it on the table and leafing through it.
"What do you know about the Parahuman bill currently being proposed in the Senate?" asked the Director.
Taylor blinked, thrown off by the radical shift in topics. The former Green Beret answered cautiously. This was something she had been paying close attention to. What is her game here? "Senator Armstrong is proposing the so-called Parahuman Military Service Act. He wants to change things so Parahumans would be able to enlist in the armed forces and serve openly. It's still in the early stages but according to the papers the bill is supposed to have a lot of bi-partisan support even though it's still considered controversial."
"That is essentially correct," said Costa-Brown, not bothering to look up from the file she was looking through, "how do you feel about the proposal?"
This was something she had thought long and hard about. There were a lot of pros and cons either way. "I'm undecided Director."
"Oh?" said Costa-Brown. Taylor didn't know if the woman was genuinely surprised or was being slightly mocking. "I thought for sure you would support Parahumans in the military given your unique and colorful experience. In fact your effectiveness in the field while in the military – and that of the few other Parahumans in a situation similar to yours – is one of Senator Armstrong's strongest arguments in favor of this bill."
Taylor had definitely not known that. Very few things rattled her but the thought of her name getting thrown around on the floor of the United States Senate made her feel profoundly uncomfortable.
In most First World militaries including the United States Parahumans were not allowed to join the military. All dealings with Parahumans were by law the purview of the PRT (Parahuman Response Team) in the United States of America. At the time that system had been set down there had been many concerns about allowing Parahumans in the armed forces, not the least of which was the danger of setting off a world-wide "arms race" as countries around the world rushed to militarize and weaponize their capes.
There was one loophole in the system though. If a Parahuman triggered while already in the armed forces they would generally be allowed to complete their tour of duty before being sent back into the civilian world and into the arms of the PRT. Taylor's case though – Taylor had been different.
General David Oh became aware of her almost as soon as she triggered and had Taylor transferred over to his command in the US Army Special Operations Command in Fort Bragg. Then he pretended he didn't know she existed. For eight years it was very hush-hush. There was a 'suspected' Parahuman somewhere in the ranks when enemy positions where inexplicably attacked by swarms of insects. Taylor became the first woman to graduate from Green Beret training school and it was something of an open secret that she was 'special'. Eventually after serving eight years in the special forces the PRT got wind of it somehow and started making a stink. Taylor was honorably discharged soon afterwards and went to work as a member of the Protectorate.
Even though she had worked for them for two years Taylor had never quite forgiven the PRT for ruining her career in Special Operations Command and taking her away from her men.
Still, the Parahuman Military Service Act made her uncomfortable because she knew how easy it was for the higher ups to start seeing Parahumans as weapons, simple assets to be deployed like a tank or a missile system. Even though she greatly admired and respected General Oh there were times where his attitude towards her made her uneasy. That had been the case even though the General had taken her under his wing and knew her personally. How much worse could it have been if the one giving her orders and setting her missions had been someone she didn't know? Taylor was glad she'd never had to find out. Still she had done a lot of good with her powers and she knew she had kept a lot of good men safe – especially when the other side wasn't so noble about keeping capes out of the military. In a way Taylor was glad she wouldn't be the one making those decisions.
"Like I said Director, I'm undecided," said Taylor as she bit back the urge to ask why she was even being asked about this. Even though it was a small thing asking first would give the woman a conversational advantage.
They were both silent for a few long minutes and Taylor got the impression Costa-Brown was trying to make her sweat. It didn't work, though it was annoying to just sit there in silence while the Director read (or pretended to read) through a file. Taylor wouldn't be the first to crack and ask a question in their little battle of wills. Normally she didn't care for that kind of grandstanding but since she was likely to be charged for murder soon she figured she'd make an exception.
After almost exactly ten minutes on the dot Director Costa-Brown put the file away, interlaced her fingers on the desk and looked at Taylor seriously.
"What I'm about to discuss with you cannot leave this room. If it does the PRT will come at you with everything it has. At that point ending up in the Birdcage would be the best that you could hope for. Is that clear?" asked Costa-Brown.
Taylor looked at the Director coolly with her one eye at the implied threat. Still Taylor was no stranger at being privy to classified information. Slowly she nodded. "Yes ma'am. Crystal."
The Director scrutinized for a long moment before starting. "The PRT and the Protectorate have always been criticized for not doing a good enough job in controlling and dissuading Parahuman crime. In recent years the situation has been getting worse. Our effectiveness is not what it once was and it will take years yet for us to fully recover."
"Does this have anything to do with that 'training exercise' where half the senior Protectorate capes were in Siberia when Scion spontaneously decided to explode three years ago?" Taylor asked bluntly.
It was the greatest fodder for conspiracy theorists in the last century. You didn't have to be a genius to know the whole thing stunk and was beyond suspicious. At seemingly the last minute nearly a hundred of the Protectorate's most experienced capes were teleported to the middle of Siberia for a 'training exercise'. Next thing you know Scion, who just happened to be in the same area, explodes taking out Mongolia, half of China and a good chunk of Kazakhstan. Suddenly the Golden Man is dead and only a handful of the Protectorate capes survive the explosion and make it back alive. Eidolon has been in a coma for the last three years that nobody seems able to wake him up from.
It wasn't hard to imagine the "Scion Incident" seriously damaged the effectiveness of the PRT in the United States. Few organizations can weather the loss of so many senior personnel. It didn't help that there was rampant speculation and wild accusations that the Protectorate had somehow conspired to assassinate Scion.
Ridiculous of course. But whatever had truly happened probably wouldn't see the light of day for a long time, if ever.
The Director did not look at all amused by her question. "Yes the tragic loss of senior personnel in that unfortunate incident is what has allowed the criminal situation to deteriorate across the board. What you need to understand is ultimately reasons matter little in the eye of the public, only results do. Our political enemies – those who oppose how Parahumans are managed in this country – are seeking to use the situation to push through their political agenda. The Parahuman Military Service Act will fail but I believe this is only the first of such bills that will be proposed in the near future. The PRT cannot allow such laws to come to pass."
How was she so sure the bill was going to fail?
Taylor could follow the logic and hidden subtext of everything else the Director was saying though. If all of a sudden the US Armed Forces became a viable option for Parahumans it would severely undercut the monopoly the PRT has on handling capes and cape relations. All of a sudden other branches of the government can tell capes what to do and go over the head of the PRT. Once you begin there, how far will it go? Will the CIA want Parahumans next? The FBI? The ATF? How long until the PRT becomes less and less relevant? Taylor could see how such a precedent could scare them.
At the same time… "It really isn't the place of a government or quasi-government agency to decide what laws do or don't pass Director," she said to Costa-Brown.
The Director's one visible eye was like steel. "It is in the best interests of everyone involved and the world at large if Parahumans remain the sole purview of the PRT. The PRT leadership is prepared to go to considerable lengths to make sure this remains the case."
Ah. There it was. This is why the Director felt the need to threaten Taylor before they began this little conversation. If the wrong journalist, oversight committee or politician heard those words it would likely kick up a political shit storm of epic proportions. Heads would roll if it could be proven. She wasn't positive but Taylor was pretty sure there were laws against this type of thing. At the very least a lot of people would lose their jobs.
Still that didn't answer the sixty-four thousand dollar question. "What does this have to do with me? As far as I know I'm hours away from being charged on multiple counts of murder."
"Tell me Miss Hebert. What do you know about how kill orders are issued?" asked Costa-Brown.
Taylor was starting to get tired of these seemingly random directions the Director was taking their conversation. There was also something ominous about all this, something that was setting off all the alarm bells in her head. In fact everything about this situation stank, starting with the Director flying two and a half hours by air to come see her. Still there was nothing for her to do but play along.
"From what I understand the big wigs at the PRT go to a Federal Judge to make a case that X or Y individual merits a kill order. The Judge approves it and then the Protectorate gets the green light," said Taylor. It wasn't something they'd gone into depth during her training in how to be a good little Protectorate cape and she frankly hadn't bothered to look it up further.
"It's not nearly as simple as that," said Costa-Brown with a note in her voice that made Taylor think of long frustration. "In essence what happens is that the cape in question gets a trial in absentia in those situations. It works just like a regular trial except the defendant isn't present. One of our attorneys must present evidence, bring forward witness testimony, establish a timeline, establish method, motive and opportunity, all of it. The defendant also gets his own attorney provided by the government and it is his job to tear apart all our evidence and make sure we cannot cross that 'beyond reasonable doubt' threshold in the eyes of the Judge. The overwhelming majority of the time what ends up happening is that the Judge denies our request for a kill order. Everyone is placed under very strict scrutiny in those situations and most often than not the Judges will air on the side of caution to avoid the possibility of criticism or future disciplinary action if something untoward is found at a later date. The end result is that many well-known monsters and murderers go without a kill order when they rightly deserve it. The Teeth, The Red Sun, Dead Cell, Outer Heaven. All savage killers, all groups where we tried to get kill orders and failed for some or all of their members."
"It could just be that the Judges are leery of depriving American citizens of their God-given right to life," said Taylor flippantly.
Costa-Brown gave Taylor a flat unamused look. "The two newest members of the Slaughterhouse Nine do not technically have kill orders yet because we haven't 'collected enough evidence' of their crimes. Your file tells me you're not the type of idealistic fool who would be ok with that."
Taylor's eyes widened slightly in surprise. She had not known that little factoid. "Wait, we are not authorized to kill some of the nine?" she asked incredulously.
"Technically no. Realistically nobody would let a hero go down for taking out a person who chooses to associate with that group. Still the fact that we have a hard time getting kill orders even for members of the nine should be a testament to how profoundly flawed the kill order system has become. It is a broken system that frankly no longer lets us do our jobs. If it ever did."
Taylor forgot how to breathe for a moment. So that's it. She had a pretty good idea where this was going now. You opportunistic bitch.
"So what do you want me for?" said Taylor, this time more sharply and forcefully than before. The eight year veteran of the Army Special Forces was now rearing her head.
"We want you to put together a team," said Costa-Brown, "to do the things that we legally aren't allowed to do. This needs to be a group of capes that have no ties to the Protectorate or the PRT."
Truthfully Taylor didn't know whether to sneer or feel excited. "You're putting together a black ops team," Taylor stated.
"Yes," answered Director Costa-Brown plainly without a hint of hesitation or remorse.
Black ops or black operations were called that because they were almost uniformly illegal or amoral. They were things the parent organization wanted done but didn't want linked to them in any way. One of the most important things in black ops was 'plausible deniability'. If a team like that screwed up and got caught they were often up shit creek without a paddle… which in this case usually meant any combination of imprisonment, torture and death.
But what Costa-Brown was asking was actually far worse than black ops conducted by the military. At least the military will make every effort to recover captured or wounded soldiers in a typical black ops team. Taylor had the feeling that the same courtesy would not extend to what the Director was asking her to do. If she and her hypothetical team got caught trying to kill someone or doing something else illegal they were on their own. If they were caught by the nine or any other group of crazies they would be on their own. If they exposed themselves the Protectorate would even have to go after them the same way they would any other criminal. Christ.
"You have to think about this Director," said Taylor in a voice asking her to see reason, "a secret black opts team doing… what, hits on dangerous capes you can't get a kill order for? Those kinds of things have a way of getting out. You and everyone else at the PRT leadership could hang for this."
"Believe me Ms Hebert we have taken all possible risks and benefits into account," Costa-Brown said crisply, "This is how it will work: you get to choose a target from a number of different ones we give you. These targets will be selected for maximum impact. When high-profile, previously untouchable villains start dying or disappearing one by one people will take notice. More specifically the criminal underworld will take notice."
"And given how our conversation started you think that this will reduce crime? And thus raise your popularity and political clout in Washington?" Taylor asked skeptically.
"This would be just one facet of a multi-pronged attack on the problem but yes, you are essentially correct. Our models predict that if you are successful it will have a greater impact on nationwide crime than you might imagine. Also the criminals will suspect the PRT and to a lesser extent the Protectorate were responsible thus further cementing our reputation in the criminal underworld."
"How do you figure the criminals will attribute something like that to you?" asked Taylor, a little fascinated despite herself.
Director Costa-Brown gave her a cool humorless smile. "Because we will spread those rumors of course. If your team is successful the gossip everywhere will be that the PRT is responsible. Politicians will wonder but without solid evidence they can't go on a witch hunt without losing political capital. Criminals on the other hand have a much lower threshold for accepting something as 'truth'. When they start realizing that the worst of their number suddenly start dying or going missing inexplicably they will quickly reach the conclusion that violent crime and civilian fatalities come with even greater danger than they previously believed. Fear of the unknown will help keep the criminal element in check across the country until the Protectorate is once again as strong as it needs to be."
Taylor could see it. As sketchy as this whole mess was Taylor couldn't deny that someone out there taking out the worst of the worst would be good for everyone in the grander scheme of things. In the Army and later the Green Berets Taylor learned about sometimes having to do bad things for good reasons. Still...
"Yes," said Taylor a little dubiously, "it's very convenient for you then that the perfect candidate to head up your little initiative, me, just happened to serve herself up on a platter for you."
"Yes. Aren't we lucky," said Costa-Brown dryly. To Taylor's annoyance her face was completely unreadable.
Taylor sighed. "Even though it's pretty self-evident I have to ask: what happens if I say no?"
"If you say no you will be prosecuted for the six unsanctioned deaths you caused today. Depending on the judge and the jury you may or may not end up in the Birdcage. In either case you'd never see the light of day again," the Director said dispassionately.
Yep. That was about what she expected. "And what happens if I say yes?"
"We will arrange – at considerable trouble and expense – for this whole incident to quietly go away. You will then immediately begin your assignment: to recruit and train a team to carry out the operations we give you. Expect the situation to be fluid and your living arrangements to be mobile for the foreseeable future. A liaison will be assigned to you. He will be your point of contact between you and us and will make sure that things run smoothly. Depending on your performance he may authorize additional requisitions of personnel or equipment. Any other details can be worked out later."
Taylor frowned at that. "Will this 'liaison' be looking over my shoulder questioning my every move? Because I can't work like that."
"No. You and your team will be on your own. I expect most of your contact with him will be over secure communications. Again we can work out the details later," said Costa-Brown with just a small hint of impatience. Probably a pressure tactic.
Taylor would have rubbed her face if her hands weren't handcuffed to the metal table. Run illegal black ops with little safety net taking out some of the worst scum out there or go to prison for the rest of her life? It wasn't really a hard choice… even if she had that twisting feeling in her gut that told her she was getting into something she would later come to regret.
"All right Director. I can't say I don't sometimes miss the days when I could just shoot the bad guys instead of taking them down as gently as possible," said Taylor in dark humor, "I'm in."
The Director gave her a tight smile. "Good. Read this file," she said, reaching into her briefcase and putting a thick folder in front of her. "It should be enough to get you started. Resources. Staging grounds. Potential recruits. The works. You'll be released by the end of the week. Someone should be by to take you back to your cell soon."
"Right," said Taylor. Even though it seemed like the Director had bailed her out of a tight spot with this offer she didn't quite feel like the woman deserved a 'thank you'.
Director Costa-Brown packed up her briefcase and stood to leave. She had her hand on the door handle before she turned and spoke. "By the way Ms Hebert just so you know… that evidence of those six murders you're responsible for? It could resurface at any time should you decide to cross us. Remember that." Then she turned and calmly walked out the door.
Bitch, though Taylor, and a hard-ass. Then again people used to say the same thing about me. Maybe it's the eyepatch?
Shaking her head Taylor decided to hold off on thinking and looked at the file in front of her. It was stamped as Classified and Top Secret.
Taylor opened the file and read the header. It was the designation of her new team.
High-Tech Special Parahuman Unit FOXHOUND