Chapter Two

Best 'Laid' Plans

I awoke three days later after a large chunk of shrapnel was lodged into my skull. Thankfully it didn't hit my brain, and there would be a pretty kick ass scar there for the rest of my life, so that's a plus…I guess.

Crimson and X-Factor had managed to take down Trigger and his goons; Ghost and Arrow managed to get the president out of there just in time. As for This new villain, the Dominatrix, she and Psycho got away.

My scalp really itched as I walked slowly out of the medical ward of base, a few of my students and allies applauding me as I walked by. I simply nodded and made my way to my office, closing the door behind me. I may be injured and out of commission for at least the next day, but there was still things I had to take care of.

I walked over to my desk and opened a drawer that contained a few files. Sifting through, I pulled out the one entitled 'VILLAINS.' After writing a few things down and drawing a rough sketch of The Dominatrix, I put that information into the file and put it back in the drawer.

I leaned back in my chair after that, pondering. Who the hell was this new threat? What are some of the ramifications of what went down? Will the United States Government retaliate?

As if to answer my questions, Crimson walked in holding two cups of hot chocolate, a newspaper resting in her left hand. She was fully dressed in her hero garb, save for the mask. We've gotten comfortable enough with each other that we didn't need them on all the time.

"How you feeling?" she asked, placing the hot liquid in front of me.

"Head's itchier than Hell, but I'll get by."

"She sat down in one of the leather chairs across from my desk and laughed. "You gave us a bit of a scare there. One more inch to the right and I'd have to take this office from you."

"Oh, you sound so heartbroken," I stated sarcastically, and we both laughed. I took a small sip of the chocolaty confection and looked at the Newspaper Crimson had. "What's with the paper?"

She seemed to hesitate at first, but soon handed me the paper. I took it and looked at the front page:

"SUPER VILLAIN GROUPS ATTACK PRESIDENT; LIBERATOR INVOLVED?"

I couldn't believe what I had just read. I was the one who helped saved that fat fuck and now he was blaming this whole thing on me? According to the article, The Dominatrix had somehow began to say that I was the one who organized this whole attack, and that she was a simple bystander who was sent in against her will to do his dirty work.

"This is complete bullshit!" I shouted so loudly that a few of the people passing by my all glass office door stopped and looked. They soon passed, but my anger didn't. "I'm the reason that asshole still has the ability to breath! There's fucking security footage of the incident all over the internet and with the fucking FBI! How the hell could they think that I'M responsible?"

"It's the media, Ben," Crimson stated, taking back the paper and sitting back down. "They'll do anything to get papers sold. Even out the most famous hero in all of New York and the United States."

"I have to do something about this before it gets out of hand!"

"It's too late for that."

Both Crimson and I pulled firearms as we faced the source of the unknown voice. Leaning against the wall to my right was a man neither of us had seen before. He wore a long black trench coat that reached to his knees, dark blue jeans, a black shirt with a weird symbol on the front in white and a white headband across his eyes. I wasn't sure if he was blind, or that was just for show and the material was see-through.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get in here!" I demanded, slowly stepping forward, gun at the ready.

"You're already too late to do anything about you're involvement in the White House Incident, you know."

"Explain yourself!" Crimson demanded, the barrel of her gun nearly an inch from his face. He looked up at her and gave a small smile before standing straight up. He looked about 6' 2", when he wasn't hunched over.

"The government and Army are already in high amounts of mobilization. They have bases on full combat alert, and rumors of a secret squad are in place, one that is supposed to make S.H.I.E.L.D from Marvel comics look like a Boy Scout troop."

I slowly began to lower my gun; Crimson kept hers on him. "What are you trying to say?"

He didn't respond right away. Instead, he walked away from the wall and towards the door of my office. Before he left, he turned his head and looked right at me (Or at least I think he did).

"Time will tell if you truly are prepared for what is ahead, Liberator. Only time already has spoken."

He left without another word. The second the door closed Crimson unloaded her gun and looked to me.

"What the hell was that all about? Who was that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, by this point," I stated, looking back to the wall…then I noticed something I hadn't before. I walked over to the wall, and taped to it, right where that guy had been standing, was a small piece of paper. I grabbed it and turned it around to read the four words scrawled on it in Permanent Sharpie Marker.

Just Call Me Rogue

"Rogue…" I barely even realized I muttered it out loud. Crimson took the paper from me and read it herself, giving me a questioning look. After my shrug, we went back to drinking our hot cocoa and chatting idly into the night, as we often did as of late. If I didn't know any better, I'd call these times dates.

= = = = = White House. 12:43 AM. Three Days after the White House Incident = = = = =

The President couldn't sleep. This had been his first assassination attempt, and he had never expected it to be anything like that, let alone to happen to him at all.

He got out of his bed, leaving the First Lady to snooze silently in the dark of the Lincoln Bedroom where they slept. Walking to the door, we knocked three times, allowing the guards outside to know he had intentions of going into the Oval Office at this late hour.

They permitted him through and followed him there. All along the way armed guards stood, many with assault rifles and shotguns, saluting him as he passed. Security had been nearly tripled since the attack, and anyone without level 2 clearance or guard status wasn't allowing with fifty feet of the president upon risk of death.

Seating himself in his chair, he dismissed the guards from the office as he pushed a single button on his phone. The phone rang for a brief moment before someone on the other end picked up.

"You're up late, Mr. President," stated Army General Jacob" Scarface" Koons. His nickname came from the massive scar that ran from his left eye down across his face towards the right side of his chin. He had gotten in what a helicopter had blown up thirty feet from the ground above him in Vietnam. He was lucky to have lived.

"Can't sleep before major announcements," he stated, leaning back in his chair. "Is everything ready?"

"We have strike teams ready at nearly fifty confirmed targets, all awaiting my orders. Those orders, of course, can't be given without yours, sir."

"I know that, General. Team HH is in full preparation for the next few days?"

"Better than ready, sir. Anxious. Excited. Ready to die if needed to defend their country from these threats to freedom."

"Good." He paused for a moment to light himself a cigar, taking a few puffs and dumping the ash into an ashtray before returning to the call. "Send them in, General."

"I won't hesitate another moment." The General hung up the phone at that point, clearly ready to distribute orders.

The President stood and looked out the window of the Oval Office. The cigar rested between his teeth as he watched the rain lightly fall.

"Soon my worries will be over." A smile came to his face as he finished the cigar and returned to bed. He didn't wake for the rest of the night. Tomorrow was a big day for him.

= = = = = HQ. 12:31 PM. Minutes before the President's Announcement = = = = =

HQ was in mass panic over the events on the night before. In a stirring upset, nearly sixty of the heroes I had helped trained and befriended were arrested in their beds. Some of them got away and warned others. Many went into hiding, and HQ was a mass of trying to warn other heroes and find shelter.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded as the news reports showed the events of last night.

"Must be some privately funded group of anti-hero commandoes," Ghost stated, watching the TV intently.

"Not possible," Arrow stated." Look at those uniforms; those are U.S. military all right. Up-to-date and slightly improved by the looks of them."

"This was no freak coincidence," Crimson stated into my ear. "There were a lot of good heroes arrested, many of them well known."

"Looks like we'll have to see what our beloved Commander-In-Chief has to say about all of this," Ghost stated, pointing to the TV. The President had announced a Press Conference for today about two hours after the events that went down last night. Either he was involved, or wanted to shift blame away from himself. I sure as hell hoped it was the latter.

The President stood in front of the podium, nearly thirty microphones inches from his mouth. Cameras flashed as reporters took his picture, all anxious to hear what he had to say.

"My fellow Americans," he began, regardless of this being a worldwide broadcast. "For the nearly two years now, we've had superheroes walking our streets. The one who called himself Kick-Ass was the first, but certainly wasn't the last. Any of you will remember the more recent events with the hero known as The Liberator, who saved us all from a truly trying time indeed.

"I stand before you today in the hopes of shedding light upon the events of last night. Reports say that sixty four people of varying ages were jailed last night, having been pulled from their families, their homes. These people were threats to America, and possibly the world itself.

"Three days ago, I was attacked in the Oval Office by a woman calling herself the Dominatrix, the latest in a long line of Super Villains. I was nearly killed in the battle that took place, and am lucky to be alive.

"But I do not stand before you today to relive the past. I stand before you today to show a glimpse of the future!" He pointed past the crowd as the cameras panned and turned to see what he was pointing to.

Within seconds, a large platoon of jeeps, helicopters, and other military vehicles had surrounded the crowd, each with a HH symbol painted on them. Troops poured out of the vehicles wearing advanced and even mechanical looking armor, standing alongside the reporters and the President himself. The cameras panned back towards him as he began to speak once more.

"These highly skilled and heavily trained soldiers have been given a special task, one that they will uphold with the highest of honors. They are known as the Hero Hunters, and they will make sure that our land is kept safe from these so called 'heroes,' so that our children don't have to pass rubble in the streets each and every day. So that our future can be filled with prosperity, not despair! Ladies and Gentlemen, as of this very moment, it is illegal to be dressed as a superhero in the United States of America. All who are found guilty will be arrested on sight. Thank you."

The camera's flashed like crazy as the President walked away from the podium, leaving a flurry of reporters badgering him with questions that wouldn't be answered. All eyes turned towards me as I stood there, a look of shock and hatred on my face.

"Well, looks like Comic Con is cancelled for this year," Ghost stated, probably not meaning to do so out loud.