One of the abilities that had proven very useful to him was his technopathy. Just one glance, and immediately schematics of gadgets and machineries would unfold in his mind, like blueprints floating four-dimensionally. Figuring out how to unlock, encrypt, fry, and reconstruct items brought to him had become a breeze. Bringing his designs to reality had been, too.
And just as well. After completing projects from two known entities, one for an underground group and one for a research and technology titan, requests had been pouring in. His docket of tasks had yet to empty out, and he loved it. He gained more and more notoriety, and that kept him supplied. Because of these, he had established his home on his chosen corner of the earth, equipped with everything he needed and wanted.
One could say that he lacked nothing materially.
Sure, there were nuisances with his line of work. Several people and groups had tried to run away from fulfilling their end of the bargain. They had threatened to hurt him, turn him in, and even harm those whom he loved just so he'd finish the job for free.
Deadbeats. They really had no idea what they were signing up for. They were the reasons why he had become picky with his clients.
Still, the bad ones didn't dampen his enjoyment of this new line of work. He had become a consultant of some kind, and it gave him an opportunity to know types of information that not many were privy to. It broadened his understanding of people and how things usually worked with and between them. That had actually become the basis on which his three basic rules had been set.
Do not accept revenge as a motive.
Do not be wasteful of lives.
Fire a warning shot if warranted.
These kept his hands as clean as possible and his sleep peaceful at night.
. . .
Davenport Industries' 25th anniversary dinner was a black tie event. Board members, employees, company partners, and their families covered the vast ballroom in their flashy evening dresses and well-tailored tuxes. The centers of attention that night, though, were the founders and their families.
The company's CEO and Vice President appeared dashing and handsome in their suits and ties. Their sons were nothing short of eye-catching also, each a debonair in their tuxes. The matriarch and the daughters looked simply elegant and also commanded attention. No wonder everyone watched them and spoke favorably about them in secret.
However, their 'friends' had more pressing reasons to surround them that evening.
These past two years had been difficult for the family. Their acquaintances had heard about what happened to one of their children, and Oh, it's so tragic, I'm so sorry you have to go through this—as if they knew the then-teenaged boy personally. As if they truly cared.
Really, they just wanted to be on a family member's good side; it didn't matter whose. The CEO's sons were the most eligible bachelors around, and parents who wanted to secure their own futures were willing to farm off their daughters for riches beyond their wildest imagination.
Love? That would come later. Just make sure never to mention pre-nups until after the wedding. Once you had the guarantee that you could wipe the family clean of everything they owned whenever you wished to, they would be begging you to love them.
Insincere, dishonest vultures circled the family, and they didn't even know it. He almost felt sorry he had to do this.
Almost.
The CEO stepped up to the podium after the emcee called him to the platform. He flashed a charming smile to the crowd softly clapping for him before starting off with his usual speech formalities.
He leaned back on his chair from his spot in the control room overhead, savoring the non-alcoholic piña colada a waitress kindly served him earlier. While he lounged, he noticed one of the board members sitting at a corner table down a whole glass of champagne before waving a waiter over for another glass. It was understandable. Everyone knew that once the boss was in command of the mic, it could take the whole night. It helped when they listen drunk.
"And so tonight, we celebrate twenty-five wonderful years of being united as we break barriers, push through challenges, and shatter expectations that had been set before us. We have worked hard to get where we are together, and we hope that for the following years to come we would continue to work as one," said the CEO almost half an hour later. "I hope that you will be there, twenty-five years in the future, with my wife and kids when we celebrate another milestone. I will work hard to make sure all of us here would be present there again. After all, you are a part of us, too."
Another round of applause erupted.
The CEO, pleased, beamed brighter. "With that in mind, I hope you enjoy this video presentation that our talented team put together to show how much it means to us as the founders of this company to have you as our family," he finished. Then, he glanced at the control room as a cue, having absolutely no idea who occupied it.
He sat up, dimmed the lights in the ballroom further, and then clicked on a button. He was only too happy to oblige.
Instead of the montage they expected, the first reel showed a dark screen. "Oh—I'm sorry, but people get fired every day," rang the audio. The voice of the company's boss was unmistakable. "Here, watch. I just fired Bob Mackley. …Oops. Sent that to Bob Martin. Well, they're both dead weight anyways."
A hushed gasp went off among the crowd like a bomb.
The CEO, stunned and embarrassed, glanced around to search for the team in charge of the montage. He found that they were as shocked and clueless as he was.
The next reel played, but again there was only darkness.
"It's all right to get help, Leo. There's nothing to be ashamed about."
"You've got me tied up in front of all of you and people I do not know. Talk to me about not being ashamed when you're in my shoes, Chase."
He's here, he saw the speedster mouth to her brothers.
"That's exactly why you need some time away. You have outbursts like this. We're always walking on eggshells when around you, and it's becoming dangerous."
"I've never hurt anyone."
"Yet. What if one day you snap, and you do end up hurting someone?"
"Someone like who, Kira? You think I don't notice?"
"A lot of things had happened these past few months, and you're just overworked. You just need a vacation, somewhere peaceful, where you can get the help you need."
"…Let me go! Mom! Please don't let them do this! Mom!"
Teams, both from security and the CEO's own bionic trio, began to mobilize, but when the third clip blinked on screen, monochromatic but bright and vibrant, they stopped. "This is from Astral Tech, you said?" the CEO, who was one of the only three people in the video, asked.
The scientist nodded. "It's a revolutionary invention, sir. The guy that I know who works there brags about it all the time. He said it'll level out the competition. It might even bring us down."
"Who designed it?" asked the Vice President, the company's own once-rogue inventor.
The scientist shrugged. "They said Lara Robinson herself commissioned this from a freelancer of some kind. She's heard of him from other people, so she got in contact with him," he said. "The company direly needs this for their relaunch. They're in terrible straits right now, and without this they'll go bust."
"The inventor freelancer knows she's showing this to us to consider a merger?"
"I doubt it, but she just wants to be able to prevent her employees from losing their jobs. She cares about them, and she's hoping this could be their lifesaver."
"…Okay. Take this to the development team and see how soon they can begin work on it."
"We can't save that many jobs, Donnie. We're gonna get dragged down with them."
"We also can't afford to give this back. This could sell big internationally. Plus, it'd be helpful for many people."
"So the merger is a go."
After hesitating for a moment, the founder shook his head. "No, but we'll tell them we're considering it. At least while we're working on this."
"What about the freelancer, sir? Should I ask her for his information so he knows someone else has his invention?"
The CEO shook his head. "No. He's already been paid, right?"
"What if he sues us for money?" asked the Vice President.
"We'll lawyer up later. Right now, we focus on this. We need a prototype so we could unveil it on the night of the anniversary dinner as ours."
The video stopped. The room was breathless.
Taking that cue, he clicked on another button.
The string that kept the celebratory banner rolled up snapped. The paper unraveled, but instead of the original message—Davenport Industries: 25 Years of Excellence, Integrity, and Advancement—the crowd saw something completely different. It elicited terrified gasps and expressions of alarm. The company's CEO, who had been mortified by the video, appeared very disturbed when he saw the spray-painted message.
LIARS, it said in crimson.
He stood up, glanced at the unconscious control panel operator lying on the floor, and then turned down the lights in the booth to get a better view. He keenly watched the ballroom below as disorder and murmurings befell it. Suddenly, all whom had almost fallen asleep were fully awake, and the vultures circling around had become turned off by the sight of their targets.
The family, on the other hand, looked confused, and horrified.
He did really feel sorry for them.
In the midst of all of the commotion, the CEO turned his gaze to the booth as if asking why this had been done to him. Confusion turned to recognition and horror. Despite the prevalent darkness, he was able to make out who it was that stood there watching them all.
He stared back at the company's founder without flinching. Compliments of Astral Tech, Mr. Davenport, he thought. Then, he turned off the lights in the booth completely, headed towards the door, and then picked up the bag filled with the materials he retrieved from the laboratories of Davenport Industries earlier. He wasn't one to judge against someone taking something that didn't belong to them. His employer, however, had strong feelings about it.
With everything he needed secured in his possession and a security team heading his way, he vanished in a burst of dark smoke.
. . .
He was being followed.
It had been a few weeks since he first noticed the person's presence. It had neither concerned nor made him feel threatened. In fact, he was expecting it. The job he pulled the night of the anniversary dinner revived the manhunt for him. He didn't really care. He knew how to vanish when he needed to vanish, and he was much more familiar of how to travel through the 'trap doors' of this planet than they were. Matters like being caught by his pursuers didn't faze him.
Even now it didn't. Despite the shadow tailing him, his peace was intact. He was, however, curious.
Because he knew her personal reason for being there. Because he knew who sent her.
Because he knew both didn't match as they were supposed to.
That was why he thought it fair to give her an advice. They were good acquaintances once upon a time, and, to a degree, he cared about her.
After luring her out to a café in uptown New York one night, he asked the waiter to deliver a message for her along with a cup of hot chocolate to warm her on that cold evening. Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat, Miss Valentine? he wrote.
He left as she was reading it.
. . .
Roman and Riker were two of the youngest marks he had ever had, but they were also the most typical. The information he gathered about them was so disinteresting. Superpowered young adults, brothers. Father 'wronged' in some way. Out to eliminate everybody. Revenge.
Why did it always have to be revenge? He supposed anger was one of the greatest motivators, but it also drove one to recklessness. He had seen it play over and over again both on TV and on real life. Do these people not learn?
He continued to ascend up the rooftop of the abandoned building, hands inside his pockets. It didn't seem very practical coming there in a new three-piece suit and a tie, but he was feeling the look tonight. Plus, he was set to make an appearance in front of a widely respected superhero team.
Yes, they may all be on the verge of getting beaten to a pulp, but he still wanted to look as nice as they were, hopefully even more.
He twisted the rusted knob then pushed the door open to the rooftop. Snow stormed in all around, covering the city in a thick, slushy blanket. The wind was cutting and unforgiving. It bounced off from building to building when it blew, causing a tornado-like effect all around.
This spectacle, however, was lost to the seven who had been up there for some time now. Screaming echoed from the rooftops as four of the city's very own Elite Force was held up by violent ropes of electricity. In Roman's grasp, they were all powerless. Riker, meanwhile, stood guard beside the superhero they had been after, the Calderian who was on her knees, bent over, after her energy was drained significantly.
He watched with crossed his arms, leaning on the wall. The show was getting interesting.
"Even if you defeat us, other heroes will rise," the team's appointed leader fiercely asserted to Roman. "Even if we die tonight, eventually you'll fall in the hands of another team."
The electrokinetic villain pretended to consider this seriously. "Well, I guess you're right about one thing: you all will die tonight," he said.
The four screamed as he electrocuted them again.
He rolled his eyes at Roman's penchant for pointless actions. What a coward. If he wanted to get rid of them, he should've done it already.
It was then that Riker noticed him. He frowned and then barked, "Hey. Who are you? What are you doing here?"
He smiled when Roman, as well as the team of five, looked his way. "Oh, don't mind me," he told Roman. "I can wait until you've got everything out of your chest."
Roman lowered his hand, confident that the electricity he bound the rest of the team with would hold while he dealt with the intruder. He swiveled towards him and asked, "You don't know what you just got yourself into, do you?" He gathered a sphere of electricity within his palm then flung it towards him.
The shot only went through. It hit the opposite building instead, dying with a sizzle. He smirked when their eyes widened. He pulled out a white index card from his jacket pocket to consult it. "Let's see. Roman, Riker, last name not important. Some information that you'd probably rather stay between the three of us… Shapeshifters. Electrokinetic. Some other powers." He waved the card as he met Roman's eyes. "See? I did my homework. I do know what I'm getting myself into."
"Oh. I know who you are. You've been on the news," Riker said. He pointed to Chase then Bree, saying, "Their father's been after you."
He smirked at the super genius and the speedster. "Yes. Their father has been after me," he confirmed.
"I'm not interested in teaming up," Roman muttered.
"Teaming up? I think you have the wrong idea." He dusted the snow off his suit. "I'm here in behalf of somebody. She wanted me to send you a message."
"A message?" Riker repeated.
He nodded. He pulled out two slender, identical items from his jacket pocket. "For her husband, Absolute Zero," he said. "Catch."
The small, sharp stones was thrown towards them in such a high velocity that they didn't have time to react. Riker was hit first then Roman. The items lodged themselves deeper into the brothers' arms then did their work.
The two yelled out in absolute agony. They fell to their knees, clutching their shoulders to stop the pain from spreading. However, it only continued on and on until it had become unbearable. Their brains shutting their bodies down, Roman then Riker passed out on the muddy cement. As they did, the members of the superhero team previously held hostage up in the air were released, dropping down to the earth unceremoniously.
Uninterested in that last consequence, he took note of how the younger of the brothers held on longer than the other. He was right, and the others were wrong: Riker was stronger than Roman.
As the team struggled to get back up, he walked over to Skylar then knelt down beside her. He noted how pale she looked under the lampposts. Her lips had lost their typical rouge. She also shivered uncontrollably. It was obvious she fought to stay awake.
He took off his jacket then draped it around her. He gently lifted her chin towards him so she could see him and then smiled, communicating to her that everything was okay and that she was safe now.
Confusion glazed her eyes, but somewhere within he saw a spark that told him she understood.
"You saved us," Chase said, his anger and frustration over everything that happened to their family the past few years evident in his voice. "Why?"
He got up to his feet then faced them. From Chase's and Bree's faces, he could tell that they blamed him. They were also contemplating about attacking him. That, he only smirked at. "I'm not here to help you," he said.
Upon cue, the four went up on the air again, pressed against the wall of a maintenance room by a magnetic force.
"Absolute Zero's wife asked that I stop these two," he corrected the super genius. "Finding out that the love of her life died because of them had destroyed her. She said she doesn't want anyone to feel the way she and her children feel ever again. She and a few other superheroes who I will not name are the reasons why I'm here."
"So that's what you are now? A mercenary for hire?" the speedster screeched.
He thought about that. "No. I rarely do any hands-on work nowadays. The people who hire me usually have people for that," he responded. "I just wanted to do this one my own, so I can tell my client honestly that the job is done and that I personally saw to it that it got done."
"What did you do to them?" asked the pyrokinetic of the team.
He glanced at the brothers. "I'm not doing anything. The little flints of Gray Antelese are," he said.
"Gray Antelese? What, what is that?"
"All you need to know is that Roman and Riker won't cause any more trouble. I imagine it'd be hard to do when they don't have any powers at all," he said. He nodded at Skylar. "Please take good care of her. We don't want another superhero to die on us again, now, do we?"
"You may think you're a good person, but you're not," said Bree, stopping him in his tracks. Tears of anger brimmed in her eyes. "You think you're making a difference by doing things like this, but the truth is you ruin lives, too. You destroyed our family. You destroyed all the good things going for us just because you felt like it. You're so selfish."
He looked up at her face searchingly. "I didn't ruin anything that wasn't already ruined," he told her honestly. "I don't do the things I do out of, what do you think it is – revenge? I don't have any grudge against you or our family. That job at the anniversary dinner, the one that I have a feeling you're talking about? I didn't do that for me. My employer requested that I do it, and I happen to agree with their reasons why I should."
"You agreed because it would bring us down," claimed the super genius.
"I agreed because of two things: that design was mine, and manufacturing it behind my employer's back without telling them is not fair," he said. Then, he added, "If it makes you feel better, half of the people in that room actually knew about that whole Astral Tech situation even before that night. They just pretended they didn't because it's easier to make the CEO and the Vice President the scapegoats. If you want, I could get them all to admit that. That'll take the heat off of your dad and uncle."
The super genius glared at him, but it was obvious that it was charged with hurt feelings. "How much were you paid to betray your own family?" he asked.
"Betray my own family? None, 'cause I wouldn't've accepted anything that would hurt the people who care about me. Now, how much did I get paid to fire a warning shot at a company who almost made a bad choice, well – that's a topic I don't feel comfortable discussing." He shrugged. "You've worked before. You know how it is. You don't ever discuss with anyone how much you get paid.
"By the way, as far as being selfish, I hope you didn't think I don't know what you've been up to. That's not nice, you know. You shouldn't use your friends as your own hitmen," he told the siblings before glancing pointedly at Kaz then Oliver.
The two doctor-turned-superheroes had suspicions about their teammates, he knew, and they deserved that hint of confirmation.
"A word of advice," he said to the super genius team leader, "You've got a great team going on here. Don't ruin it by going after someone less important like me. I've let go of everything that's happened. None of you have any more control over me. Let go of what you think I've done. If you hate me so much, then don't give me that much power over your lives. Do it while you still can."
He didn't wait for their response; he wasn't interested. He turned around, glanced at the young Calderian, and, when he was sure she would be all right, descended back the stairs of the abandoned building.
