Author: Nils Bolle aka The Outlander

Disclaimer: Heroes was invented by Tim Kring and I do not own any of the copyrighted material he and his co-workers have produced since creating the concept. References to other franchises are purely for entertainment's sake, and I do not seek to profit from them, nor rob their creators from any profit.

Title: Anti-Heroes

Summary: A mighty new Hero rises, but does he want to save the world?

Chapter: Chapter 3 – The Company

Chapter Summary: On their way to school, Lucas and John are approached by 2 mysterious men.

Timeline situation: A couple of days after 'How to stop an exploding man'.

"Dude,you really need to learn how to get out of bed on time," John said as Lucas slammed the front door shut behind him.

"Sorry, pal," Lucas apologised, "it was a late night yesterday. How about yours?"

"Nothing special," John replied.

"Nothing special? Didn't Wu come over?"

"Yeah..." John sighed.

"Well...?"

"It didn't exactly go very well. We, erm... We argued most of the time."

"Oh?"

"Yeah..." John said again.

"What about?" Lucas asked.

"Nothing."

"Oh come on, you know you can tell me," Lucas insisted.

John took a deep breath. "Fine, if you really want to know... We argued about you, okay? About you, and our friendship. Our friendship, and how much it means to me. It means so much to me that I wasn't prepared to let you drop. She didn't like it and broke up with me. Happy now? That what you wanted to hear?"

Lucas was baffled. He didn't know what to say, so he just opened his mouth a few inches. Eventually the words "I'm sorry" managed to find their way out.

"Well..." John began with a distorted facial expression, "don't be. I mean, I wanted this to happen. Besides, if she's that intolerant I don't even want her as my girlfriend."

Lucas faintly smiled, but inside he was overcome with pride and joy. They had always lived according to the "bro's over ho's"-tenant and he was happy it remained that way. Because quite frankly, he couldn't really imagine his life without his best friend at his side.

"I appreciate that, man," Lucas said quietly, "I really do. It's probably..."

"Hang on a sec," John interrupted, holding up a hand to shut his friend up. "See that?" he asked, pointing at two people in suits who were standing on the corner of the street. One of them had short white hair and a stubbly beard. Just by looking at him, especially the facial structures, John could tell he was an Eastern European, or at least descended from them. The other one seemed younger, had brown hair, albeit with a couple of grey spots around the temples. He had a firm moustache that made him look like a very strict man that you rather wouldn't cross. His hair was combed back and he was rather tall.

"Looks like they're waiting for someone," Lucas suggested.

"Us?" John asked in reply.

"Why would they?" Lucas returned.

"I don't know…" was John's answer.

Lucas and John upped their pace, hoping to get past both men as quickly as possible. However, when they approached them, the one with the moustache stepped in front of them, effectively blocking their way.

"What the..?" John began but he was cut off by the man with the trimmed white beard.
"Lucas Terry?" he asked as a manner of identity confirmation. John immediately knew he was right about his Eastern European heritage, judging from his accent. There was no sympathy in his voice, although both kids picked up some kind of curiosity in the man's tone.

"Who wants to know?" John asked while Lucas remained silent.

"My partner and I," he said while nodding in the moustached man's direction, "work for a company that deals with extremely talented individuals like your friend. Allow us to introduce ourselves. My name is Ivan Spektor(**), and my partner is called Maarten(*)." He extended his hand, but the teenagers remained weary and did not shake it.

"What do you want from us?" John asked them.

"Nothing from you" Ivan replied, "we're interested in your friend here."

"Why?"

"We believe him to be… special."

"Special how?" John asked, continuing to fire questions at the man.

"Evolved. We don't know any specifics yet. Not entirely anyway… That's why we want to ask him a couple of questions, if it's not too much of a bother."

"Actually, it is," John replied, "we're on our way to school, we're going to miss the subway train."

"It's okay, John," Lucas said. It was the first time he spoke up in the presence of the two strange men. "Let them ask their questions. Then hopefully they'll leave us alone. Right?" he asked, directing his question towards Ivan, as Maarten had remained silent throughout the exchange of words.

"Possibly," Ivan answered. "It all depends on your answers."

"Possibly? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" John crossly said. "Want me to call the police, or something? You're stalking us, aren't you? Hell, could even sue you for threatening Lucas and I!"

"That won't be necessary, I can assure you. We just believe Lucas has the potential to be someone very special, and his answers to our questions might give us some insight on just how special he is. There's no threat in that, is there?"

Sensing that Ivan was trying to outsmart him, John became nervous. Then, Lucas spoke up again.

"Okay, fine, ask your questions. Quickly!" he added. Though he seemed a bit scared, he also looked a bit excited. After all, nobody had called him special before… And even though he was growing a bit tired of all this 'evolution' bullshit, he figured it couldn't hurt him to hear what they had to say.

"Have you noticed something out of the ordinary recently?" Ivan asked.

"Well, there's an awful lot of O3 in the atmosphere these days, and…" Lucas began, but he was immediately cut off.

"That's not what I meant," Ivan said, trying to keep his voice sympathetic, but failing miserably. "I meant about yourself. Some changes in your body, things you can do you couldn't do before…"

"Erm,… Not really," Lucas said, raising his eyebrows. It was becoming clear to him they were dealing with lunatics here.

"Nothing? Nothing at all?" Ivan persisted.

"No, are you deaf!?" John replied in Lucas' stead, and he took his friend by the shoulder. "We really have to go now. Bye! And don't follow us!" he yelled over his shoulder as they disappeared into the subway. Ivan looked at Maarten.

"That didn't go well," Ivan said.

"That was to be expected."

"I guess so. Still, it's a shame. Either we were wrong about him, or either he hasn't manifested."

"What's his supposed ability anyway?" Maarten asked.

"We're not sure, he's an unknown anomaly. Could be anything. For all we know he's an empath. Maybe he can produce fire, like you."

"You think he's got a dangerous gift?"

"I told you, we're not sure yet. That's why we need to find out. He could become very, very dangerous. Or maybe he can just see in the dark or grow an awful lot of hair in his ears."

"Why didn't we just bag and tag him? Easy enough. If he truly is dangerous, as you believe."

"I first wanted to see whether he knew about his ability or not. He clearly doesn't. There was outright confusion in his eyes. Right now, he's just like any other kid out there. But that's bound to change. We'll bag and tag him later, though. Can't have him running around loose. Not until we know what he can do and whether it's a threat or not."

"Good," Maarten said. "Good… We shouldn't take any rash decisions about this kid. He needs to be helped. Shall we go see the parents now, then?"

"Sure," Ivan replied. "Let's go."

"What the hell was that about?" John asked himself out loud when the doors to the subway train slid closed. "Anything out of the ordinary? The only thing out of the ordinary is two guys following you on our way to school."

"Yeah..." Lucas replied. "Strange, huh?" he replied, although deep down he was kind of hoping he would get the chance to meet them again. Lunatics they might be, they did say he could be special. That definitely was a first. But then again, it sounded too good to be true. He was just Lucas Terry. Just a kid. Nothing special. He was reminded of that often enough at school.

"Next time I see them I'ma call the police on their asses,"John began. "Nutjobs, both of them. Did you see that guy's moustache? I mean, come on! Burt Reynolds ain't got nothing on him! And the Russian dude, definitely illegal. Definitely."

"Still, I'd like to know what they meant by 'special'."

"Hey, don't go flying, Luke. Don't let them get inside your head. Forget about them. As I said, they were nutjobs. Let's talk about something else, those dudes have already gotten far more attention than they deserve."

"Okay. Let's talk about... what?"

"How should I know?"

"Okay, this isn't really going anywhere," Lucas sighed. "Maybe we should just shut up."

"Good idea."

Both guys held their tongues until they arrived at the right stop. The train had become very crowded, but it drained empty when over a hundred students pushed their way through the tiny doors. Lucas and John silently followed the mass, until they arrived at the school gate. John looked at Lucas, who was scouting the area.

"Don't worry," John said in an effort to calm down his friend. "Stagnetti only picks on lonely people. I got your back."

"Thanks," Lucas answered with a faint smile. John and him always understood each other without having to speak. It was as if they could read each other's minds. It's why Lucas loved to be around him.

John and Lucas continued towards the playing grounds, until they were approached by a black man in a suit. Lucas immediately seemed to recognise him, but John raised his eyebrows as the man asked them a question.

"I'm sorry, boys, but where exactly is your headmaster's office?"

"Erm, it's through the main door on the right, fourth door on the left I think," John replied.

"Thank you. I think I'll see you boys around later," he said, and gave both Lucas and John a thankful nod and a handshake, which John reluctantly accepted, turned around and left, following the route John had laid out for him.

"Man," John said, "that's the second time today we've been approached by weird men in suits."

"Dude," Lucas whispered in awe, "do you have any idea who that was?"

"What, the black guy?" John asked.

"John, that black guy is professor Wallace Stone, an authority on the workings of the human brain."

"What, no kidding?"

"I shit you not, that man is probably the smartest man in Britain."

"Oh, so he's the man that's going to give us a lecture later today, right?"

"Yep. I've been looking forward to it all week," Lucas added enthusiastically.

"Well, I'm glad at least one of us is interested in it."

"Hey, I thought you were quite into this whole 'evolution' thing?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah," John replied, "but that's not really what he does, is it? He just talks about the brain."

"The brain, yes. But also how the brain evolved over the millennia, and how it affects the body and its functions."

"No shit, Luke? Well, I guess that does sound interesting, but I hope it doesn't become a boring lecture like the one two weeks ago, about the influence of Hegel's dialectics on Marx's philosophy."

"Yeah, that was pretty boring," Lucas admitted. "But I've read about this guy, it seems he's a brilliant storyteller."

The school bell rang, and both boys made their way towards the main hall, where the lecture was going to be given. As they walked past Stagnetti, John and the Italian exchanged dirty looks, but they both kept their mouths shut. They took a seat in the crowded hall, and waited for professor Wallace Stone to begin.

"This the place?" Maarten asked Ivan when he rang the bell.

"Yes, apparently. Not much to look at, is it? Goes to show you that evolution doesn't take social class or wealth in regard."

"You can say that again," Maarten snorted underneath his moustache. "But why did you insist on meeting him on the street? That's something I don't get."

"I told you before, Maarten. He's an anomaly. We know nothing about him. I wanted to talk to him in an open environment, not a confined one."

"But if he had to be stopped, it would've been better out of everybody's view. I mean... I can produce and direct fire, Ivan. It attracts quite a lot of attention."

"There's not a soul on the street."

"Yeah, but still..."

"Drop it, Maarten! Focus on the task at hand," Ivan said, raising his voice.

"Sorry, Ivan," Maarten apologised. "Speaking of the task at hand, they're taking quite a lot of time to open the damn door. You sure they're at home? These are working hours, you know."

"I'm sure of it. We don't know anything about the boy's ability, but I do know a lot about his parents. His father worked in a factory. He got fired 2 weeks ago for being absent too many times. His mother works at home, she runs an internet business. Tupperware."

"Jesus Christ, what a family," Maarten sighed.

"Quite," Ivan replied, and rang the doorbell again. They heard a stumble in the corridor, and a loud curse. The door opened a few seconds later. A small, balding man with a stubbly beard opened. He was clad in a washed-off jeans and a white, sleeveless t-shirt. He looked at the two men as if they were bums, and didn't say a word.

"Mister Terry?" Ivan asked, to which the man nodded. "I am Ivan Spektor, and my partner over here is Maarten. We're here about your son."

"Lucas?" Mr. Terry replied with his gruff voice. "What did he do?"

"Erm, may we come in?" Ivan asked. "We can talk in a more comfortable fashion that way."

"I guess so," Mr. Terry mumbled. Ivan and Maarten were led indoors and guided to a small living room with two couches, and a rather small television. There was a big window looking out on the street, covered by a white see-through curtain and some potted plants. There was a big carpet on the floor, stretching from one corner of the room to the other. It depicted a strange symbol: something that looked like a curly f, with a few dots and stripes. Ivan and Maarten looked at each other.

"So," Mr. Terry began, "what's this about?"

"Well, Mr. Terry," Ivan began, but was cut off immediately.

"Call me Frank."

"Okay. Frank, is your wife at home? We would like her to take part in our discussion."

"Yeah, sure thing. Sharon!!" he shouted at the top of his voice, making the thin window tremble.

A tiny, thin woman appeared out of a room next to the living room, which Ivan suspected to be the kitchen. The woman smelled of freshly peeled onions and burnt toast. She wore a pink dress, which covered her entire body. "What is it, Frank?" she asked with a squeaky voice.

"We got company. These gents here have come to talk about our son."

"Lucas? He's not in trouble is he?" she asked as she sat herself down next to her husband.

"Not at all, dear lady, I can assure you."Quite the opposite in fact. You see, we represent a company that has taken an interest in your son. We believe he has..."

"You're not trying to sell us something, are you?" Frank Terry interrupted. "If so, we're not interested."

"Oh, no, my good man," Ivan continued, not at all taken aback by the man's rather rude interruption. "We believe Lucas is one of the most talented individuals we have ever seen. We have come with a proposition. You see, your son could mean a lot to those we work for."

"Could?" Frank interrupted again. "So you're not sure, then?"

"Well, no," Ivan admitted. "But that is where you could come in handy. If it's not too much of a bother, we'd like to ask you some question about Lucas. If that's all right with you," Ivan added.

"Well, ask away I suppose," Sharon Terry replied. "If it could mean Lucas gets a chance in life, we have to take it. Right, Frank?"

"I guess so," her husband replied. "Ask your questions."

"Well, first off: how do the two of you see Lucas?" Ivan asked.

"He's a good kid," Frank replied. "Doesn't do any harm to anyone. And he does all right in school. Not brilliant, but... still all right."

"He's very enthusiastic," Sharon continued. "When he puts his mind to something, he doesn't rest until he has achieved his goal. And he has such an amazing imagination!"

"Yeah, one might say he's got his head in the clouds a bit too much. But he does what is required of him, I guess. He's a good son."

"Great," Ivan replied, not knowing what to think of these answers. "And has he ever absolutely excelled at something?"

"Not that I know of," Frank said, shaking his head and pursing his lips. "He's average at most things he does; although I personally think it's just a lack of motivation."

"Has he ever done something special?" Ivan asked. "Something you thought was strange, but not necessarily bad?"

"Er, not really, no," Sharon said, also shaking her head. "He's just... been here. That's about it."

"You haven't had the feeling at all he's somewhat different from other kids his age?" Ivan continued.

"Well," Frank replied, "he doesn't talk that much. He's got only one real friend, the Mulrooney kid from a couple of houses down the road. He's not as talkative as others, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. He says something when it's required of him. It's not a nuisance, is it, Sharon?"

"Oh, no, not at all. But it's true, he never was someone to handle the big crowds."

"And has something changed about him, recently? Things he can do he couldn't before. Physical changed, maybe? Or mental changes."

"Mental changes?" Frank remarked. "What on earth do you mean?"

"Well, as if he suddenly started remembering everything, or got a lot smarter, or..."

"Oh, like that," Frank said, nodding his head.

"Yes?" Ivan hopefully remarked.

"No, not at all," Frank answered, shaking his head. "He's just Lucas..."

"Well, he did tell me that his backside got a lot bigger over the past few weeks, but that's probably just the hormones kicking in," Sharon added.

"About goddamn time," Frank laughed out loud. Ivan smiled wryly.

"I see. Well, that's about it. Thank you for your time, Mr. And Mrs. Terry." Ivan and Maarten got to their feet, and both Lucas' parents stood up as well. They shook hands, and made their way to the door. They were let out by Frank Terry, who asked them when they were going to hear from them again.

"We'll contact you as soon as we know anything," Ivan said with a faint smile.

"Great! See ya!" Frank replied, and slammed the door shut.

"Well, that was a goddamn waste of time," Maarten said.

"True," Ivan added. Goddamn waste..."

[Author's notes: */Maarten

**/Ivan]