Disclaimer: As usual, don't own Incredibles...Pixar and the Mouse do. Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf still does (but if I ever win the Mega-Millions, that will change).

Author's Notes: Okay we are now officially over halfway through the Countdown series. Again...no body count in this one...sorry. But there is one coming, I promise. I've been hinting at this group called the "Church of Michael Archangel" since the end of "Interesting Times" and here they are. For those of you who are familiar with Aberrant 'verse (particularly you, Walker), I will admit that I did take some liberties with the leadership of the CMA, but I only have the one supplement to go on (and I don't think they made any others for this group). I know that Estaban Torano was more of a "spokesman" and not really part of the upper leadership, but I elevated his role a little. Oh...and Walker, yeah...about Arboghast...nothing changes in that regard. As usual...comments, criticisms, and threats are welcome, though pompous jackasses will be kicked to the curb (Yes, Jason Barnett and Agnar, that means you two!) Oh..and for those of you expecting Dash to receive some payback for what happened last chapter...sorry, not this time around.

The Church of Michael Archangel

Assessment by the Office of Abnormal Religious Pathologies

This is an executive summary, gathering together extensive intelligence work and the reports of trusted operatives.

The Church of Michael Archangel is undoubtedly one of the most dangerous of the NARs (Nova-Associated

Religions). We estimate that it has not less than 4,350 active members and at least 11,600 SUSS (Sympathetic

Unaffiliated Supporters) of Grade 11 or higher. A random sampling of known members of this organization reveal

firearm ownership rates from 2.2 to 3.4 times above the locally adjusted per capita firearm ownership rate.

The apparent disorder of the cult's organization indicates the presence of sophisticated planners. Many

media observers have fallen for the cover story of gradual evolution. Obviously, the unified model of cult development

presented by the Office of Criminal Organizational Socio-dynamics rules out any such possibility. We

believe that the cult's operational center is, in decreasing order of probability, in Austin, Texas; Coeur d'Alain,

ID or rural Montana.

Pacific Ocean

Somewhere off the California Coast

Buddy Pine calmly looked out the windows of the dining room/lounge area of the yacht, momentarily enjoying the panoramic view of Catalina Island before turning his attention to the palm-held computer. He thumbed through various options on a menu before bringing up the comm display. Satisfied with the settings for his upcoming teleconference with his new clients, he allowed himself a tiny smile.

Though he was still pissed that the Nakato had ripped off some of his property and had the gall to try to market it, he mentally applauded their taste in resources and toys. In this case, this lovely fifty meter long mega-yacht with helipad and the latest in state of the art electronic navigation that happened to be sitting in a marina just a half mile away from the Port of Vancouver. The little palm-held computer he had taken off one of the Nakato gave him all the information he needed regarding immediate assets in the local area. It was a simple matter of hacking into the yacht's automated security systems and killing off the seven security personnel on board.

From there, he made his way down to Seattle, where he emptied some of the Nakato's bank accounts and enjoyed a night at a posh hotel before heading down the coast where he hit San Francisco, California. He had told his prospective new clients that he would contact him within a week...he had hoped to establish his credibility with them by making an impact.

And he had made an impact. He killed well over a million people with his escape, but he really didn't want to advertise THAT just yet. He did succeed in killing an entire Nakato cell in Vancouver...something notable, but that really didn't count towards his credibility. However, destroying an entire Nova super-team, that was a winner.

Unfortunately, Buddy wasn't happy with that. Being the perfectionist that he was, he wanted a one-hundred percent kill ratio to present to his new clients, but he didn't kill all members of the San Francisco based Protectors. The little bitch called Blazestone managed to survive, though the media reported her to be in serious condition.

She should be dead, but nooooo...that little shit had to show up out of nowhere and ruin it.

Buddy wasn't sure who that unknown nova was that showed up, but he was going to find out. The bastard ruined his plans and actually came close to beating him. What made things worse is that he took a shot from Buddy's rail-gun and got up from it.

But that's okay...I'll have to come up with some heavier artillery next time. I wonder if the little fucker can regenerate when he's blown to pieces...

He smiled at the mental image of the unknown nova being blown to bloody bits, then shook his head and chuckled. A quick glance at digital clock mounted above the entrance to the lounge told him it was a minute before seven in the evening. He brought up a now familiar phone number on the palm-held and had the yacht's communications system make the call. He then had the audio put through the room's speaker system.

"Yes?"

Buddy smiled as he recognized the voice as the same one he talked to before. "Hello...it's me again. I told you that I would contact you in five days. I just wanted to know what you thought of my display in San Francisco."

"I will admit it was fairly impressive," conceded the voice at the other end. "You did destroy an entire team of novas, though I heard one of them did survive."

"Yeah," Buddy admitted. "I screwed up, but still...her condition's critical and I doubt she'll be doing much for awhile." He grinned as he remembered the horrified look on the second Blazestone's face when she realized he was the man who killed her mother. "The little bitch is traumatized and facing off against an emotional cripple is a lot easier than facing healthy person."

"You have a point there."

"So, have you talked to your fellow colleagues in the movement?" Buddy asked as he thumbed through a web browser on the palm-held, bringing up a Church of Michael Archangel website.

"Yes, and I can say that we are all interested in what you have to offer."

"Good to know. I'm pulling up your website now and I'm sending you an e-mail with an encrypted code. Pass it on to your colleagues and have them use that when they make a visual call. I'll expect to talk to four of you within the next hour."

"You seem fairly confident dictating terms Mr..."

"For all intents and purposes, call me 'Gabriel', Doctor Piper."

To Buddy's surprise, Micah Piper laughed. "An interesting choice of alias," he said. "Did you choose it out of sarcasm or irony?"

"A little bit of both," Buddy admitted. "You have one hour, Piper. I'll be waiting. And trust me...you will not be disappointed."

Buddy then killed the connection and then brought up more files on his palm-top. He then had the large plasma screen on the wall of the lounge flash to life, displaying the data on the palm-top. He then pulled up the Project Utopia website, and then clicked on the "Team Tomorrow Headquarters Virtual Tour" link. Another sub-menu popped up, showing the available packages for T2M-Asia/Pacific, T2M-Europe, T2M-Central, and T2M-Americas.

He selected the T2M-Americas option and watched as the virtual tour activated. As the air-headed blonde walked the viewer through T2M-Americas headquarters in Mexico city, Buddy shook his head in disbelief.

A new age of supers, and people are so willing to reveal their secrets to the public...definitely not like the old days where the concept of "secret identity" meant something.

Then he shrugged it off, walked over to the small wet-bar in the lounge, and helped himself to a beer as he watched the tour continue.

Oh well...at least it will make things easier for me.

Syndrome Software & Technology

Metroville, California

"Dammit, Null, I'm going to be fine," David snapped. "I'm not taking these painkillers, even if they are extra strength and do work on a nova."

"C'mon David, that's Doc Taylor's orders," Null said, placing a bottle of water and two large white caplets on David's desk. "He may have been able to repair the broken ribs, but you have to take it easy for the next day or two to completely heal from it."

David shook his head. "No...the last time Nigel Taylor gave me pain killers, it made me a little wonky."

"Oh yeah..never heard you sing Pink Floyd's 'Learning to Fly' before." Null chuckled as he remembered that day. "Too bad we didn't have a karaoke night going, you probably would have won."

"It's not funny, Null."

"Maybe not for you, but it was for Zoe and me."

"Don't remind me," David grumbled. "Zoe still has that video of it."

Null gave his friend an evil grin. "Yeah...I know...and it shall be preserved for all time."

"You're an asshole, Null."

"And very good at it," Null replied, his grin getting even bigger. Then his grin faded as he replayed the night's events and a thought crossed his mind. "Do you even know what made the little shit come after you like that?"

David shook his head. "No, can't think of any real reason," he replied. "I mean, why now? I didn't say anything to his family lately. I think Violet would have warned me if something was happening."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah...for the most part. Violet may not fully trust me, but I don't think she'd just sit by and let her brother beat the hell out of me like that." David smiled back at Null. "If she had a problem with me, she'd beat the shit out of me all by herself. And to be honest, I'd be more worried about her than her brother. She likes to break jaws when she's pissed."

"Oh yeah," Null said, his grin returning as he remembered Violet's fight with Kari McKeen. "I heard Firewing had to have her jaw wired shut for two weeks. Must be torture for that bitch...being unable to talk and not use her mouth at all...I bet Pax must have been disappointed. No action because his toy's in traction."

David was sipping his bottled water and almost choked on it when he heard Null's comment. After gasping a couple seconds before recovering, he looked at Null and shook his head. "You just had to go there, didn't you?"

"Why not?" Null shrugged and waited until David took another sip of water. "Besides, knowing Pax, he's probably just shooting blanks, so McKeen probably isn't missing much"

Again, David started choking on his water. "Dammit, Null!"

Null was about to say something else, but stopped when the door to David's office opened and Violet entered. "Hey, David, I just wanted to-" Violet stopped in mid-sentence when she saw David. "What the hell happened to you?"

Null and David looked at each other moment, as if trying to decide whether they should tell the truth. David was the first to say something, cutting Null off. "Ah...it's nothing, had a run-in with a pissed off individual who doesn't like young enterprising geeks."

"Ooookay," Violet said. "Now I know you're lying." She turned to look at Null. "What happened?"

Null paused for moment, then nodded. "That's exactly what happened," he said, "David had a run-in with someone who doesn't like geeks."

"And we're not lying," David added. Then he rubbed the side of his head. "Ow...maybe I should take one of those painkillers."

"Okay," Violet said again, this time her voice taking a more serious tone. "As your VP, and friend, I am asking you what happened."

"Hold up," said Null. "David made you VP?"

"Wait...we're friends?" asked David. "When did that happen?"

Null pretended to cry. "I thought I was going to be Vice President of the company," he pretended to whine. "You lied to meeeeeeee."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you'd love to sit in an office and do corporate stuff," David fired back.

"Wait...that means actual office work?" Null shuddered at that thought. "Never mind, I take that back." He glanced back at Violet. "You can be VP."

"Gee, thanks," Violet deadpanned. "And yes, David, I do consider you a friend...sort of."

"Wow...a 'sort of' friend." David thought about it for moment, then nodded. "Okay, I can accept that."

"So, would you mind telling me why half your face is swollen?"

"Bad hockey game?" David offered. After seeing Violet's eyes narrow, he then said, "I was sparring in the gym?"

"Don't think she's buying it, Dave," Null said.

"I think you're right, Null."

"Look," Violet said, "I've had a really bad night...so can you two cut the crap and just tell me what happened?"

"Ah, I take it dinner at Casa Parr didn't go to well?"

"No, David, it didn't. It turned into a family argument and Dash lost his cool and ran off..."

Violet suddenly stopped, her eyes widening as she realized something. "Oh shit," she muttered. "He came here, didn't he?"

Null and David glanced at each other again before nodding.

"And for the record," David said, "I want it stated that your brother has some serious personal issues."

"Oh god! David, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for, Violet? Your brother threw a temper-tantrum and I ended up on the receiving end." David then tilted his head to one side, a thoughtful look on his face. "Although, I am curious...what happened at the Parr dinner table that made your brother morph into a drama-queen?"

This time, Violet hesitated. For a moment, she almost considered telling him the truth, but decided against it and shook her head. "I'm sorry David, it's a family thing. No offense."

"None taken."

"Okay, then," Violet said. She then sat down in the other empty chair in David's office. "So...you want to tell me what happened?"

"No, not really," David replied with a smirk before wincing. "Ow...shouldn't laugh...hurts like hell. Look, Vi, it's not that big a deal...your brother went 'drama-queen' and proceeded to beat the shit out of me via super-speed, end of story."

"Okay, this ends now." Violet pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and started dialing. "I know Dash is pissed off about tonight, but he had no right to take it out on you."

"Who are you calling?"

"My parents."

David got up and reached forward to grab Violet's cellphone out of her hand. "Don't do that," he said, then he winced again and dropped back into his chair. "Ow...okay...maybe I'll take half a pain pill." He set Violet's phone on the desk and picked up one of the white tablets.

"David, this is serious!"

"What would you have me do, Vi? Talk to your parents? In case you didn't notice, I'm not exactly popular with them. They think I'm Syndrome Jr. or something like that."

"True, but even they wouldn't stand for this!" Violet slammed her hand down on the desk to emphasize her point.

"Ow! No sharp tones and loud noises, please," David half-whined. He then looked over at Null who was silently sitting there, smiling as he watched the confrontation play out. "What you're not going to say anything?"

"Why should I?" Null shook his head, his grin getting even bigger. "I'm having too much fun watching you two go at it."

David gave his friend a one-fingered salute and shook his head. "Fuck this...I'm going to crash upstairs in one of the resident suites." He broke one of the pain pills in half and swallowed one of the halves while putting the other in his pocket. "We'll talk about this tomorrow," he said as he got up and half-stumbled for the door.

"But David-" started to argue.

David cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Let it go until tomorrow Violet," he said while opening the door. "Just don't bring your parents into this. We'll talk tomorrow and maybe you can explain why you're wearing tight leather and carrying a whip."

Violet blinked for a moment, not sure if she heard correctly. "Um...David, what was that? I'm not wearing leather and carrying a whip."

David's eyes were glassy for a moment until he shook his head. "Damn...even half strength, these are a bitch..." He then dropped to his knees. "Null, tell Nigel I'm going to beat the shit out of him." Then he fell forward, unconscious.

Null arched an eyebrow, still sitting in his chair. "Damn...Nigel really improved the mix."

Violet got up and walked over to where David had fallen. "C'mon, help me get him upstairs."

"Why?" Null laughed. "This is funny as hell."

"Null!"

"Alright, alright...jeez." Null got out of his chair and helped Violet pick David up off the ground. "To be honest, he does own this place...technically, this is his home, we could just leave him there." Then he gave Violet an evil grin. "Or we could dress him up in drag and take pictures."

"Okay, I thought you two were friends," Violet said.

"We are," Null replied as he and Violet dragged a now snoring David to an elevator. "In fact, we'd be willing to die for each other," he added, his smile fading slightly and a haunted look in his eyes. "Very few people have earned my trust and David's one of them." Then the smile returned to full form and the haunted look faded. "But that doesn't mean we can't play practical jokes on each other."

They took the elevator to the third floor and dropped David on a couch in one of the residential suites. As they headed back to the elevator, Violet decided to bring something up that been bothering her about Null.

"Hey, Null...I was going through the employee files and I noticed that you're not listed. You're not even on the payroll."

Null smiled at her as the entered the elevator and the doors closed. "And yet," he said, "I still collect a paycheck...funny how that works, isn't it?"

"As the VP, I should have access to all employee records. I tried a background check on you and guess what...it's like you don't exist."

"Really?" Null paused for a moment, a confused expression on his face. "Well, then if that's the case, then you have a problem. If I don't exist, then I'm not really here." The doors to the elevator opened when they reached the first floor and Null stepped out before turning to face Violet. "Therefore, that means you've been talking to yourself...not a good sign of mental stability."

Before Violet could respond, the elevator doors closed on her. "Hey!" she snapped, pushing the button to open the door. "You can't just..." she started to say as the doors opened, only to find herself staring at an empty corridor, "disappear like that."

She stepped out of the elevator and looked around the empty SST lobby.

"Dammit, I hate when he does that."

Pacific Ocean

Somewhere off the Coast of Baja

Buddy studied the four individuals that appeared in a four-way split screen on the digital screen that took up one wall of the state room. He spent the last few days learning about these four and while he had been in contact with Micah Piper, he still didn't know what to make of the other three who made up the rest of the inner-circle that controlled The Church of Michael Archangel.

Micah Piper was a man in his early 60s with graying hair and sharp facial features that reminded Buddy of a predator stalking its prey. Their was a cold and calculating intelligence in the man's eyes that made it very clear that he was not one to be trifled with. Even now, Buddy was certain that Micah Piper had people off-screen somewhere trying to track his position, or at the very least locate where he was transmitting from.

Then again, he is the acknowledged leader of their movement. He's probably got the same people keeping tabs on his colleagues as well.

The second man on the screen struck Buddy as an odd figure. A blond haired man in his early fifties or late forties, Reverend Theobald Horton looked more like slick used car salesman or some seminar speaker. For a moment, Buddy was expecting the man to suddenly start talking about some new "money making technique". However, one look at the man's eyes told Buddy that, like Piper, there was an intelligence there...one that was willing to kill and do whatever it took to accomplish his goal.

Then again, this guy tends to put on a friendly face to the public, then has some thugs show up in the middle of the night to torch someone's house because they might be a suspected nova. If anyone is taking pages out of the Ku Klux Klan handbook, it would be this fucker. He's got that slightly unstable gleam in his eye...more than the others...better be careful of him.

The third man was also in his forties, a Hispanic minister from LA, Estaban Torano seemed like the odd man out of the bunch. The friendly smile on his face, along with the way he gave the CMA a "human" face to the media, was one of the main reasons the Michaelites got support from a large portion of the baseline community. When he debated with critics, he would present a strong argument with facts to back them up.

And like the others, this man also possesses an intelligence. However, I don't think he has that "killer instinct" or the desire to get his own hands dirty. Though I'm sure with the right words and argument, he could motivate others to do the job. I wonder if he and Horton have each other on speed dial.

The final man, the youngest of the group, was a young minister from New York in his mid-thirties. Reverend Milo Arboghast. There was something about the man Buddy didn't like at all. Actually, he didn't like any of them that much, but there was something about Milo that just didn't seem right. The man had the look and air of a true-believer/fanatic and yet...something just didn't seem to fit.

He really doesn't have much of a track record as the others, but he has a strong following in New York, which speaks much about the man's charisma in a place where most of the population support the novas who live there. But what is it about this guy that bugs me?

Buddy mentally shoved that question to the back of his head and smiled at the four men on the screen. "Gentlemen," he cheerfully greeted them. "I am pleased to meet you face to face...sort of."

"What is the meaning of this?" Horton asked, a sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You disrupt our shipment with the Nakato, destroying an operation that took us a month to set up."

"I assure you, Mr. Horton, I did all of you a favor. The Nakato's suppliers were giving you a sub-standard product." Buddy returned the man's sneer with one of his own. "Besides, if they were truly competent businessmen, I wouldn't have been able to kill them all like I did."

"And if you're contacting us just to belittle us, that is a grave error on your part," said Torano.

Buddy rolled his eyes. "Oh please, spare me the threats, Reverend," Buddy said. "I've killed more novas in the last week than you have in the last year."

"We took down the Houston Tornado." Milo Arboghast's tone was cold and even as he spoke. "And we didn't need any of your high-tech weaponry to do it."

"Wow," Buddy chuckled. "So you took out a drunk with superpowers after he downed a couple kegs. Big deal. Newsflash, he was incredibly stupid, and you were incredibly lucky. You killed one nova, a low level one at that, and I really doubt you'll be able to pull off something like that again."

Arboghast was about to respond, but was cut off by Piper who cleared his throat before speaking.

"Brothers, I do believe Mr. Gabriel's actions have earned him the right to be heard out. It's obvious that he has access to technology that is more than capable of killing the devil's own."

"That's not what I heard," Torano snorted. "You didn't kill that entire team in San Francisco."

"Maybe not," Buddy replied, " but it still puts me two up on you." He then dropped the humor out of his voice. "Look, gentlemen, I'm here to talk business. You want to destroy novas because you believe them to be Satan's messengers."

"They are!" snarled Horton.

Buddy resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. Damn fanatics...just can't reason with them.

"Believe what you want Reverend Horton," Buddy said. "I see them as genetically altered beings who need to be reminded that they are still flesh and blood and don't rule world just because they fly, shoot laser beams, or fart an eerie green mist that glows in the dark."

That comment actually got a chuckle from three of the men, though the hint of a smile did tug at Arboghast's mouth.

"So what do you propose, Gabriel?" asked Piper.

"Gentlemen, as I'm sure you've seen from the news coverage of San Francisco, I have a new type of rail-gun and body armor that I intend to produce and make available to you. Yes, the rail-guns are fairly expensive compared to the armor, but I'm sure we can make some sort of deal. Besides, I'm sure I can provide you with other toys that are more affordable. Granted, I won't be able to go into mass production for at least another month or two, but I'm sure I can hook you up with ample supply until then."

"Sounds a little too good to be true," said Horton. "What's the catch."

"Oh, no catch," said Buddy. "We'll have to hammer out some sort of monetary deal, but it'll be a reasonable one. As for my motivation...well, I've been out of the game for five years now. Before that, I was on the run for three years. I'll be the first to admit that I have an agenda of my own. You want to kill novas, and I don't care how many you kill so long as you stay away from the ones I want to target."

"Exactly who did you have in mind?" Piper asked. From the looks on their faces, Buddy could tell they were all interested.

"Syndrome Software and Technologies," Buddy said, though he couldn't help the venom in his voice when he spoke. "I don't care if you cause trouble for them and target some of the little people David Flynn has working for him, but Flynn is mine. Also, though I understand they're not quite as active as a team anymore, I want you to keep your distance away from The Incredibles as well."

"And why should we agree to this?"

Buddy gave them a cold smile. "Because, Mr. Arboghast, I killed a Utopia sponsored super team and, in order to earn your trust, I am going to give you additional little present this week."

"What kind of present?" asked Piper. Buddy wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he heard a little bit of apprehension and maybe even some fear in the man's voice.

"Let's just say that I want you gentlemen to understand that San Francisco was not a fluke. Consider it an early Christmas present from someone who shares most of your views when dealing with false gods. Keep your eyes on the major news networks for the next couple days, it's going to get interesting." Buddy's smile broke into a big toothy grin. "Just do yourselves a favor, if you have people in the Mexico City area...you might want them to lay low or just pull out...it's going to get really bloody."