Disclaimer: Don't own The Incredibles, Disney/Pixar does. Don't Aberrant, White Wolf still does (and seems content to abandon it). "Psycho Killer" written and performed by The Talking Heads.

Author's Notes: Just so you know, the events of this segment take place before Violet meets up with her father and Jack outside the Parr home. And all these segments in the "Meanwhile" arc take place before Buddy's speech at the end of "Countdown". As usual...thanks to the usual suspects. There is one more segment to this arc coming...and then it's going to hit the fan.

"What I don't get is why won't Utopia just grab the little punk. Mexico is a sovereign nation and Flynn is not protected by whatever secret government agency is shielding him here at home. And with him gone, why don't they don't they go after that little clubhouse that his glee club of the damned calls home. Everyone knows that most of the tech coming out of SST will be in clear violation of the UN sanctioned Sci-Tech protocols. That's more than enough reason for Utopia to storm the facility and take every last one of those traitors in."

-Brandi Miller, Air America Radio

Syndrome Software & Technologies

Metroville, California

Violet frowned as she entered the lobby of SST and saw that the Silicon café was closed. Yes, there were people sitting at the tables, but the actual business run by Ashley was closed with a note on the counter. However, there was an industrial sized coffee maker, a coffee grinder, and several bags of roasted coffee beans as well as what appeared to be a couple hundred squares of homemade rice-crispy treats stacked up to make small tower.

"What's this?" she asked Shiro Murakami who was sitting at one of the tables, a large cup of coffee in one of his hands while he tapped away on his laptop.

"Mmrhff," Shiro mumbled with a mouthful of rice-crispy treat. He held up his finger, signaling her to hold on for a moment as he swallowed his food and then washed it down with a gulp of coffee. "Sorry, Vi…what's what?"

"This," she said, gesturing to the closed café.

"Ah, Ashley took the day off. Roasted up a bunch of beans, made a bunch of goodies for us to munch on this morning, and left a note saying it was on the house." Shiro took another sip of coffee and shrugged. "David's got most of us doing some tracking and logistics work for the relief effort to Mexico City."

"What about the new-hires?"

"Let's see," Shiro said as he tapped a couple keys that brought up a small window on his screen. "Blevins took off this morning with the prep team headed for BS2 in Arizona. Graves is in LA with a promotions crew for next week's Techno-Con presentation, and Peters and Best are down in Mexico City with David."

"He took Damon down there with him?"

"Yeah, and he also had Damon contact his former employer to arrange additional transport and salvage equipment."

"Really, and why wasn't I told about this?"

"Hey, he sent out a memo, didn't you get one? Aren't you the VP or something?"

"Yeah," Violet half-growled. She walked over to one of the four "public terminals" in the cafe and logged in to check her e-mail. "It says I got nothing."

"Really?" Shiro leaped out of his chair, flipping backwards and twisting in the air before landing next to her terminal, folding his wings around his body like a cloak. "Let me take a look at this," he said as he tapped away on Violet's keyboard and brought up a couple windows. "Hmmm...that's odd," he muttered.

"What is it?"

"Well, it looks like someone played around with the main server, preventing not just e-mail to your account here but also keeping it from being forwarded to your phone or private e-mail addy."

"You're saying someone hacked my account?"

Shiro cringed a little at the icy tone in Violet's voice. "Well, not exactly...the only people who really could do that would need some higher access. Access I don't officially have. You weren't hacked, Vi. Someone deliberately logged in and used their access to cut you off."

"Zoe." It might have been a soft growl, but it did cause Shiro to shudder, especially when Violet turned to face him. "Where is that little neon monster?"

Shiro actually took a couple steps back from the SST VP. "Um...well...it's like this," he said as sweat started to bead up on his forehead. He then looked at his watch. "Oh crap, look at the time! I need to run a logistics check." He started to scamper back to the table where his lap-top was located, but yelped in pain when he collided with a force-field that then surrounded him in a bubble and brought him floating back to Violet.

"Shiro," Violet said softly, "you wouldn't happen to know where Zoe is, do you?"

"Oh c'mon, Vi...you know I don't want to anger the pink-haired one, she's insane!"

Violet shook her head, clicking her tongue at him. "Shiro, Shiro, Shiro...I know I'm the 'nice and level-headed one' around here, but that little neon brat has overstepped her bounds with me. If you know where she is, please tell me. Otherwise, I will relieve my frustration by playing an impromptu game of pinball and bounce you around the facility. "

Shiro didn't like the way Violet's voice sounded. It reminded him too much of a female version of Agent Smith from the matrix. "Hey, okay...it's no big deal. She's just hanging out with Ashley for the day. She said something about shopping for clothes from some fashion designer named Mode."

"Mode," Violet repeated, her eyes narrowing. "Edna Mode?"

"Yeah, that's the- waaaaaaaugh!" Shiro managed to roll with the impact as the force bubble was flung back towards his table before dissipating. He landed in an undignified heap and pulled himself up off the ground. "Aw man," he groaned, "I should have taken the transfer to Arizona." Violet stalked out of the cafe and headed towards the elevator, leaving several people wondering what was going on. Shiro grumbled as he got back into his own seat. Dealing with an upset Zoe was one thing, but an angry Violet Parr...that was something he didn't want to deal with. "Starting to feel like a pinata around here, dammit."

"Yo, Shiro," someone called out from the other end of the cafe. "Did you check your e-mail yet?"

"Didn't get a chance, Ricky. Been kind of busy working the logistics for the Mexico relief group."

"Well, you might want to read Zoe's e-mail."

"Oh yeah...you mean the 'Why Emo-Girl is annoying' letter? Didn't get the chance." Shiro shook his head. He understood that Zoe was still a teenager, but her barely veiled hatred towards Violet was kind of a mystery to him. Despite her recent outburst, Violet Parr was actually a nice and likable person...for a VP. "It's really not that important," he said, "and she really needs to grow up and leave Vi alone."

"Agreed," Ricky said, "but I think she might have good reason. Read the letter and watch the attached video."

Shiro sighed, shaking his head again. "Okay, fine," he said as he brought up his e-mail and read Zoe's latest "I hate Violet Parr and here's why" rant. It was pretty much the same old vitriol and anger, though Shiro had to admit Zoe had a way with words and insults. Then he saw the video and his blood ran cold. He recognized the blond haired speedster beating the shit out of David. He had seen the punk a couple of times talking to Violet out in the parking lot, but the guy never actually entering the building. It was her brother, Dash Parr. He checked the time index on the video. "Whoa, according to logs, this happened a few days ago."

"Wait, someone beat the shit out of the bossman and he just simply let it slide?" Ricky Bernal shook his head as he rolled his chair from his table over to Shiro's. "That doesn't sound like the David Flynn I know."

"Yeah, but to be fair, he's had a lot of crap to deal since then. Having Mexico City being devastated from some Earthquake caused by something other than natural forces and providing emergency relief kind of trumps dealing with some whiny bitch with a chip on his shoulder."

"Zoe doesn't seem to think so."

"Yeah, well Zoe's got issues."

"True, but you saw what happened. That fucker jumped David in our front yard and beat him to a pulp." Several of the others in the cafe nodded in agreement with Ricky.

Shiro took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He knew that Ricky and the others wanted to get some payback...hell, even he wanted to look for Dash Parr and dump his ass in the bay a few times, but this wasn't the time for that. "Look," he finally said, "we're not going to get involved at the moment." Though he was addressing Ricky, Shiro made sure everyone in the cafe heard him. "We stick to the jobs we're supposed to do and act none the wiser until Zoe makes her move."

"And then what?" asked someone else. "Ignore it?"

"No, that's when we all decide to take a group 'lunch' break and we all go for a 'take out' order."

"A take out order?"

"Yeah, we all go and TAKE this little shit OUT."

Pacifica Cove

North of Metroville, California

Ashley wasn't sure what to expect when she agreed to accompany Zoe on her visit to see the enigmatic Edna Mode. She had known of Mode's reputation as a reclusive and eccentric fashion designer, but she was unaware of Edna's reputation of being a suit designer for supers. That revelation caught her off guard. Then again, she realized, it shouldn't have been surprising especially when Zoe explained that Edna was already using a substance similar to Eufibre long before the Galatea incident and nova Anibal Cristobal-Buendia supposedly developed and marketed it.

"Edna is old school," Zoe explained as they entered the mansion's front door. "She was designing costumes for supers until the mid-80s when the ban went into effect."

"So how do you know her?" Ashley asked.

"She's a friend of my parents and…well…she had to design some specialized clothing for me when my powers first manifested." Zoe blushed slightly. "You see, it was before I could attune my powers so my clothes wouldn't wear out or disintegrate on me whenever I went super fast."

"Ah," Ashley said, nodding in understanding. "Just curious, how old were you when your powers kicked in?"

"Five," Zoe replied. "I remember that day very well. Mom had picked me up from school, went grocery shopping, and that was when I discovered something that changed my life forever."

"Well, suddenly having powers would change your life forever."

"No, I'm not talking about that." Zoe rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That's the day I had my first mocha."

That revelation made Ashley suddenly stop in her tracks. "Whoa, wait," she said. "Let me get this straight; your powers manifested the day you had your first mocha…and you were five?"

"Hey, Mom was too busy yapping on the phone to Dad about some dinner party while putting groceries away. She left her mocha on the counter and told me to stay put."

"You didn't stay put, did you?"

"Of course I did, I was waiting for her to pull out the bag of gummi bears she had bought me. I was trying to be good…honest." Zoe sounded sincere, but there was a mischievous gleam in her eye as she continued her story. "It's just that five minutes can seem like an eternity. Mom was still talking to Dad and putting groceries away, but she hadn't gotten to the gummi bears yet, so…being the curious and innocent little kid that I was, I saw her drink on the counter in front of me. I figured if my mom can drink it, it must be okay to take a sip and see why she drank so many of those."

"Uh-oh." Ashley could see where this was going and it was taking all her effort to not laugh as she imagined a five year old Zoe climbing onto the table where the mocha was sitting and drinking it. "What happened?"

Zoe smiled at her friend. "Chocolate-Coconutty-Carmel goodness," she said. "One sip, and I forgot about the gummi bears…then I took another sip…which became a gulp…and everything became a blur and I found myself finishing my mom's drink and then crying when I realized I was standing in the middle of some park a few miles away alone by myself."

Ashley felt a little sympathy as she imagined what that might have been like to suddenly have super-speed and blindly show up in the middle of some unknown place. She was about to say something when she heard someone clear their throat.

"What Little Zoe fails to tell," a heavily accented voice said, "is that she left Little Zoe-with-coffee cup shaped hole in wall of living room and a panic-stricken mother."

Ashley turned to face the direction of the voice, then looked down to see a short petite woman with black hair and oversized glasses looking up at her.

"Edna," Zoe began, stepping towards the short woman, "this is-"

Edna waved off Zoe's introduction. "Ashley Winthrop, also known as former XWF performer Boom Box," she said. "Facial recognition software identified you before you even passed through the gate. Hopefully we can come up with a suit that is not as atrocious as the one they had the hack Buendia create for you."

"Um, I'm not here for a suit," Ashley said, caught off by the woman's sudden shift from cold and aloof to a sort of 'cheerful snobbiness'.

"Nonsense daaahling! You can't come all this way and not get something for your troubles."

Ashley was about to say something, but was elbowed by Zoe who whispered, "Just go with it."

They followed the older woman down the hallway, through a lobby where a receptionist was sitting behind a desk. Ashley saw two other women sitting in comfortable leather chairs and reading magazines; one of them looked up and nodded at Ashley before going back to her magazine. It took her a moment, but Ashley recognized her as a well known supermodel.

"Is that-" she started to ask, but was cut off by Edna.

"Yes, dahling, it is," Edna said, "but you will forget you saw her here, yes? Many supermodels come here, though not as much since that hack Buendia showed up on the scene."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be." Edna laughed and shook her head before muttering, "Supermodels…bah! Nothing really super about them. However, if Buendia wants to cut into that business that is okay with me." Then the expression on her face darkened. "But if he cuts into my real business too much," she sneered, displaying teeth that looked like they belonged more to a shark than a diminutive middle-aged woman, "I will eat him alive." Then, just as suddenly, the dark mood vanished and the "cheerful snobby fashion designer" was back as she led the way down another hallway. "Come along, dahlings, we have much to do today and so very little time. Chop, chop."

The three of them continued down the hallway and Ashley noticed that there were several security cameras and other such smaller devices down the hallway. In the past, she never would have noticed such things; but after seeing some of the security measures at SST, she unconsciously found herself looking at decorations or photos on walls and checking to see if there was a cleverly concealed camera. This corridor alone had enough security measures that she wondered if this Edna Mode was more paranoid than David. She was suddenly broken out of her thoughts when their host stopped and held up an arm.

"Stay there for a moment, dahlings," Edna said as she stepped up to a retina scanner and then spoke into a tiny microphone. "Edna Mode." Suddenly a couple hidden compartments in the ceiling opened up and what appeared to be two ugly high-tech chainguns with laser-pointers swung down and locked onto Zoe and Ashley, the red laser dots locked on their foreheads. Ashley tensed up, shocked at this turn of events, but Zoe simply yawned. "And guests," Edna added.

The red lasers flickered to yellow, and then proceeded to go up and down the bodies of the two younger women. "Identifying," a cold metallic voice reverberated through the corridor. "Winthrop, Ashley…confirmed. Kilmarten, Zoe…confirmed." The lasers shifted to green before shutting off and the two chainguns withdrew back into the ceiling. Then the metallic voice returned, but it actually sounded…happy. "Welcome back, Little Zoe!"

"Dammit, I'm almost seventeen, for crying out loud!" Zoe yelled as the end of the corridor opened up.

"Stop whining, Little Zoe," Edna snapped as she entered her workshop and motioned for the two young women to follow her. "We have much work to do...so no whining!"

Somewhere off the California Coast

Buddy winced slightly as he felt the pain shoot up his right arm, his brain telling him that there was a searing pain being caused by the torch he was using on it, the kind of pain that would tell a man that flesh was probably being burned to a crisp right now and cause them to scream. However, this pain actually made Buddy smile. No, he wasn't a masochist (though, it also depended on what kind of pain and who was causing it that might change his mind), but the pain was a good thing. The pain informed him that he could now feel his right arm again and a simple, almost unconscious, thought allowed him to wiggle his fingers and rotate his right hand. It was an impressive feat, actually.

Especially since his right arm was currently lying on the small table, waiting to be attached to his body.

It took him three days to perfect this replacement for his lost arm, but it was worth it. The smooth polished chrome look, streamlined systems, improved power core, and interchangeable neural link made his previous two cybernetic arms look like antiques (though he did kind of miss the "steampunk" look of the arm he had in prison). After a few more adjustments, he sealed the panel in the chrome wrist in and leaned back to study his handiwork before letting out a low whistle.

"Oh baby, look at you," he said appreciatively. He sat there for a few seconds then picked the arm up off the table with his flesh and blood arm. "Okay, let's do this." The mechanical servos on his right shoulders whirred to life and opened up, exposing flashing circuitry and interface connections. "And," he said dramatically as he attached the arm, "let there be life!"

A second later he swore loudly as an electrical jolt shot through his body for a moment, then subsided. He stumbled for a moment as his body momentarily lost its equilibrium before stabilizing. "Shit," he said, "forgot about the shifting of balance part again." Then he smiled as he raised his right arm and curled his hand into a fist. "Oh yeah…much better now."

He looked over at the flat-screen television on the wall which was tuned into N!Channel. Curious, he grabbed the remote off the table and turned up the volume so he could hear what the reporter was saying.

"Relief efforts are still coming in from several international organizations with Utopia spearheading the efforts despite some minor conflicts with representatives of the SST contingent." The screen then showed still video images of Caestus Pax holding David Flynn by the front of his shirt. "Despite these setbacks," the reporter continued, "Project Utopia continues to oversee a good portion of the relief effort."

Buddy snickered at that, shaking his head in disbelief. He had seen the actual video footage that had been put out by the networks not affiliated with Project Utopia and he had to admit that he did feel a little pride as he watched his bastard "son" stand his ground against one of the most powerful beings on the planet without even breaking a sweat. He had the television then link up to the net where he browsed through various news sites where most of the stories talked about the "tragic incident" of Mexico City and the various stories of what really happened.

It was amusing actually, watching the assorted media place blame on various groups though most of the Utopia friendly networks and sites were making sure to point their fingers at the Teragen. In a way, Geryon showing up was a blessing, but Buddy couldn't help being a little offended that the nova terrorist was being given credit for his awesome display of power. However, he managed to push that anger aside, gently assuring his own ego that the world would burn and they would know who the man was holding the blowtorch and enjoying every minute of it.

He also enjoyed the luxuries this mega-yacht he had taken from the Nakato had to offer. Aside from having a helipad (which also served as a launching platform), it had a store room stocked full of goodies (like bastardized versions of his own technology) and a workshop. He also found at least ten million dollars in cash which he knew would come in handy. It was nice to have a mobile base of operations, especially one that he was able to rig with the latest ECM technology that pretty much rendered him invisible to all but "line-of-sight" detection. It was almost a shame that he was going to have to get rid of it soon, but sacrifices had to be made.

But until then, I might as well enjoy it.

He hit another button on the remote and the television switched to a digital music channel. After spending a few seconds scrolling through some selections, he found what he was looking for, highlighted the selection, and then turned up the volume. A few more seconds later, he was nodding his head in time to the beat as the heavy thrum of a bass guitar started to fill the air. With a smile, he grabbed one of the wrenches he had on the table and started singing a long to the song, pretending the wrench was a microphone.

"I can't seem to face up to the facts.
I'm tense and nervous and I... can't relax.
I can't sleep, cause my bed's on fire.
Don't touch me I'm a real live wire."

"Psycho Killer
Qu'est-ce que c'est?
fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa better
Run run run run run run run away
OH OH OH"

"Psycho Killer
Qu'est-ce que c'est?
fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa better
Run run run run run run run away
OH OH OH
AY AY AY AY AY WOO"

A digital chirping noise broke into his fun time and Buddy suddenly realized that the encrypted call he was expecting was now coming in.

"Oh shit," he said as he had the remote shut down the music and switched the screen over to his video call. He gave the screen a confident smirk as it divided into four separate windows, telling him that all four leaders of the Church of Michael wanted to talk to him. "Gentlemen," he greeted them, "I was starting to wonder if I would hear from you. It's been almost four days."

"We apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Gabriel," said Grand Deacon Micah Piper. His smile seemed genuine, but Buddy could tell from the malicious gleam in the eyes of that grandfatherly face that the old man was truly impressed. "There were some of us who were still skeptical of what you were claiming to do."

Buddy grinned and shrugged. "Well, I hate to toot my own horn, but I promised you something, and I did it."

"And exactly what was the purpose of this…this…incident?" asked Milo Arboghast. "And was killing that many people truly necessary?"

Buddy could tell from the expressions on the faces of the others that one of the others, Esteban Torano, felt the same way while Theobald Horton nodded in agreement to the question but failed to hide his jealousy behind an otherwise cold mask of neutraility. However, there was something about Arboghast that made Buddy feel a little wary.

What's up with this bastard? Something seems a little off with him.

"Well, Mr. Arboghast," he said, "the answer to your first question was basically an audition, proof that I was serious and what kind of technology I have at my disposal. As for killing that many people, let me ask you this: Now that someone has seriously stepped up and truly hurt Utopia, how many people do you think will be willing to side with them if they realize that Utopia can't protect them? How many of your people actually see hope at the fact that the 'devil's own' can be killed and that Utopia can be stopped? What has it done for overall morale for the cause?"

"What do you care about the cause?" Horton sneered. "You're not one of us."

"No," Buddy said, nodding in agreement, "but I share your dream. I believe that having a bunch of super-powered thugs and their wannabe one-world organization is wrong for the world and they have to be stopped." He then gave them a sad look, one that he had managed to master over the years. "Utopia, and the people behind it ruined me," he said, letting bitter venom fill his voice. "I was scientist, a baseline, but brilliant. I had created technology that was decades ahead of everyone else and THEY took it, imprisoned me, and forced me to work for them!"

He paused for a moment, his sadness now replaced by cold hatred which was actually genuine despite the fact that he was putting up a false front.

Well, not exactly false, but edited, revised, and tailor made to fit their sympathies.

"You're right, Mr. Horton. I may not be part of your little club, but I have been fighting them longer than you have. I have been imprisoned by them, tortured, and forced to watch as they benefited from my work. You want to fight the good fight for the good Lord, go right ahead. I have a personal score to settle with these people and I thought, that maybe, we could be allies since we share the same enemies." He paused again to let that sink in. "However, if you don't want my help and just simply bide your time until THEY come for you and your followers, then that's your choice."

There was silence for a few seconds and nobody said anything until, finally, Esteban Torano spoke up. "I mean no disrespect, Mr. Gabriel, but Brother Milo does bring up a valid point. What you did in San Francisco and Mexico City was impressive, but don't you think you went a little overboard for an 'audition'?"

"When fighting the enemy, Mr. Torano, there are no such things as 'going overboard' or 'overkill'. It's you or them. Given the stand of your organization and what you have accomplished, I thought you understood that." Buddy watched as the four men pondered his words. He could see that Torano was a little troubled by his response, but he was surprised to see an actual nod of agreement from Theobald Horton.

Man, he must really have a hate-on for novas if he's willing to agree with me. Torano seems a little squeamish…how the hell did he rise so high in this group?

"So, Mr. Arboghast," he said, "are you going to answer my questions?"

Before Arboghast could reply, Micah Piper spoke up. "Actually, Mr. Gabriel, your actions and rumors about you have raised the spirits of the congregation."

Buddy had to stifle a chuckle at Piper's comment, settling for another smirk. "And exactly how did they hear about me, Mr. Piper? I don't remember advertising."

Piper gave Buddy that annoying grandfatherly smile again. "As you implied, their spirits needed lifting, and I only told a few of them to be patient and wait. It wasn't until your actions in Mexico City that they have truly begun to believe."

"So, I take it that you've agreed to my proposal?"

Three of the four men nodded, though there was some reluctance on Torano's part, but Buddy let that slide. Instead, he focused on the one man who didn't nod. "I take it you object, Mr. Arboghast?"

"I go the way of the Inner Circle, Mr. Gabriel," the man replied. "I may not like it, but I refuse to divide their ranks. But I will be watching you closely."

"I see," Buddy said, noting that the challenge and threat had been thrown down. However, he decided there would be time for it later. "So, now that I'm in…is there anything I can do for you now?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Piper said, the malicious gleam still in his eyes, "how are you at public speaking?"