Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does. Don't own Incredibles, Brad Bird and Pixar does.
Author's Notes: Okay...this is going to be some weird shit over the next few chapters. We've hit the flashpoint and a lot of shit is going to start exploding. "No More Games" is where the explosions go off. I hope this turns out to be the crazy ride I'm planning it to be. As usual, thanks to everybody who has stuck with me (even the person in Russia who seems to hit this fic almost immediately whenever I update).
Also, I want to thank Randomguy for his annoying but catchy Goblin Bloggin' tune and for not threatening to kill me for ripping it off for the Bomber's Bay segment. If none of you have heard of itsjustsomerandomguy on Youtube, check him out. His videos are hilarious.
"The world was shocked only hours ago as rogue businessman and nova hacker, David Flynn, breached the firewalls protecting the computer networks of the UN General Assembly and released a list of names that were allegedly spies working for Project Utopia who worked for various government agencies as well as members of the armed forces. Though there has been no official comment from Director Laragione, a Utopia representative has assured that the accusations are false and that legal action is now pending against David Flynn and his asociates at SST."
-N!Channel News
"Almost two hours after a dramatic confrontation at the UN, government agencies around the world are scrambling to locate possible Utopia agents who had infiltrated their organization. There has been confirmation that evidence provided by David Flynn has been verified as authentic and one nova agent working with the United States Marine Corps has been arrested for conspiring to assassinate a high ranking General who opposed Utopia policies."
-Fox News
"Brandi Miller, former talk-show host and Utopia supporter, was found dead in her hotel room this morning. Though the cause of death has not been confirmed, evidence found at the scene indicates that heavy drug and alcohol use were involved. In other news today, City Councilman Lucius Best's approval ratings have risen, ranking him at forty-three percent in the polls against incumbent Sansweet's forty-four percent with thirteen percent undecided..."
-KMET News
Metroville, California
1500 HRS PST
Jefferson Kent was not having a good day. When he was appointed Director of International Operations for Project Utopia a couple weeks prior, he set about cleaning up the mess his predecessor had left behind. Granted, it wasn't very hard to clean up Lansing's mess because most of the personnel in International Operations knew their boss botched the job and went out of their way to make sure they were doing their jobs well enough to keep the new boss from coming down on them.
Not that it really mattered, Kent came down on them anyway, firing some of them, transferring others to lesser departments, all just to make the point that he was in charge and he was not going to screw things up like Lansing did. He also wanted to succeed where Lansing had apparently failed. He wanted to take down David Flynn but, unlike Lansing, he wasn't going to be an idiot and go after the kid guns blazing. He wanted to systematically destroy the little shit piece by piece.
So when the call came out that they were to take custody of the shooter who had tried to assassinate Flynn, Kent personally headed the task force sent to bring the man in knowing full well that it would piss Flynn (and that NSA vulture Richard Dicker) off to no end.
And it was beautiful too. Showing up right before Flynn did, preventing him from seeing the prisoner again or examining the Utopia equipment that was used in the alleged attack. Jefferson kept a smug grin in place the whole time but, inwardly, he was laughing maniacally at the fact that David Flynn, despite his posturing and parlor tricks, couldn't do a damn thing and neither could NSA's Dicker.
However, there was something about that final exchange that made him feel a little uneasy. He wasn't sure why, and he knew Flynn really couldn't do anything, but a tiny part of him was wondering if the little shit might try something. This time, Utopia had their asses covered and there was no way Flynn could mess with them…at least that's what Kent kept telling himself. By the time they had loaded Brian Paladino into the armored transport and he was pumped up on enough 'mox to prevent him from using his powers, Kent had dismissed Flynn as a threat and had his crew head over to their next destination.
When they arrived at the Metroville Police Department, however, Kent got his first true taste of what it was like to deal with David Flynn. They had just cleared the gate leading to the detention center, where they were to take the nova mercenary Bomber into custody, when everyone's cell-phone went off, alerting them that something major happened. After a phone call from one of his panicked subordinates, Kent turned on the radio in hopes to get a news broadcast.
What he heard had him swearing uncontrollably. Apparently, Flynn had hacked Utopia and released almost two dozen names of Utopia operatives that had infiltrated various military and law enforcement organizations around the world. After checking in with his superiors at the Aeon Society, Kent silently promised himself that he would be part of the team that would tear David Flynn's little corporate empire apart and ship that sorry little bastard and his band off to the facility in Bahrain.
How can this little shit be so much trouble?
In hindsight, however, Kent had to admit he had underestimated Flynn despite the warnings he received from his associates within the Proteus Council. He couldn't believe that Thetis would let something like this run loose in the world. But, alas, he was not a member of the Council leadership. He was merely a soldier following orders. So he shoved aside the latest incident involving Flynn and focused on his current objective, picking up the nova mercenary called Bomber from the Metroville Police Department. A half hour after their arrival, they finished the final preparations for the prisoner transfer.
Though he noted that there seemed to be a sense of relief on the faces of most of the police officers there, Kent noticed some veiled hostility as well. While the local police were happy about Bomber being taken off their hands, it was clear they didn't like Utopia's presence. After dealing with one annoying Detective Daniel O'Reilly (whose career Kent intended on destroying once he got back in his office at New York), Bomber was led out, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, manacles, and ankle chains.
However, for someone who was being transferred to a high-security facility, Jean-Paul Renard appeared very cheerful. When he saw Kent, his lips broke into a grin and he nodded. "Hi there," he said, almost as if he were talking about the weather. "You must be the foul and vile One-World Order guys come to whisk off to some dark place."
Kent heard some snickers and stifled laughter from some of the nearby police officers, but he ignored them. After all, they were just local law enforcement, not really important. "Cute, Mr. Renard," he said as he stepped in front of the prisoner to look him in the eye, "too bad it won't play well where you're going."
Renard rolled his eyes. "Let me guess," he said, "you're going to put me in some dark hole in a certain middle-eastern country at an installation that you publicly deny exists, right?"
Kent smiled coldly at the nova mercenary. "Pretty much," he replied. "I will enjoy interrogating you and breaking you."
"Sorry, but I don't do S&M sessions with guys," Renard said, causing some more police officers to laugh. "I mean, I know I'm French Canadian, but I really don't fit the stereotype."
"Shut it, Renard," grumbled Stalwart who was standing a few feet behind Kent. "Or I'll break your jaw."
"Yeah, right, beat the hell out of a guy while he's tied up." Renard's eyes narrowed and his grin became a cold and calculating sneer. "Then again, that's about your speed. You, Gravity, and some Utopia team tried to kidnap some teenage girl not too long ago and, before that, you killed that kid for not wanting to join up."
"You son of a bitch!" Stalwart started to move forward, but Kent held up his hand, signaling the larger nova to stop.
"Don't do it," Kent said, "he's trying to rile you up and start a fight to cause confusion so he can attempt to escape."
"Awww, damn," Renard groaned, "and I would have gotten away with it to if it weren't for you meddling bureaucrats and your stupid dog." He then leaned forward, lowering his voice a little. "You did remember to have Stalwart taken in and fixed, right?"
Kent glared Renard for a moment; then he addressed the guards flanking him. "Get that piece of trash on the transport," he said. "If he tries anything, shoot him repeatedly until he stops moving. When he starts moving again, resume shooting."
"So he's officially your problem, then?" asked Detective O'Reilly as the guards escorted Renard into the armored transport.
"Yes, Detective, he is now officially our problem and you can go about your business."
"Wow," O'Reilly snorted, "you Utopia types really are that stuck up and arrogant."
"Careful, Detective," Kent warned the man, "I can have you demoted to a beat cop within twelve hours."
"Oh, I'm sure you can," O'Reilly fired back, "but you seem to be forgetting one thing."
"And what might that be, Detective? Please wow me with your skills of observation and deduction."
"Two things, actually," the Detective said, gesturing at the transport. "First, Bomber there could have killed me and my men at any time and made his escape."
"I think you're exaggerating his abilities, Detective. I am well aware of what Renard is capable of."
O'Reilly shrugged. "Okay, if you're certain of it, then maybe I'm wrong about the second thing."
"And what, pray tell, was the second thing?"
O'Reilly met Kent's condescending smile with a predatory grin of his own. "Bomber may have a problem killing cops, but I don't think he feels the same way about you Utopia people." He shrugged as he watched the smile fade a little on Kent's face. "Just something to think about," he said. "After all, if he can face off against someone like Totentanz, do you really think this little security detail and your two second-string novas will stop him?"
"That will be all, Detective," Jefferson snapped. He turned and walked back to the front cab of the transport. As he climbed into the passenger side, he saw Detective O'Reilly waving at him, a smug grin on his face.
Oh yes, Kent thought, I am looking forward to destroying your career when I get home.
But first, he had to assess what kind of damage Flynn had done with his latest hack. Already, various news networks were pushing the story and key politicians from various nations were demanding an investigation into Utopia's activities. He looked over at the driver and nodded. "Take us straight to the airport," he said, "the sooner we get rid of these two bastards, the better."
"Yes sir."
Jean-Paul Renard smiled as he sat down on the bench on one side of the transport, acting oblivious to the two heavily guards sitting on either side of him. It wouldn't take much to take out the guards, but they were a secondary concern. Even though the Utopian officials dosed him with the power-dampening cocktail known a 'mox, Bomber knew his body had already burned it off by the time he stepped onto the transport.
He could have escaped at anytime, actually; but after learning he was going to be picked up by the same transport carrying the guy that shot Violet, Jean decided to hold off on the escape as he confronted the shooter and, hopefully, beat the man to the death with whatever tools were available. So when he sat down, he gave the man sitting across from him flanked by two guards of his own a smile.
"Hi," he said, "I'm Bomber."
"Shut up, Renard," snapped one of the guards.
Jean rolled his eyes before looking back at the man who stared at him with cold dead eyes.
"I know who you are," the other prisoner replied. "At least I know they're taking some pathetic piece of trash like you in as well."
"Can it, Paladino," one of the other guards said.
"Paladino," Jean repeated the name. He recognized that name. "Where have I heard that name before...Paladino...Paladino...oh yeah!" He nodded as he remembered it. "Simon Paladino...Gazerbeam...you must be one of his brats." He chuckled as he saw the other man's eyes narrow at the mention of the dead hero's name. "Your father...he was a good man...what happened to you?"
"Shut up," the Paladino kid snapped, "or I'll-"
"You'll what," Jean snorted, cutting him off, "kill me?" He shook his head. "Not gonna' happen, poser. And I'll give you a few reasons. One, we're surrounded by several Utopia guards. Two, we're both doped up on enough 'mox to shut down our powers. Three, we have two Utopia novas in vehicles escorting us who can take us down...or believe they can take me down. And finally, the most important reason you're not going to kill me," Jean gave Paladino an evil grin, "I'm not some defenseless hot twenty year old babe you can pick off with a sniper rifle."
"That's enough, Renard." One of the guards raised his weapon.
Jean ignored the threat and focused on Paladino whose face was starting to turn red.
Really doesn't take much to set this guy off, does it? Good.
"So, what's the deal, boy?" Jean asked. "You woke up one morning and decided, 'Hey, I think I'll shoot some hot babe for shits and grins because I feel like destroying her promising life and hurting her family'."
"Renard!" The guard next to Jean had his pistol out and pointed it at his chest. "I'm warning you...knock if off."
"I wasn't aiming for her!"
"Chill, Paladino!" warned another guard.
Jean smiled, he knew he had the other man at his breaking point. "Oh, you weren't," he said, "guess that's another reason you won't kill me...your aim sucks. Shot an innocent girl instead of your target."
"FUCK YOU!" Paladino screamed and lunged forward, causing all the guards to train their weapons on him.
Jean took the moment to act and swung his manacled hands up, planning to catch the guard right in the face plate. Then the world seemed to explode around him as everything seemed to be thrown upside down.
(*Screen flickers to reveal the customized Bomber figure, this time wearing an orange prison jumpsuit dancing across the screen via stop-motion animation while the terrible voice that sounds like someone has been gargling razor blades begins to sing*)
"Where in the world has Bomber gone and when in holy hell will there be another blog?"
(*screen suddenly flickers back out before cutting to a live video stream showing a familiar young man with dark hair grinning at the camera. He's apparently standing on top of a high-rise building*)
"Hey everybody, it's me again. Nick aka Slapstick…Bomber's best friend, occasional enemy, rival, and bowling teammate. And welcome to a special edition of Bomber's Bay. I'm sure most of you people have been following the news and noticed that Jean recently became a guest of the Metroville Police Department after he apparently stumbled into a bank robbery being carried out by novas. Don't know who those bastards are, but I understand he did kill one of them who was identified as the nova monster called 'Gator' who supposedly had a reputation of killing cops."
*Screen briefly cuts to a picture of Gator with the caption "COPKILLER!" at the base of the picture along with the Godzilla roar in the background*
"However, according to various reports, Gator was taken out via crotch-bombing. So…Gator…rest in pieces."
*cuts to a picture showing pictures of alligator skin boots, bags, and gloves. Then it cuts back to Slapstick*
"Anyway…Gator's dead, the cops arrested Jean, and now it looks like Utopia has come to take him into custody."
*Cuts to show the Utopia logo and the Imperial Death March theme from Star Wars begins to play for a couple seconds before cutting back to Slapstick again who is now holding the camera in his hand, but still looking into it.*
"Now…as you know, I'm a mercenary, as is Jean. Some of us Elites don't mind killing…hell, it's expected. However, people like Jean, he only kills when he has to and isn't big in the whole assassination thing. Me, I'll kill my own grandmother if someone offered me enough money."
*cuts to show a cartoon caricature of a mean old lady with a shot gun in one hand and a cane in the other with the caption "Slapstick's Grandmother" at the bottom of the picture (along with the Godzilla roar in the background). Cuts back to Slapstick involuntarily shuddering*
"She was evil…evil…she made me run with the pitbulls, telling me it was the best way to lose weight…running for my life…a chubby seven year old covered in barbecue sauce, made to run from one end of the yard to the other…"
*He suddenly shakes his head, snapping out of his self-inflicted flash back*
"Okay…bad memory. Anyway…back to the current matter at hand. As I was saying, Jean and I have different approaches to killing but both of us, well…him mostly, try to avoid killing local cops. After all, these guys gotta' have balls to go out in today's world to go after criminals with shitty gear and receive an even shittier paycheck. That takes guts man…and a lot of stupidity…but still, it takes guts. Jean prefers not to kill cops. Me, I don't mind killing cops, but if you kill too many, ALL the brothers in blue will band together around the country and even across a few international borders. In small doses, they're a joke, but you never know what kind of ordinance they might be able to get access to if you piss them off enough. One heavy SMG with a grenade launcher is no big deal. But get surrounded by fifty heavy SMGs with AP rounds and grenade launchers getting you all at once…nova or not, there's a good chance you won't be coming back from that."
(*Briefly cuts to footage of the nova known as Mauler getting gunned down by a SWAT team…and then nailed with several flame throwers before several grenades are thrown in, blowing up the nova*)
"And for the record, recovering from napalm burns fucking sucks! So…yeah, killing cops is definitely not on the 'to do' list…unless it's those corrupt bastards in Rio, but that's another story."
(*Camera shifts angles as Slapstick moves out of the picture and mounts the camera on something…then the caption "Slapstick's Shoulder Cam" briefly flashes across the screen*)
"As you can see, we have the Utopia transport off in the distance leaving the local police department. They have their little escort vehicles, a few black SUVs with tinted windows…how much you wanna' bet that the transports are using alternative fuel sources? Oh…sorry…getting off track here. Anyway…I'm going to take this rocket launcher here…"
*camera pans over as Slapstick's arms pick up a rocket launcher which is then pointed in the direction of the small caravan of vehicles*
"And then we line it up…like so…and I take a soft breath and slowly exhale as I prepare to revel in the explosion and slaughter….and then I pull the tri- "
*A beam of light hits the side of the lead SUV, slicing it in half before igniting the fuel lines, causing an explosion. Slapstick lowers the rocket launcher which he hasn't fired yet*
"Uh…what…the…fuck?"
*The prison transport is suddenly thrown up in the air by an invisible force, flipping upside down before it goes crashing into the the side of an office building.*
"No...seriously, what the fuck just happened?"
