Disclaimer: Don't own Incredibles or Aberrant. Pixar and White Wolf do.

Author's Notes: For the record, the term "Terats" is slang in Aberrant when people talk about members of the Teragen. As always, reviews are welcome.

Oh...and the opening blurb at this chapter is from the Aberrant Sourcebook. For those of you who are familiar with Aberrant, yeah I tweaked some of the characters a little, but not too much I hope. I think I might have misspelled some of the names...if I did, I will correct that.

Novas-Only Club Draws Fire From Local Scenesters:

When entrepreneusse Travius Diaz designed her latest night-spot for the beautiful people, she had a specific group of beautiful people in mind: novas. A strict novas-only policy at the glamourous Amp Room (with one exception made for hostess Diaz herself) ensures that only the superpowerful get in, and the mundane remain without.

"This isn't bigotry," Diaz claims, despite no intimation of the journalist to that effect. "Novas prefer each other's company. That's what led me to my decision for the novas-only club. Recent research into the sociology of novas indicates that their bio-chemistries cause sympathetic reactions in other novas. They may fight and feud on N!, but on a basic nova level, they really do share a vibe."

Diaz' theory seems to have more than a grain of truth to it, if her cover charges and refreshment prices are any indicator. The price to pass from the street to the door is f60 and the price of a signature "Amp Well" (a drink consisting of fruit juices, coca extract and dubious other ingredients, rumoured to include adrenaline from human glands and ketamine dosages fatal to baselines). On a special night, the club sees as many as 300 nova guests

and mixes as many as 2,000 Amp Wells.

Local nightlife veterans are outraged, however. Ranging from the usual cries of prejudice to the more rare legal actions (which Diaz has already employed a full-time solicitor to handle), local patrons want access.

"It's ridiculous not to let us in. Parties make lbiza what it is, and the professional partiers should be allowed to enter." So says Nero Krauss, a German transient who washed up on Ibiza's beach with 10 quid in his pocket and half an eight-ball of cocaine in his brain. As part of Ibiza's insolvent population of starstruck, unemployed clubgoers-by-trade, Nero's statement echoes through the ranks of the youth.

Diaz has no sympathy. "These Eurotrash drifters, they want to get in, but all they do is upset the clientele. I vacationed in lbiza 12 years ago, and all the clubgoers snubbed the visiting middle-class continental men, calling them 'lager louts.' Now that the same thing's happening to them, they're up in arms about it."

Don't expect anything to change, either. Among the jet-setting novas who attend the Amp Room - many of whom travel to lbiza for one or two nights solely to visit the club - are noted Indian movie producer Deepak Palit, American elite Sarge In-Charge, radical Teragen aristocrat Raoul Orzaiz and even high-society celebs like Amanda Wu. According to all of these and more, novas enjoy the policy. "We're very public figures, and this gives us a place to be private," says supermodel Lydia Divine. (Needless to say, the Amp Room bears a constant wreath of paparazzi.)

"I've got 1000-plus enormously famous and fabulous personalities to deal with nightly, all of whom require individual attention," claims Diaz. "My policy is no more restrictive than - and just as appropriate to my patrons as - a dress code."

-Article from "The Londoner Abroad" September 2006

4 November

Houston, Texas

1700 Hrs

Buddy looked down from the top of the office building he and his crew were on and took a moment to enjoy the view it offered of the greater Houston area.

Damn, he thought, they really do think bigger in Texas.

His gaze swept over the various other buildings and focused on the monolithic skyscraper sporting the Project Utopia and Triton Foundation logos and shook his head.

"Oh yeah," he chuckled, "someone's definitely compensating for something." He then turned to look at his seven man crew who were dressed up as city utility workers. "Gentlemen," he said, "it's about five o'clock, how are we doing on the 'emergency'?"

The young man called Ryder flashed him a grin. "Just finishing up here, sir; cameras are in location and ready to go online."

"Good," Buddy said as he adjusted the hard-hat he was wearing and returned to staring out at the city. "Once we get the cameras online, we can get a good view of the area while the raid goes down."

He couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction at carrying out this minor action without Horton's interference. In fact, Horton thought it was a valid plan and even had his people assist in creating 'an emergency', buy targeting key power substations that linked to four office buildings in the Houston area. Buddy and his crew, disguised as city workers, showed up at the buildings and helped "fix" the problems, the whole time talking about the 'overtime' they were collecting at the city's expense or complaining about how they're missing valuable weekend time off. All the rent-a-cops working the buildings understood or sympathized with what they mistook as blue collar workers being dragged in to work on their weekends off.

The rent-a-cops saw no need to suspect these workers. They didn't realize that the 'workers' were actually members of the Church of Michael Archangel and had intentionally caused the power-outages so they could get access to the buildings and install remote cameras.

Then again, the Michaelites didn't realize that the cameras were not meant for surveillance as 'Brother Gabriel' claimed. Oh, sure, they would initially be used for that and feed information to Horton and his team while they caused havoc on the ground, but Buddy didn't tell them the reason they were there.

The cameras were to record what would happen once the novas inevitably showed up to stop the rampaging DAV and stop the 'evil fanatics'. All Buddy had to do was wait until some nova got the bright idea of just blasting away at the DAV's power supply and then…well…Horton and his people will have died for the cause and the public would be horrified by the devastation caused by a nova's carelessness.

And with various elections coming up this next week, it will be interesting to see what kind of actions the people will take. Remember, remember, the fifth of November indeed.

Buddy smiled at that thought as the crew finished up their installation and began to pack up their gear. "Well, my friends," he said, "job well done and right on time…so who's up for a beer and some steaks?"

This got some positive murmurs of a agreement from the crew who packed up faster, but one of them seemed a little apprehensive and, like Buddy, was looking at the target off in the distance.

"I don't like it," Ryder said. "Someone should be topside to make sure Horton and his cowboys don't blow the mission."

"And you heard what Brother Horton said," Buddy said, putting mock emphasis on the word 'Brother', "he believes he can handle the assault, then let him handle the assault. It's not our responsibility." He then stepped forward and put a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder. "Look, kid," he tried to make his tone as serious as possible as he spoke, "I know you were originally part of Horton's crew, but let's face the facts here; unlike them, you have a brain and you tend to use it. However, when dealing with people like Horton, very little thought is required. They want to shoot up the place, let them; they're just a diversion anyway."

"And if they get captured, they could be a liability," Ryder countered. Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Get me up here somewhere and I can take some of his team out from long range if they get compromised."

Buddy looked the young man in the eyes for a moment and hesitated. There was something in Ryder's expression that made him briefly consider putting the kid out there, not because he doubted Ryder's words. It was quite the opposite, actually; Buddy was certain that Ryder would willingly kill his own people if they were in danger of being captured and probably wouldn't feel any remorse over it.

This little punk is a cold blooded killer…if only I had him on my staff ten years ago. He could become a liability himself, but having an efficient killer in my crew outweighs the risk.

"Listen, Ryder," Buddy finally said. "Horton and crew will be dealt with; trust me on that, okay?" He then gave the young man a sly grin. "Besides, given what I've done recently, do you really think I'm going to let some middle-aged yahoo with delusions of grandeur ruin our plans?"

"When you put it that way, sir; no, but I still don't trust the man."

Buddy had to laugh at that. "Ah, kiddo," he said as they followed the rest of the crew back into the building and towards a waiting elevator. "Paranoia at your age isn't something you should acquire."

"It's kept me alive, so far, sir."

"Touché, my friend, touché…now, let's go get some grub."

4 November

Amp Room Night Club

Ibiza, Spain

2300 Hrs

Located in a town known for its constant party atmosphere and non-stop nightclubs on the international party circuit, the Amp Room stood out among them all. Then again, being a club that had a novas only policy, it tended to attract the elite of uber-rich and powerful novas around the world. Of course, some people objected to the exclusive policy of the establishment, but that merely made it more popular. The building was almost constantly surrounded by paparazzi and baselines who wanted to get a look at the novas that frequented the club.

When the limousine transporting Count Raoul Orzaiz pulled up to the curb, a swarm of camera flashes and entertainment reporters greeted the Count as he exited the vehicle. He took a moment to bask in the wave of enthusiasm that rippled through the crowd, generated just by the fact that he had shown up. Then he nodded and smiled at the various onlookers as he made his way towards the club entrance, pausing a couple times to shake hands with various people.

"Count Orzaiz," he heard someone say; he wasn't sure, but he was certain it was either an entertainment reporter for N!Channel or ET. "Is it true that you're still funding the relief effort down in Mexico?"

That question surprised him. He hadn't planned on the reporters asking him that question here. Most of the time, it was shallow things, such as who was he currently dating, what did he think of the latest movies coming out, or some other trivial matter.

But things have happened in the last couple months, he reminded himself, things that have changed and shaken an already unstable world.

"Of course it's true," Raoul replied, looking directly at the reporter. "There are some who claim that it was merely a photo-op or publicity stunt on the parts of David Flynn or myself, but those claims are worthless. While we of the Teragen and David Flynn do not share the views of some of those people who make such accusations, we all understand the serious and horrific tragedy that devastated that city and we are not without compassion."

"When you say 'those people', are you referring to Utopia or baselines as a whole?"

Now that's definitely an antagonistic question.

"I doubt baseline humans were untouched by the horrors of Mexico City," he replied, focusing on the reporter who slightly flinched. "Humans and novas were all horrified at what happened there, any being with a sense of compassion would. I just find it interesting that those who promote themselves as 'champions for all humanity' were so slow in responding to the tragedy."

"So you're talking about Utopia, aren't you?"

Instead of answering, Raoul smiled. "I apologize for being so abrupt," he said, "but I have important business to attend to. However, I will be back out in a few hours time and I will answer more of your questions then."

He then proceeded to enter the club, ignoring the rest of the reporters as they tried to shower them with questions. Once inside, he nodded at one of the security men as he slipped them a couple hundred Euro. "I take it they are expecting me," he said.

"Suite 17," the security guard replied, "they are waiting."

Raoul thanked the man and headed up a staircase that took him to the second level of the club where there were several staterooms that could be used for private parties or business meetings. Part of him preferred to have this meeting held at Castle Orzaiz, but had decided it was out of the question given which Teragen faction leaders were going to be at this meeting. With the absence of Mal, Geryon, and Shrapnel from the meeting, Roaoul was certain that this meeting would be more about drama than actual business.

With those three gone, certain members of the various factions might see this as a gap in the power structure and try to increase their influence. I hope Jeremiah and Pedro can see that.

He managed to conjure up a smile as he opened the door to Suite 17 and entered the room. "Good evening, my friends," he said, "I apologize for my lateness." He then took a seat at the far end of the table where he noticed Leviathan was also sitting along with the glowing avatar form of Synapse. Glancing along the table, he noted that the various novas had sort of clustered together in separate groups.

This is not good. With three major players gone, the others want to establish their positions in the pecking order, causing more anger and division among the ranks.

Jeremiah Scripture stood at the head of the table, giving a nod to Raoul as he sat down. To Jeremiah's right sat Pedro Santiago and Marcel Deloremeir sat opposite on the left. It took most of Raoul's effort to keep the disdain from showing on his face.

Of course 'Apostle' would show up when Mal or Geryon is not around, he thought to himself. While Marcel openly showed blind fanaticism to Mal, Raoul didn't trust the man. He knew that Marcel, who went by the name 'Apostle', had his own agenda and was doing his best to undermine others so he could rise within the leadership.

It's only a matter of time before this man shows his true colors. Raoul momentarily glanced back at Scripture. I hope you're watching your back, Jeremiah. Without Mal here, Marcel believes you weak and may try to replace you.

Seated next to Marcel was Barry Winningham, a super-strong nova who called himself "The Confederate". This time, Raoul didn't bother hiding his disgust when he studied the man, just like Winningham didn't bother hiding his disgust when dealing with certain members of the Teragen.

A former white supremacist given the gift of being a nova, and he wants to divide our ranks even more by separating his 'Primacy' from those he sees as 'impure' or 'tainted'. He must be upset that Allison is out of his reach of influence since she agreed to look for Geryon.

His gaze then dropped on a young woman sitting opposite of Marcel and Winningham, the mysterious woman known only as Narcosis.

Narcosis is here as well…interesting. If the head of the self-named 'Pandemonium' faction is here, she must sense a profitable angle to this meeting.

Despite his anger toward Marcel and Winningham, Raoul held no enmity for Narcosis. In fact, it was because of her commercial endeavors that a good portion of the general public held a favorable view of the Teragen or, at the very least, tolerated them. While some like Winningham or Marcel would scoff at Pandemonia Productions selling licensed Teragen merchandise, it did funnel a lot of money into the organization…legitimate money.

The final member of the gathering was a man named Altiz Zia, who looked more like a doctor than a radical nova activist.

I wonder how many people actually believe the façade you put up, Doctor Zia.

While Raoul had not dealt with the man directly, he knew of Zia's reputation and seen the man's handiwork. Altiz Zia was a brilliant scientist, but Raoul questioned the man's sanity and lack of ethics.

It's one thing to do terrible things for the cause if you believe it to be just, but it's completely different when you get off on it.

Zia noticed Raoul looking in his direction and nodded in polite acknowledgment. Raoul returned the nod, but that didn't stop the bitter taste of bile he felt at the back of his throat.

If you weren't so important to the cause, Doctor, I would have killed you by now. Your ethics are just one level above that of Doctor Mengele and that alone makes me wary of you.

At the head of the table, Scripture cleared his throat, signaling the meeting was about to begin. "Thank you all for coming," he said, "given what's happened over the last week, I think you can guess why you're all here."

"Bake sale?" Synapse cheerfully offered.

"Silence, you fool!" Marcel snapped.

Synapse responded by flipping off Marcel, which got a mild chuckle from Leviathan.

"That's enough, you two," Raoul said, though he didn't hide his own amusement.

"As you are all aware," Scripture continued, "there was an assassination attempt on David Flynn and, a day later, an incident at CTV studios in Ottawa which was a pathetic attempt to implicate us. However, the general public is starting to question the validity of that claim since David Flynn recently dumped a list of covert Utopia agents that had successfully infiltrated key agencies and organizations of various nations."

"Maybe so, but it hasn't stopped the new people in charge at CTV from painting us in a bad light," rumbled Leviathan. "At least the old man who ran things previously had given us the benefit of a doubt."

"Agreed," Raoul said. "I have had the privilege of being interviewed by the man and I can assure you that the man comes from an era when integrity and honor meant something in his profession."

"Wow, he really is a dinosaur," Synapse quipped.

"Maybe, Synapse but, at the very least, he was a powerful dinosaur that was an ally." Raoul looked back at Scripture. "How is he doing?"

"According to reports, his condition has stabilized," Scripture replied. "However, his successors wasted no time in turning their news outlet against us and we have confirmed that Sandra Raldo is on Utopia's payroll."

"Pretty damn convenient that this 'attack' happens on the day they were going to put up a scathing prime-time news story that would have shown Utopia's true colors." Leviathan shook his massive head and let out a snort of disgust. "Any word on the report they were going to air?"

"According to Sandra Raldo, they lost it in the explosion. Apparently, one of their data hubs was taken out in the explosion."

"Oh, of course," Synapse snapped. "Given the fact their main data hub there wasn't nowhere near the site of the explosion I can tell you that story is bullshit. It was fucking purged, plain and simple."

"Do you have a copy of the report?"

Synapse shook his head. "Mostly snippets and raw footage," he replied. "Robertson and Richards were going to do a live interview to provide commentary for most of it."

"Then that is very telling in and of itself," Raoul said. "Robertson and his crew must have had some pretty damning evidence of something if Utopia was willing to go that far to quash a story and frame us."

"Who cares?" This came from Winningham. "Baselines being killed by baselines…so what? CTV would have turned on us eventually."

"Robertson wouldn't have," Synapse countered. "According to what I've heard about the man, he was fucking 'old testament' when it came to news. And you saw his reports, Confederate, he gave us a fair shake. Hell, look how many times has he had the Count here appear in his broadcasts."

"That's because Orzaiz here isn't all in with the movement. He's too busy hanging out with the baseline monkeys that they forget he's a nova."

Raoul shook his head and chuckled softly at Winningham. "You're a very brave man, Confederate," he said. "Or perhaps you seem to have forgotten I'm in the room here with you."

"Oh, I know you're here, Count, and I'm not afraid to speak the truth."

Raoul tilted his head slightly to the side and he could sense Leviathan, Zia, Santiago, and even Synapse tense a little. "Careful, little man," he warned Winningham. "I may play the high-society playboy to the public but, if you wish to make this personal, I will be more than willing to make sure that this will be the last Teragen meeting you will attend."

"What, you're going to toss me out of the group?" Winningham laughed, shaking his head. "I don't think so." Then he noticed the serious looks on the other members' faces and realized that the Count was now coldly staring at him the way a snake looked at a field mouse.

Before the Count could say anything, Scripture spoke up. "That's enough; Winningham, Count, you know that this infighting will not help our cause."

Raoul nodded in agreement. "Of course you are right, Jeremiah," he said, "I apologize for my actions."

"Very well then," Scripture continued, "let's talk about the situation with David Flynn and his people."

"A poser if there ever was one," Winningham sneered.

"You really think so?" Synapse asked. "Because, for someone who's not officially with us, he's done more for the cause in the last month alone than you have in the last year or two you've been with the group."

"Synapse is right," Marcel said, cutting off Winningham's response. "Flynn has proven to a valuable ally though he does not support our cause."

Raoul's eyes narrowed at Marcel's calm response. What's your game, Marcel?

"Perhaps we should change that," Marcel continued, "maybe invite him to join us."

Ah…so there it is. You think you're going to add another pawn to your arsenal…somehow I don't think Flynn will play your game, Marcel.

"Um, I hate to break it to you, Apostle; but I don't think Flynn's much of a joiner," Synapse said. "He's got his own plans and, from what I saw of them, I think we're better off not messing with them."

Everyone turned to look at Synapse.

"What do you mean?" asked Narcosis as she brushed some locks of her blond hair out of her face. Then the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You were able to break into his network, haven't you?"

"Sort of," Synapse said, his eyes flashing brightly for a moment before they returned to their normal glow. "As I said in the last meeting, he was gathering a lot of data, some of it was medical and relating to shutting down an MR node in a nova."

Winningham slammed his fist on the table. "So that's the bastard's game, huh? Shutting down our powers!"

"Chill out, moron," Synapse snapped. "Scripture was right, Flynn's research has nothing-"

"What else did you find, Synapse?" Scripture asked, interrupting Synapse.

"Um…like I was saying some of Flynn's research involved-"

"Mal and I are aware of that situation, Synapse." The look Scripture gave the younger nova, along with the slight tone of warning in his voice, made it clear that Synapse should not talk about that subject. "What else have you uncovered?"

"Well, the easily decrypted stuff dealt with his company's new game system which, by the way, I'm getting a free one and a year's subscription for saving his ass the other day."

"Dude, so not fair," Leviathan said.

"Don't worry, big guy," Synapse chuckled, "I'll be thinking of you and your misery while I play all those games."

"Back to the discussion at hand please," Scripture said, rolling his eyes, though the ghost of a smile did flash across his face.

"Well, as you know, if you paid attention to some of the minor news out there, SST quietly purchased the old Biosphere 2 project in Arizona and has quietly sent a team to check it out with the intention of repairing it, upgrading it, and getting it in working order. He's also been in contact with various private engineering firms and even a couple people from NASA and the Russian Space Agency."

Now THAT got Raoul's interest. "Synapse," he said, "are you saying that Flynn is making preparations for some sort of evacuation plan?"

"Similar to some of the plans we had discussed in the past," Synapse replied, "except Flynn's obviously already in the early stages of it and moving rapidly. He's also been in contact with a government agency and fighting to legally regain hold of some small island his father's company owned until the NSA confiscated it eight years ago along with most of Pine Industries assets."

"What's the big deal about some little island?" Winningham asked.

Synpase shook his head. "Beats me, but the NSA has had patrols on it ever since. Mostly lowtech stuff, communications and such, and even that doesn't say much. Other than that, the island is pretty much dead technologically. However, given what I gathered from the limited communiqués I intercepted, Pine Industries had some massive tech stuff going on over there and it scared the hell out of the NSA. And, for the record, don't even think of going there. They've got hardware that can take down novas and they hired a few Elite grade novas there to assist."

"And Flynn wants to take this island back," Raoul said thoughtfully, "it's starting to make sense then."

"What, he's going to make himself out to be some wannabe James Bond villain?" Winningham laughed. However, he stopped laughing when he saw the serious look on the faces of Scripture and Santiago. "Wait, you are joking, right?"

"Flynn hardly fits that kind of profile," Marcel said. "If we bring him into the fold, he could do much for us."

"Not gonna' happen," Synapse countered. "Like I said, he's got his own agenda. We try to force him to sign on, he'll piss on us."

Winningham laughed again. "You sound afraid of him, little man. Could it be that you fear him?"

"Dude, have you not been paying attention to what's happened lately? He's at fucking war with Utopia. I'm not sure what the whole story is there, but I can tell you that he has a severe hate-on for them and the feeling is mutual. If that only makes him an ally of convenience, I'm more than willing to live with that." Synapse then addressed everyone sitting at the table. "Trust me when I say this, people; you do not…no wait, let me put it in 'all capitals' here…YOU…DO…NOT…want to piss this guy off, especially with the recent attempts on his life."

Raoul studied the reactions of the others to Synapse's comment. Winningham still looked like he didn't believe what he was being told, Narcosis appeared skeptical but Raoul could see the woman was mentally contemplating the possibility that Synapse was telling the truth. Leviathan, Santiago, and Scripture appeared to share Synapse's sentiment while Zia kept his expression neutral and unreadable, but it was Marcel's reaction that bothered Raoul the most.

Instead of bristling at Synapse's remarks, Marcel once again appeared lost in thought. He appeared to heed Synapse's warning, but the look in his eyes told Raoul that the man was clearly planning something. "Well," Marcel said after a couple moments, "I suppose we should consider alternative actions to take."

"HELLO! Did you not hear what I just said?"

"Oh, I heard you, Synapse," Marcel calmly replied. "But by your own admission, Flynn has his own agenda and is an 'ally of convenience'. Eventually, and regrettably, things may very well become 'inconvenient' and it would be best to our benefit to have contingency plans in place if and when that time comes."

"Reluctantly, I must concur," Zia said, finally breaking his silence. "Though I have no wish to see Flynn and his people as enemies, it would serve our purposes to have something in place to hold him in check. However, I am not one to make that kind of call. So, Scripture, what do you suggest?"

"You both have valid arguments," Scripture conceded.

"C'mon! Scripture, don't tell me you're buying this shit!"

"Synapse, please," Scripture said, "hear me out first. Zia and Marcel do have a point. However, Mal was very adamant about how we handle Flynn and his people. It would not be prudent to act until we have his input."

"So what," Winningham snarled, "we just fucking wait until he awakens from chrysalis? We don't even know how long he's going to be that way. And then we got Geryon's disappearance to deal with."

"Shrapnel is dealing with that situation, Confederate."

"Why bother?" Winningham asked. "It was a fool's mission to begin with. Geryon is dead and we should deal with the Michaelites that killed him."

"As I said," Scripture continued, "Geryon's situation is being dealt with. And for the record, you should be careful when jumping to conclusions about things you do not know."

"Wait…you mean Geryon's alive?" Winningham's face paled when he asked the question.

Raoul grinned as he looked at the shocked look on Winningham's and Marcel's faces. They thought Geryon had actually perished and reacted quickly in trying to fill up vacuum in the power structure. Now that they know he's alive, they may not be so arrogant.

"Then why has he not returned?" Zia asked.

"Geryon has his reasons," Scripture replied, "and I respect them. For now, consider that another topic to be discussed when the time comes. Now, let us discuss the actions of the Michaelites and this man who calls himself 'Gabriel'."

The rest of the meeting pretty much the same way, comments, suggestions, veiled threats hurtled between various faction leaders and Scripture calling for order. However, as the meeting came to an end, Raoul realized that Zia, Winningham, and Marcel had pretty much formed their own little power bloc and that did concern him.

Winningham is a an arrogant white supremacist who is still tainted by his former baseline views, Zia is an unstable madman, and Marcel wants to acquire more power and influence. These three are dangerous separately but, together, they could jeopardize our movement and destroy what we're trying to work for.

However, there was nothing that Raoul could do at the moment. The only thing he could do was simply wait, watch, gather information, bide his time until an opportunity presented itself to act, and pray those three didn't do too much damage until then.

I just hope Scripture is not blind to what is happening because, if he is, there will be nothing for Mal to return to.

Barry Winningham was not too happy with how the meeting turned out. He had planned on pushing forward with a plan to carry out a series of coordinated strikes against multiple targets, hoping the successes would cement his place within the Teragen leadership and people would see him as a replacement for Geryon. However, that fool Scripture shot down that idea. Even more insulting was the "wait and see" attitude the man suggested when dealing with the potential threat a poser like David Flynn presented. Of course, his anger was tempered by the fear that Geryon, a rival within the organization, was alive and that the monster may come back. Of course, that fear was consumed by anger at the fact that Allison, someone who Winningham was hoping to sway to the cause (and possibly into his bed) was sent to find Geryon and had not returned.

And so, now, here he was after the meeting, sitting at a corner table in the main lounge of the Amp room with The Apostle and Zia. Winningham didn't really care much about either of them, especially Zia and his freak-show experimentation. However, when Marcel suggested they meet with a proposal that could change the balance of power in their favor…well, even Winningham was open to that idea.

"So," he said, pausing for a moment to take a sip of his whiskey before continuing, "what do you have in mind, Marcel?"

"Yes," Zia said, "I am curious as to why you were fairly docile this evening. Usually, you are trading insults with Orzaiz and Leviathan."

"As amusing as it is to play with those fools, the time for games has passed, my friends." The Apostle pulled a file folder out of his coat and opened it as he placed it on the table. "I apologize for the low-tech presentation, but I felt it was necessary because I didn't want to risk our good friend Synapse intercepting this."

Winningham picked up the file and thumbed through it, eyes widening in surprise as he read some of the highlighted parts. "Is this for real?" he asked as he handed the file to Zia.

"Oh, it is very real," The Apostle chuckled.

"How did you happen to come by this, Marcel?" Zia asked.

"Well, as you know, I managed to turn a couple of Utopia's nova operatives to our cause. They occasionally feed me information. This," The Apostle gestured at the file, "as you can see, is some of the intelligence they have of David Flynn and his operation."

Winningham let out a low whistle. "No wonder you want this guy to side with us…if he is truly that capable, we could easily bring Utopia to its knees."

"Yes, however, turning him is not an option," The Apostle said. "Apparently, Mr. Flynn's mind is very different than that of a nova or even a baseline. Team Tomorrow's resident telepath, Psyche, attempted to take control of Flynn and, according to my informant, she was in a coma for three days and still has nightmares of what she experienced. No, if we want to control or neutralize Flynn, we do it indirectly."

"Then what's the plan?"

The Apostle smiled at Winningham as he pulled a photo out of the file folder. "It's very simple," he said as he held up the photo, showing a young woman with short spiky pink hair drinking a mocha. "We get to Flynn through her."