Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does. Don't own Incredibles, Brad Bird and Pixar do (and they would probably scream for my head on a pike if they saw what I've done with their creations).

Author's Notes: As usual, thanks to everyone who's been reading this fic. This chapter was kind of hard to write because I don't like writing "sappy" moments, but I hope I did okay on this and didn't go too overboard with it. As some of you have guessed, there is some ugly shit about to go down again in this story, but I assure you that won't happen in THIS chapter. Well...it won't happen, but you'll see it coming.
On another note, I know I screwed up on some of the Teragen characters names and I do plan on fixing that. Unfortunately, I went through different sources online (as opposed to the sourcebooks) and there were a few inconsistencies as far as some characters go. Then again, this is a blending of two universes, so maybe I can be forgiven a little.

There are those who believe that homo sapiens and homo sapiens novus are two separate races and I will admit that I am one of those. However, despite what some of my fellow believers claim, we are still ruled by our own natures, whether it be baseline or nova. Though we grow, adapt, and evolve, many of us still hold on to the core of our inner being because that, ultimately, is what makes each and every one of us who we are. Yes, I understand that is not anything new, but it seems to be basic knowledge that is commonly tossed aside and forgotten.

For to look at one's own nature is to see into their very soul and who they really are. Some would be surprised to discover that the impressions they have of a particular individual differs from who and what that individual truly is. A demonic looking individual could have the soul of an angel, while one who appears to be a fighter for the light is filled with a darkness that threatens to consume everyone around them.

-From the writings of Jeremiah Scripture

5 November

Syndrome Software & Technologies

Metroville, California

0100 Hrs

Though it was after hours and Saturday evening, Bridgette was thankful that the SST building was open and that the visitor's card that Zoe Kilmarten gave her still worked. Since Violet Parr's shooting, a lot of personnel were still at SST, some staying in the residential suites instead of going to their homes. However, this late in the evening, the main lobby was empty, the lights only at half-power and the Neon Café in the corner was closed. She wasn't exactly sure why she chose this place, but she didn't feel like having it out with her father in the hospital and she sure as hell didn't feel like arguing in the car with her father on the way back home to LA. SST, she decided, was perhaps the closest she was going to get to a neutral venue. With most of the employees retired for the evening or at the hospital visiting Violet, it was pretty much empty.

It was the perfect place to yell at her father and, when Flynn returned from whatever hell errand he went on, she would want to know how much he knew. So here she was, in the lobby, facing off against her father, wanting to demand some answers but fearful that she would get exactly what she wanted and that nothing would ever be the same between them again.

For several seconds, they stood there, staring at each other and saying nothing. Bridgette studied her father's face and she could see the look of sadness in his eyes which told her that her fears might not only be true, but far worse than she could imagine.

"I want to know," she finally said, drawing up the courage to speak.

"How much do you want to know?" Her father's response surprised her. At the very least, she was expecting some sort of false ignorance or outright denial from him, but not straight acknowledgement. "And before you answer that," Doctor Saunders continued, "I want you to know that I love you very much, but I can't protect you from the truth forever and I will understand-"

"No," Bridgette said, cutting him off. "Don't play the emotional card with me…you're not getting off that easily. Ever since we first came here to SST, I've been feeling things…sensations…having thoughts that weren't my own and, after a few encounters with Flynn, experiencing memory lapses or blackouts of some sort. I want to know why I can hear what David Flynn is thinking and why you've been treating me like I was a bomb that might go off at any moment."

"Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?"

"Tell me." It wasn't a request, it was a demand.

Saunders sighed and shook his head. "Fine," he said, "but I want you to understand everything I did was for your benefit."

"What did you do?" Bridgette asked, feeling her anger beginning to rise.

"After your mother died, you were the only thing that mattered to me." The man looked down at the ground for a moment and he looked like he instantly aged five years, the stress of what he was about to tell her had obviously taken a toll. "I was willing to just walk away from my work, retire and just raise you. I lost your mother to cancer and I had thrown myself into my work most of the time while she fought it, because I didn't want to think about the pain she was constantly in and watch her waste away like that. By the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late for me to be there for her and she died before I could make it up to her. I fooled myself into thinking maybe…maybe if I kept working on the nanotech, I could have found a way to cure her. That was the excuse I kept telling myself right on up to her death.

"When she died, I knew the only way to make it up to her was take care of you and not neglect you like I did her. I had even begun to make some breakthroughs in my research, but none of it mattered anymore. You were the only thing I cared about and I wasn't going to let the sins of my past destroy your life like I did your mother's." He paused for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes as he remembered that time. Then his voice became bitter as he spoke again. "But I guess karma decided to screw my life over by having my sins come back to bite me in the ass and target you in the process."

"What happened?" Bridgette asked. "And what does this have to do with my situation now?"

Saunders gave his daughter a bitter laugh. "What happened," he repeated, "is that life decided to attack us with something other than cancer. When you were three, it was discovered that you were autistic. Initially, I ignored your strange behavior, writing it off from your lack of family interaction, but I was hit hard with the truth when I had taken you to a doctor for your check-up. Cancer took my wife from me, and now another disease was going to take you away from me little by little. I couldn't take it…and, just like I did with your mother, I threw myself into my research but even more so. I didn't sleep for days, I ate very little, and I kept pushing myself harder and harder. And then…I did it." He laughed again, but it was hollow and still filled with bitterness. "I actually made a breakthrough and came up with an adaptable algorithm programming set for my nanotech. Once that was done, synthesizing the nanites was no problem. I should have tested them, but I was desperate. I had run simulations, I knew a more thorough study should have been conducted, but I didn't care; I was watching you fade away just like your mother did and I didn't want that to happen again…so I brought you to the lab…sedated you, and introduced the nanites to your system via an IV. I then proceeded to give you about a dozen more similar treatments after that as a follow up."

"I remember those," Bridgette said, her eyes narrowing, "you told me that I had a weak immune system and those were protein supplements to help rebuild it."

"You were four or five years old at the time, but I wasn't exactly lying to you either. I told you that they were helping you get better and they did. The treatment didn't cure you of your autism so much as it 'rewired' and 'reworked' your brain to function with it."

"You turned me into a lab rat?" Bridgette felt like she was going to be sick. "So, I'm just a science experiment to you?"

"No, dammit!" Saunders snapped. "I was saving you and I did it the only way I knew how. Yes, I asked myself about the moral implication of what I was doing and questioned my ethics, but I didn't care. You were my daughter and I wasn't going to lose you too!"

Bridgette was surprised by her father's vehemence and anger. And yet, while she was angry at what he had done to her, she could see that her father was indeed telling the truth; he loved her and didn't want to lose her.

But what does that make me then?

She shoved that question aside. She would worry about that later. "Okay," she said, "I'm really not sure what to make of this revelation and I'm sure we'll have more arguments about this later, but what's Flynn got to do with this? And how did he know about me?"

"Flynn's story is not mine to tell," Saunders said. "But I will tell you two things about him. First, as you know, he has the ability to mentally link of with electronic devices and networks."

Bridgette's eyes widened in realization at what her father was saying. "And he was able to access the nanotech going through my brain…oh god…he could have taken control of me at any moment, couldn't he?" She walked over to one of the leather chairs in the lobby and sat down, feeling a little nauseated. "That's also why I could also hear some of his thoughts, wasn't it? It works both ways."

Saunders nodded. "Yes," he replied. "But you shouldn't be worried about Flynn, he never would have taken control of you. When he realized what you were, he felt you had a right to know. I agreed, but I didn't want you to find out like this. I knew I would have to tell you the truth, eventually, but Flynn convinced me the sooner the better."

"And why would he even care?" Bridgette snapped.

Her father smiled sadly at her. "Because," he replied, "he's family. That's the other thing you should know about him."

"What?" Bridgette couldn't believe what she just heard. "Say that again?"

"Your Aunt Melissa, the one you used to spend a lot of time with when you were a little girl…she's David's mother."

"Whoa…wait…you're telling me David Pine Flynn…that arrogant punk nova…"

"Yes."

"The prick who thumbs his nose at Utopia?"

"Uh...huh…that would be the one."

"He's my cousin?"

"Yep."

Bridgette reached up and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Great…now I feel a migraine coming on."

Despite the situation, Saunders couldn't help laughing. "Well, you would have found out eventually."

"Just why didn't you tell me this before?"

Saunder's smile faded a little. "As I said, it's not my story to tell."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately."

"I know, but if you really want to know what's going on with him, just ask him. He'll tell you."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you're family, Bridgette and while I will agree with you that your cousin can be a little arrogant at times, family and friendships are what truly matter to him. All this you see here," Saunders gestured around at the lobby with his arms, "means nothing to him when it comes to those he cares about."

Bridgette thought about that for a moment and realized her father was right about that. David Flynn, despite being an arrogant punk, cared very much for his co-workers. In fact, she noticed that the SST employees as a whole acted more like a family instead of a bunch of egotistical novas. Then she realized something else.

"That's why you've been wary of Utopia, isn't it?" she asked. "You knew that if I went to them, they would find out about me."

"Yes…and I also knew that Flynn, despite your mutual hostility, would never betray you to them either."

Bridgette shook her head again. "This is too much drama for me right now, you know that?" She then looked back up to her father. "So what happens now?"

"I guess that's up to you, Bridgette," Saunders replied. "I can't tell you what to do with your life, but at least you know the truth." He then reached down and put a hand on her shoulder. "Just remember, you're still my daughter, I love you, and you are not just some experiment to me, okay?"

"That means a lot to me, Dad," she said, managing to blink back tears. "But I gotta' tell you, this is pretty hard to take in. Can you just give me a couple hours alone to think about this, please?"

Saunders nodded and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze, then smiled at her before turning around and walking away.

Bridgette watched her father exit through the lobby doors and looked down at the ground as she thought about what she learned.

So the secret is out. I knew Dad had done a lot of classified stuff, but this…and he's right, I could never approach Utopia now. They would see me as something to be studied and, if Flynn's right, exploited.

She sighed and closed her eyes.

So what now, Bridgette? At least only Dad and Flynn know about me.

And at that moment, she heard someone sneeze above her. Her eyes shot open and she immediately looked up to locate the source of the sneeze.

Looking down at her, hanging upside down from one of the ceiling light fixtures with a laptop in a specialized harness, Shiro Murakami gave her a sheepish grin and waved at her with a taloned hand. "Um," he said, "hi?"

Bridgette just glared at him.

"Um," Shiro said again, "I was listening to my MP3 player...yeah...that's it!" He pointed to the earbuds hanging off his neck. "See?"

Bridgette continued to glare at him for a few more seconds until, finally, he sighed, "Okay, maybe I might have heard a little bit of it."

"Define 'a little bit'," she said.

Shiro dropped down from the ceiling, flipping over mid-way in order to land on his feet and using his wings and tail to balance the landing. He folded his wings around his body like a cloak as he set his lap-top on a nearby coffee table. "Well, let's see," he said, "how about everything from 'I want to know' on up to this very awkward moment?"

"So you heard everything?"

"Um…yeah…pretty much." Shiro cocked his head to one side, a concerned look on his face. "It's kind of a shock to hear, but I'm going to skip the whole scientific curiosity part where I barrage you with questions and piss you off because it will look like I care more about technology than people. Instead, I'm just going to ask, 'are you okay?'."

That statement caught Bridgette off guard. From the time she spent with Shiro and other SST employees, she was expecting him to start asking her about the nanotech in her head or talk about the moral and ethical implications of such a technology. She didn't expect him to ask about her.

"Are you?" he asked again.

"Excuse me?" she finally managed to say, feeling a lump in her throat.

"Are you okay?"

The full impact of what had been done to her had finally struck and Bridgette found herself blinking back tears again. Thankfully, she had enough willpower to keep it under control…but not enough to block out the emotional pain. "No," she replied after a few more seconds. "I'm not okay…but there's not much I can do about the situation, is there? Except maybe, move on."

Shiro ran his hand through the short mane of wavy black hair on his head and then sat down in the chair next to her. "Actually, there are a lot of things you can do," he said, "other than just simply shoving it aside and, as you put it, 'move on'." He then began counting off with his fingers. "You could get all mad, scream at the world, go into a blind rage and cry about how your life is nothing. You could just break down and start crying, feeling sorry for yourself, crying out and doing the whole 'Blade Runner' thing and ask 'Am I really human? If I'm not, then what am I?' You could go the other way, suddenly see yourself as non-human, superior to other life, and go 'The Terminator' route."

Despite herself, Bridgette found herself laughing at that.

"And, of course, there's the reaction you just came up with: feel like there's nothing you could do, push the pain aside, and try to move on." Shiro shook his head. "I gotta' tell ya though, all those options suck, but that last one's the worst because it will eat at you and, more than likely, you'll then fall into one of the previous examples I just cited."

She was still smiling when she gave him a curious look before asking, "It's just those four options?"

"Well no," Shiro admitted, grinning at her, "there's hundreds of ideas I could come up with, but those were just the first four I could pull off the top of my head…given the fact I was thinking more about the cheat codes for Warrior World II while taking into account the drama of your life exploding right in front of me."

"Gee, you certainly know how to make a girl feel better."

Shiro sighed again, this time the smile faded a little. "Look, Bridgette, I know it's none of my business, but since I've gotten to know you a little over the last few days, let me tell you what I think of you." He held up a claw to silence her. "Just hear me out, okay? Obviously, with all that nano-gunk in your head, you have some unresolved issues, but tell me who doesn't have unresolved issues. I guess what I'm saying, and maybe it's a little cliché, but don't let this change who you are just because you feel that it's destroyed everything you thought you believed in or accepted. Okay, so you're father experimented on you, but it's not like he decided to go all 'Dr. Frankenstein' on you. He did what he did because he loved you and was afraid that he was going to lose you like he lost your mother. Of course, I could go on about the moral ramifications of messing with someone because of their autism, but he wasn't doing that just to make some scientific breakthrough. He was desperate to save someone he cared about…just like David was desperate to call you and your father to help Vi."

"I see your point," Bridgette admitted, "but I can't help wondering how the nanites changed me…personality wise, you know what I mean?"

Shiro shook his head. "Shit," he grumbled, "you're not going to go all 'DS9' on me and pull a 'Doctor Bashir', are you?"

Again, Bridgette was caught off guard by Shiro's comments. "What?"

"You know…Star Trek Deep Space Nine, Doctor Bashir, the guy who was an augmented human because his parents were concerned about their boy's learning disabilities and they had illegal treatments done to him to make him a more 'superior' human?"

Bridgette blinked a couple times. "Um…didn't watch many science fiction programs, Shiro; too much fiction, not enough science."

"Okay, we really need to get your pop culture references up to speed someday," Shiro chuckled, "but not today. Forgive me for getting a little philosophical on you, but let me ask you this: How did you become you are today?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Do you really think that you're the way you are because your father shot you full of some nanotech? I mean, did you suddenly wake up and become a scientist?"

"Well, no."

"Okay, then how?"

"I just wasn't like other kids, you know. I just liked building stuff, seeing how they worked."

"Did your father force you to assist him in his research?"

"No…it's just I got bored, wanted something to do, and I kept bugging him all the time to let me help. And besides, one can only do some much with Legos, especially when you grow older."

Shiro arched an eyebrow at that. "Seriously, Legos?" he asked.

Bridgette smiled at that memory. "Yeah, I've always had Legos, ever since I could remember. I remember my Dad sitting down next me one time while I was playing with them, making up these bizarre shapes, but trying to keep following a particular pattern of color coding. That was the night before…" Her voice trailed off as the realization hit her.

"Before what?"

"Before my father took me to his lab." Bridgette felt a single tear roll down her cheek as she remembered that night. "I didn't care what he was saying; I just kept trying to build the patterns."

"And what happened after that."

"The patterns were still there, but they had to be more complex and had to make sense." She smiled as she remembered something. "On my sixth birthday, Dad gave me a book about molecules and I would make lego constructs of them." Then she laughed. "I still use them from time to time to build a base model of what a molecular sized machine would look like."

"Okay, but other than giving you that book, did your father force you to follow in his footsteps?"

"No, I did that on my own. Part of it was boredom, but mostly because I liked doing that kind of stuff."

Shiro smiled at her again. "Then there you go," he said. "Sure, your dad gave that book when you were a kid, but what parent doesn't do something that influences them one way or another? And did it really change you that much? I mean…you're still Bridgette, that funny, pop-culture handicapped, but cute and scary smart girl who plays with legos." He then gave her light playful punch in the arm. "Just remember that one fact and I think you'll be okay." He then got up out of his chair and checked his watch, stretching out his wings as he did so. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he said as he picked up his laptop off the coffee table, "I'm gonna' hit this diner that Jake the security guy was telling me about. They're open twenty-four hours and I hear they got some good pancakes."

"Hey, Shiro," Bridgette said as he started to walk away.

Shiro paused and looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Shiro gave her tiny smile and a nod. "No problem," he said giving her a mock salute with a taloned hand. "Just remember who you are and you'll get through this."

Bridgette watched him walk away before he disappeared out the main lobby door. Oddly enough, talking to him did cheer her up a little and, to be honest, he had a point.

Just remember who you are, she mentally repeated to her self, the funny, pop-culture handicapped, but cute and scary smart girl who plays with legos.

That's when the realization suddenly hit her.

Wait…did he just call me 'cute'?

PRIMUS Heaquarters

Washington D.C.

Robert Washington Kaufman sat behind his desk and took a sip of coffee as he scrolled through the various reports flashing across his computer screen. To say the last week had been eventful would have been an understatement. Actually, the last couple months had been fairly active, but the events of this last week alone left him with the distinct impression that things were just heating up.

The attack on Mexico City by persons unknown, the battle between Utopia and David Pine Flynn, the revelation of Utopia covert activity in various government agencies around the world, and then, most recently, a cyber-attack that crippled several networks around the world with Utopia being fingered as the culprit…Kaufman wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry. Yes, a lot of chaos and destruction had happened, but it appeared to be Project Utopia taking the brunt of it.

After Flynn's revelation of Utopia's infiltration of various government agencies, various American politicians and administration officials who had been friendly toward Utopia had mostly changed their tune. PRIMUS, an organization that had been a favorite target for budget cuts by various pro-Utopia congressmen, suddenly found itself being the possible recipient of new funding being drafted up by pro-American congressmen. Granted, they did not have enough votes to get their bills passed, but Kaufman noted that opposition to the funding was beginning to weaken. Apparently, some moderate Utopia supporters were caving into demands by their constituents that they curb their pro-Utopia bias.

Of course, given the fact that we have an election coming up in less than two days, some of these bastards realize they are suddenly vulnerable.

He was quite certain that a good number of members of the US Senate and the House of Representatives would be looking for new jobs as lobbyists, talk show hosts, or finding a home in the public speaking circuit after Tuesday's results. With some of Utopia's secret activity revealed, Kaufman was very certain that his organization would have stronger allies in Congress in the next couple months. He would be able to get more funding restored to his organization and some of his supporters in congress would begin drafting up legislation that would make it mandatory for novas or any other super-powered beings to register with the government.

And if I play my cards right, I might be able to get congress to force Dicker to release the NSA database he has on registered supers and their families. That fossil and his crew have outlived their usefulness and it's time to know what they know.

He tapped a couple keys and brought up the file on David Pine Flynn.

And then there's this kid.

While Kaufman didn't trust novas and saw them as a threat to American interests, he couldn't help appreciating the irony that David Pine Flynn had pretty much set himself up as a young American businessman taking on Project Utopia at every turn. It had made the young man a hero to many within America. When he got the letter from Senator Arlen Kinsey, Kaufman was wary of the plan the senator proposed. However, he couldn't argue with the results.

By appearing to publicly back David Flynn, it shores up his image of being a "patriot" fighting Utopia's one world order and the American people are starting to have a favorable view of PRIMUS because of my actions.

But Kaufman was no fool. He knew that David Flynn, like any nova, couldn't be trusted and, eventually, he would have to be dealt with. Unfortunately, dealing with Flynn would be trickier than dealing with other novas.

While he does not support my registration proposal, Flynn has negated that argument by coming out in public. Everyone knows he's a nova, they know who he is, and where he is. By making himself such a public figure, it would be impossible to portray him as an enemy. The same goes for his employees. Those that we publicly know about are also known and Flynn made sure the rest of the others are registered with Dicker's NSA.

He opened up another file that displayed recent surveillance photos taken of Flynn in the last week.

Intimidating Flynn won't work either. Someone made an attempt on his life and critically injured one of his people, and now Utopia is paying the price. If we attack him, it must be with enough severity and lethality to cripple him so he cannot react. Hmm…perhaps I should contact Arlen and have him get a hold of his contacts in the Institute for Human Advancement or even Piper and his Michaelites. If they could agitate Flynn into retaliating against them, I can portray Flynn as an unstable nova who targets Americans who disagree with him.

He smiled at that thought and continued to browse through the photos; then he suddenly stopped when he saw a picture of Flynn entering the hospital with an older man that Kaufman hadn't seen in years.

Well, well, well…talk about it being a small world. Doctor Aaron Saunders…what rock did David Flynn find you hiding under?

Kaufman frowned as he thought about the implications. The last time he encountered Saunders, it was when PRIMUS contracted him to improve the Cyberline formula that gave Kaufman and his Silver Avengers their enhanced physical abilities. However, there had been a few 'incidents' with some failed experiments when others attached to the project did not heed Saunders' warning about the instability of his new formula. It turned into a catastrophic PR nightmare and PRIMUS had a good chunk of its funding cut, especially after Saunders testified before a congressional committee hearing.

Now why would David Flynn contact you unless he was certain you could help him with Miss Parr's condition?

Before he could think more about the situation, his phone rang. Curious that someone would contact him at 1am in the morning, he checked the ID…only to see that the caller was blocked.

How's that possible? A blocked caller would not have been able to breach this line of communication without being identified.

That thought alone made him realize that whoever was calling him must have had some serious technology to breach PRIMUS security like that. Even more curious, he picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Robert Kaufman," chuckled a man at the other end of the line. "AKA the 'Golden Avenger', Director of PRIMUS…you are a hard man to reach, you know that?"

"Who is this?" Kaufman asked, tapping on his computer keyboard and attempting to trace the call.

"Oh, c'mon, Kaufman, don't be like that. We're friends…and you're wasting your time trying to track this call. I've got it being bounced around all over the place, but I don't have much time. Although, I gotta' tell ya; not once, did I imagine that a distinguished head of such a fine government institution was in semi-regular contact with Michah Piper. I mean…what the hell are the odds on that, right?"

Kaufman waited a couple seconds for the trace to complete before he could answer. However, he was shocked when the trace suddenly terminated and the message 'Signal Lost' flashed across the screen.

"Dammit, stop trying to trace me," the caller said. "It's not going to do you any good and I'm trying to be nice here."

Kaufman sighed and shook his head. "What do you want?" he asked.

"That's a pretty loaded question, now, isn't it?" The voice chuckled again. "I wanted to contact you because you and I have the same friends these days and I figured we should talk about what's going to happen in the next twenty-four hours."

"What do you mean by friends?"

"Let's just say you and I are affiliated with same CHURCH as it were. And please don't say 'I don't know what you're talking about', because you know exactly what I'm talking about. Besides, you've actually been in contact with Grand Deacon Piper, so let's skip that dance and move on to not what I want but, instead, what you want." The voice paused for a moment, but when the man spoke again, there was no humor in it this time. "What you want, Robert Kaufman, is to get rid of the cancer that has taken your country away from you little by little and rendered you almost impotent to act. PRIMUS is being fast tracked to extinction and you risk becoming nothing more than a paper tiger. I am going to give you something that will shift the balance of power in your favor."

Now Kaufman was curious. "Okay, I'm listening."

"Tomorrow, Mr. Kaufman, there will be an attack in Houston, Texas on one of Utopia's Rashoud training centers. If you have any personnel in the immediate area, you might want to pull them out and let Utopia handle the attack by what the Utopia-biased media will portray as 'a bunch of religious, radical, and warmongering right-wingers clinging to their guns and religion'." The man laughed again. "And, sorry to say, given who will be carrying out that part of the attack, that's probably not too far from the truth."

"If you're talking about an attack on American citizens, we are duty bound to prevent such an action."

"Spare me the ultra-patriotic BS for a moment, okay? You know as well as I do that, in order to get people to see your point of view, bad things have to happen. In this case, however, I can guarantee that Utopia will be fully responsible for what happens and that, as an added bonus, people will take your stance on novas far more seriously."

"Exactly what do you intend to do?"

"You're better off not knowing, Kaufman, believe me. But let me ask you something. You've seen the country fall apart, being systematically corrupted and dismantled by forces within as well as by UN outsiders. So tell me, isn't the lives of a couple thousand civilians worth sacrificing if it helps you make your nation strong again? To save a country with a population of three hundred million people, isn't that a relatively cheap price to pay?"

A small part of Kaufman felt a sense of revulsion that he was actually considering this course of action and, for a moment, he was tempted to tell whoever he was talking to what they could do with themselves and hang up the phone. However, he thought about the decay he had witnessed in his country over the last two decades and how it seemed to accelerate with the emergence of so many new super-humans around the world since the Galatea incident eight years ago.

Project Utopia wasted no time in taking control of the United Nations and, with their resources, began trying to force their one-world agenda on the rest of us. If this action can destroy their standing in the view of the world…then the decision isn't that hard to make.

"Mr. Kaufman, are you still with me?" the voice asked.

"Yes," Kaufman finally replied. "And what exactly would you have me do during this incident?"

The man on the other end laughed again. "That's the beauty of it, my friend. You don't have to do anything. Just be ready to respond to the emergency and prepare for a lot of press conferences because the country, as well as the world, will need to see someone who is not afraid to stand up to the 'evil one world regime' that Utopia represents. And trust me, after what happens, the world will see who was truly responsible for the devastation and it won't be the so called 'right wing radical nutjobs'…because they, sadly, will perish as well."

"You would sacrifice your own people for this?"

"You're willing to sacrifice thousands of civilians to make this possible, Kaufman. It's only fair that there has to be loss on our end as well."

"Or perhaps you're sacrificing people you deem as disposable or present a threat to your own plans." Kaufman replied with a smirk.

"Ah, my friend…so you do know how to play this game. After all, how many Silver Avenger operatives have you forcibly 'retired' when they got too close to the truth about you?"

"You're very well informed," he said, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "You clearly have an agenda of your own, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, everyone has an agenda. But rest assured, Kaufman, our paths go the same direction. We both want to see Utopia quashed and those damn novas dealt with. All I ask in return is one small favor."

"And what might that be?" Kaufman asked. And now, he thought, here come the impossible demands or veiled threats meant to keep me from acting against him.

"Oh, it's a simple one, and nothing you have to worry too much about. David Pine Flynn."

"What about him?"

"I want you and your organization to stay away from him."

"Why? Surely you see that he is a threat that will have to eventually be dealt with."

The man on the other end of line laughed again. "Oh, you misunderstand me…I don't want you to leave him alone. He is a threat, but you have no idea what he is truly capable of. No, I want you to stay clear of him because that little bastard is my concern and I will deal with him accordingly."

Kaufman was stunned by the anger he was hearing from the man. Clearly, this person has something against Flynn. "If you don't mind me asking, what is your problem with the boy?"

"Need to know, Kaufman," the voice replied. "But that's my condition, restoration of your organization and your country for one pathetic piece of aberrant garbage and his crew. Do we have a deal?"

Kaufman thought about it for a moment. He was hoping that his organization would be dealing with Flynn because PRIMUS could use the treasure trove of technology that young man was sitting on. However, if this person was offering to take Flynn and SST down, Kaufman realized it would keep his hands clean and, once the smoke cleared, he might be able retrieve some of Flynn's tech.

And if this man is telling the truth, he might be that act of severity and lethality that could cripple Flynn. And perhaps, Flynn may cripple this individual in the process…making it easier to mop up whoever is left and confiscating their assets as a matter of "national security".

"We have a deal," he said with a smile.

"Good," the voice said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a busy day ahead."

"Before you hang up, who are you?" Kaufman was curious. At the very least he figured he should learn who he was dealing with and intending to double-cross.

"They call me Gabriel." The response chilled Kaufman to the bone. He had heard rumors about this "Gabriel" and that he was involved in the murder of the super team in San Francisco and the massacre in Mexico City. However, it was what Gabriel said next that chilled him. "Oh, and Kaufman, don't think about double crossing me. I want you to take a good look at what will happen in Houston and realize that I can very easily do the same to you if you try screw me over. Good-bye."

Then the line went dead, leaving Kaufman alone with his thoughts.

Whoever this Gabriel is…if he is indeed the 'Gabriel' rumored to be behind the attacks on San Francisco and Mexico City…he could be a problem. However, I'll play his game for now…in the meantime…

Kaufman went back to the surveillance photos of Doctor Aaron Saunders and his daughter, Bridgette.

What am I going to do about you, Doctor Saunders?