Chapter One Hundred and Fifty One

...

"We're back!" Ellie called out to the building at large as she returned with Anita and Heidi, all three of them carrying bags with more in the car. Her driver was still gathering bags, and Security One and Security Two were getting their own as well.

The latter two hadn't been happy about being put on bag duty, but Ellie had helped to design the Sanctuary's security system herself, and simply left them both outside as she walked in with Anita and Heidi.

"Where is everyone?" Anita asked, surprised to see the foyer empty.

Donny and Wendy called out and waved from a landing further up, heading over to the elevator.

"The kids are running late; weren't they meant to be here half an hour ago?" Ellie asked, looking to her watch with a frown.

"Donny will probably know," Anita said. "I just want to put these bags down. My wrists are killing me. Oh!" she said in surprise as Security One grabbed the bags out of her hand.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said with a nod. "Ellie, I don't care if you built the security system yourself, let me do my job - which is to protect you - instead of running off like some ridiculous pop star."

"If anyone wanted to get me between the car and building, they were welcome to try. It's external security as well, y'know," Ellie said as she headed over to the foyer's lounge, setting her bags down. Heidi followed and did the same gratefully.

"We read the security booklet, Ellie. You made us," Security Two said, carrying his own set of bags over.

"Would one of you help the poor dears at the door? You know Joey's only skill is driving," Ellie said, wincing at the sight of her driver almost falling over with his bags, a blonde woman almost getting squashed by him in the process.

Security One and Security Two headed over to the doors, Security Two opening the door and helping Joey as he almost fell into the building. Security One stepped outside to help the civilian, stopping short on seeing the cute blonde woman with flour dusting her cheeks and holding a cupcake holder protectively, glowering at Joey with all the ferocity of a marshmallow.

"Hi. Can I help you with that?" Security One asked, smiling.

Ammie stopped glaring at the clumsy person who'd almost ruined her masterpieces - her favourite penguin cupcake was in this holder! - and up at the man. He was large and there was no other way to describe him: large shoulders, large body, large hands, and large smile. He was like two of her in height and width, and Ammie could only stare for a moment.

"Are you all right?" Security One asked, somewhat alarmed that she hadn't responded, and wondering if he needed to use Joey's body as a hockey stick with his head as the puck for hurting this woman.

"Oh! I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm more worried about Captain Fancypants," Ammie admitted, looking into the clear container and trying to determine if the penguin was still in one piece.

"You named the cupcakes?" Security One asked, trying not to sound too amused, even though he thought it was goddamn adorable.

"Well, yes. You're not laughing at me, are you?" Ammie asked, looking up at him with a scrutinising expression.

Security One smiled again, big and broad. "Never."

Inside, Joey fell over, somehow dragging Security Two down with him, with a mess of bags spreading across the foyer floor.

"Bloody hell, Joey, keep it quiet, would you? I think Security One's gone and got smitten with blondie. Five bucks says he'll ask for a transfer by the end of the day," Ellie said, rolling her eyes.

"I'll take that bet, ma'am," Security Two called, picking Joey up and telling him to collect the fallen clothes and bags.

Heidi giggled and went to help poor Joey before Security Two strangled him with the blue hoodies. They were too nice for that, and she had her very own one to prove it.

...

Terrence worked his power, untangling wires from brain tissue and dislodging signals that weren't meant to be there. He felt as though he were pulling the wires out of his own head, the mirror echoed as a phantom pain at the base of his skull, and he let out a soft horrified moan as he saw the blood coating the wires.

"There you go, you did it. Good work, Terrence. Thank you, both of you," Honey said, hugging him quickly and squeezing Adam's shoulder. "One down, thirty-four to go."

"What? Honey."

"I know. It'll be easier now, you know what to do. Two and three, quickly, before the animal stampede happens."

"Robin found the force field device?" Adam asked.

"Yes. Concentrate, Terrence. Two more in here, then we can do the rest outside," Honey promised.

Terrence swallowed hard. He wanted to ask Adam to hold his hand again, but he knew it must have been hard for Adam the first time around and didn't want to push his luck.

"All right, Terrence. Okay?" Adam asked, placing his hand over Terrence's once more.

Terrence nodded. He could do this, so long as Adam kept holding his hand. "Okay."

...

Nina was grateful to the Mayor for giving her her job, but he had done that twelve years ago now, and the shine of her gratitude had worn thin with not only time but with each idiotic decision or mistake he made. This whole debacle with Jetstream certainly wasn't the first time the media had discovered one of his mistresses, but it was the first time Nina had had to deal with it herself. Layla was his PA and it was usually their job to deal with the vultures like this, but as she was a minor, the role had somehow ended up with Nina.

She'd be getting another pay raise for this shit, Nina mused, even as she ended the call with another vulture. And first thing on Monday morning, she was going to take the Mayor's phone off forward. When she found out who had forwarded his phone to her mobile, Nina was going to make sure they regretted it.

Her phone rang again and Nina looked at the drain, wondering if she could "accidentally" drop it. Holding her phone tighter, she actually looked at the screen, and frowned on seeing Mrs. Woo's name.

"Nǐ hǎo," she answered. (Hello. Chinese)

"Your accent needs improvement," Mrs. Woo said.

Nina sighed. "Hello, Mrs. Woo. Is everything okay?"

"I saw your boss on the news - "

"You and everyone else," Nina muttered.

" - and Warren said you had to put out the fire."

"Trying to. The journalists are persistent and my phone won't stop ringing," she admitted.

"Then I will keep you busy. How long until Warren proposes?"

Nina blinked at the unexpected question. "What?"

"Warren, he will propose to Layla, yes? When?"

Nina frowned, turning and heading back into the building. "I have no idea. Why?"

"Edith has a betting pool for money this time. I want to update the kitchen."

Nina laughed. "Of course. I'll ask and let you know. When did Edith rope you into her betting pools?"

"She is a good customer. I only go for the ones with money. I lost Connor and Victor by two days," Mrs. Woo groused.

Nina heard Kim calling in the background, Mrs. Woo responding in faster Cantonese than she could understand.

"I have to go. I will keep the phone on the line for you. The vultures will not bother you," Mrs. Woo promised, setting her phone down and letting the call continue as she went to help Kim in the kitchen.

"Thank you, Mrs. Woo," Nina called.

She was going to buy Mrs. Woo a giant gift basket to thank her for a day of freedom from the vultures.

...

Craig's eyes widened as the wardens broke through the wall itself. Beau grabbed him around the waist, almost throwing Craig down the slide to get him out.

"Whoa! Beau! Grant! Get down here!" Craig called, scrambling to stop his descent and try to climb the slide back up to the bathroom.

On the ground, Zach reached up to pull Craig down, ignoring his cursing and swearing. Beside him, Ethan reformed Indigo and the small boy.

Terrence stepped forward and placed his hand on the back of their collars, dislodging the wires and slipping the collars off. Adam added them to the pile and spat onto them, watching with vindictive pleasure as acid corroded the abominations.

They both joined the other children in the car silently and without protest, Nigel losing the front seat to expand the mattress further.

Craig stood by Zach and Jewel, calling out for Beau and Grant again. There was no answer, but then Beau went flying out the window. Craig swore and flew up into the air, catching Beau and turning just in time to see Grant flying at him as well. Grabbing Grant by the torso, he spun in midair before stopping, flying down to the ground and setting his boyfriends on their feet gently.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Jewel asked, running over to meet them, checking Beau and Grant and Craig over.

"They only threw us, they didn't punch us," Grant said, still trembling as he held Jewel close.

"I'll punch them, throwing my boyfriends out a fucking window," Jewel muttered.

Grant held Jewel tighter. "No, babe. Warren's got it."

"We thought he had it before," Craig murmured, worrying at his lower lip.

"He's got it now. You'll understand when you see him," Beau said, sliding down to sit on the grass and calm his racing heart.

Craig frowned but joined his boyfriend, sitting on his lap as a countdown began from the car-load of children.

"Twenty, nineteen, eighteen... "

...

Bill shook his head minutely as Charlie looked to Mr. A's office door. There was one person you didn't mess with at the Super Bureau, and that person was Mr. A. The director of the Bureau was an unforgiving and unbending man who would sooner kill someone than talk to them.

Charlie looked annoyed but conceded with a nod and left the door alone.

The door opened a few seconds later, Mr. A's secretary walking out and sitting at her desk. She tapped on her keyboard noisily for a minute, then looked over to Bill and Charlie. "Mr. A will see you now."

"Thanking you," Bill said, standing and walking into the luxurious office with Charlie a step behind him.

Charlie took their lead from Bill and stayed quiet as Mr. A finished his phone call. They clutched a bouncy ball in their pocket, hoping the smooth rubbery material would calm their nerves.

" - if the problem isn't resolved in ten minutes and confirmed by phone, your settings will be changed as well," Mr. A said sternly, ending the call and turning his attention to Bill. "Status report."

Bill gave his usual weekly update on the performance of agents under his supervision, a summary of the reports he had received and any important updates, and Charlie sat there quietly. They tried to count to the highest number they could to ease their nerves, but after four thousand, Charlie was bored. Boredom usually meant doors opened, and they knew Bill wouldn't appreciate that during their report, let alone Mr. A. Reciting the alphabet backwards wouldn't last long, but Charlie did it anyway to keep their mind occupied and the doors closed.

Mr. A's phone rang loudly. He seemed surprised at the sound and by the caller ID, but held up a hand to stop Bill's report so he could answer the call. "Why are you calling?"

Charlie didn't envy whoever was on the other end of that phone call. The door to Mr. A's liquor cabinet slowly creaked open. Bill looked at Charlie and the door closed quickly.

Mr. A must not have liked the answer he received because his expression changed from annoyance to anger. "Who's found you? What's going on?"

There was nothing but silence from what Charlie could tell. Listening intently - they could have heard a pin drop on the other side of the phone call - Charlie flinched back as they finally heard noise. It sounded like animals breathing and a woman screaming.

Mr. A slammed the phone down, picked it up and dialled a number. "Check Project Family. You have clearance for everything. Just go. Now!"

Charlie wondered if Mr. A was talking to them and mostly hoped they wouldn't be noticed while he was in such a foul mood. Being noticed by an angry Mr. A never ended well.

Mr. A set his phone down and looked at Bill and Charlie, his gaze lingering and intense for five full seconds. "You won't remember any of this walking out of that door."

"Yes, sir. We won't say a word," Bill said.

Mr. A smiled thinly. "No, I mean that literally. Leave. Oh, and send my secretary in on your way out."

Charlie stood and followed Bill, glancing to the innocuous door frame as they passed through it.

Mr. A's secretary smiled at them as they left. "How did it go?"

Bill smiled back at her charmingly. "All went well, Miss Amy. Mr. A would like to see you."

Amy nodded and stood as Bill and Charlie continued to their office.

Charlie was trembling by the time they sat down, and looked at the bouncy ball clutched in their hand in confusion. They didn't even remember taking it out of their pocket. "Bill? I think this is for you," they said, holding out the bouncy ball with a red blinking light in the middle.

Bill took the bouncy ball and went into his office without a word, looking as discomforted as Charlie felt. As with Mr. A, Charlie had no desire to know what was going on behind that closed door, and it stayed shut as Bill listened to the recording from the bouncy ball.

...

Warren stalked down the hallway, flames pressed tight against his body, his anger coiled in his stomach. This was a different anger than the one he'd held for Greta. He had anticipated killing her for months, his mind devising hundreds of ways to kill her for the things she'd done to Layla, but now? He was fucking pissed and the people responsible were right there and he would kill them without remorse. These fuckers tortured kids and chained them to beds and hurt his girlfriend to the point where she flinched back from him. He was going to enjoy killing them.

His flames burned brighter as his anger built and flared, and as he stepped into the broken bathroom, Warren's flames changed. The blue blazed brighter still, becoming a violet colour instead, the purple reflecting off the tiles around him.

His blue flames had barely singed these bastards and that was burning at almost 3,500 degrees Celsius. The purple flames were steadily climbing to 39,000 degrees Celsius. He'd never burned this hot before, and wasn't entirely sure what would happen. Warren just hoped that he'd be able to control it because his blue flames could melt tungsten, and the building around them was definitely made from weaker materials than that.

Warden One was almost out the window - his bulky shoulders too large and deformed to fit through the window - as Warden Two tried to break the wall around the window to make it bigger. Reaching for Warden Two, Warren held him around the neck and sent a lasso of purple flames out of the window to drag Warden One back inside. His lack of control had the flames wrapping around the warden's head rather than his torso, but it was close enough for Warren's liking. In his grasp, both wardens screamed in pain. Warren grinned at the noise and dragged Warden One back into the bathroom, screaming and clawing at the tiles the whole way. It didn't help and it didn't stop him.

Layla made it to the doorway as a countdown began outside - twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen - and she wondered if it was how long Warren would have to keep a hold of the wardens to actually kill them. They were screaming in pain, but did that really mean they were going to die from this? Pain could be pleasurable for some, as she very well knew, and Layla stepped into the bathroom to help Warren. The bathroom was melting and being destroyed around them, with the silicone becoming brittle, the subway tiles starting to lose their shape, the grout crumbling, and the porcelain toilets cracking in their now-open stalls. Layla stayed in the doorway - such as it was - and wondered if the flames in her were enough to withstand the violet flames that Warren emitted. Fuck, she hoped so.

Warden One went flying through the hole in the wall beside her and Layla hurried to the office to keep him down. His clothes were gone and she could see that his body had cracked, like concrete on a sidewalk, and the analogy made Layla think of plants bursting through concrete. So that's what she did. Holding her hand above the cracks, Layla let seeds form and drop into the broken rock-like skin of the warden, the heat making the seeds sprout the instant they settled. Flowers began to grow and bloom, widening the cracks further until the warden was nothing but a pile of rocks, no longer conscious and certainly not alive.

Behind her, Warren dragged Warden Two over, purple flames flaring from his fingers which were digging into Warden Two's shoulder and leaving his fingers imprinted. The warden was still struggling, but couldn't get out of Warren's grip. Warren turned and punched with a fiery fist, punching again and again and again until the warden's body twitched and then stopped entirely. Warren saw what Layla had done to Warden One, smiling his breathtaking smile with soot smeared on his cheek. "It's gorgeous, hippie. Can I steal your idea?"

"Of course," Layla said, stepping in close as the flames died and he grew a handful of seeds, shoving them down Warden Two's throat.

Warden Two died, broken into a thousand pieces, and yet the countdown continued - ten, nine, eight...

Layla and Warren both realised that the countdown wasn't for the wardens: it was for the stampede Justina had started outside. The thundering noise that had seemed so faint only mere seconds ago became louder and the building around them shook. The structure was weakened by Warren's flames - the wardens weren't the only things that couldn't withstand temperatures of over 39,000 degrees - and the roof began to crumble down around them as the ground started to wobble beneath their feet.

"Three! Two! One!" the children screamed, even as the building collapsed in a rush of smoke and bricks, hundreds of animals storming the weakened structure and destroying it to the eager cheering of the children.

Connor and Ry jogged over to the others, all standing around Pat's car, Connor still carrying the young seer.

Beau looked at the three of them with a frown. "Where's Layla and Warren?"

...

Matron hadn't reached the ripe age of thirty-six working in a place like the organisation without knowing a few tricks of her own. She could play dead better than most, and the holes that had burned through her body had cauterised the wounds themselves, so her mind had numbed the pain after a while. Still, she didn't dare move while the intruders were in her orphanage, and it was only when she heard the man and teenager going upstairs that Matron forced herself to move outside of the building.

She couldn't look down at her body, couldn't even think about the holes burnt through her, and focused on her goal: get past the forcefield to make a call on her mobile phone. The boss wouldn't be happy at her contacting him, but he wouldn't be happy that they had intruders, either. The whole point of being out here in the middle of goddamn nowhere was that they wouldn't be found.

Stumbling down to the forest, Matron would have thanked God if she was the kind of person who believed in one. She didn't, so she didn't, and simply took her phone out and dialled the only number on it.

"Why are you calling?" her boss demanded.

Matron forced herself to straighten at his tone, letting out a hiss of pain as it pulled on seemingly every wound in her body. "I have news, Mr. A. We've been found, and... "

Matron stopped talking when she saw a sounder of wild boars. They were native to this part of France and a damn menace, which is why they had the forcefield to not only keep the children contained but also to repel animals.

"Who's found you? What's going on?"

Despite her inherent need to answer Mr. A, Matron refused to move. If she kept still and quiet, the boars would continue on until they found weaker game or prey to feed on. Slipping her phone into her pocket took all her willpower and quite a bit of strength. She couldn't stop the low moan that filtered out when the small movement reminded her just how many holes there were in her body, and the adrenaline wasn't enough to mask the pain and shock she was feeling. Unlike those block-headed wardens, the Matron still had feelings.

If she survived, she was going to get Mr. A to change her settings, Matron thought, a little hysterically, even as one of the wild boars came far too close for comfort, called by that incessant noise coming from the orphanage.

The wild boar snuffed on seeing her, eyes narrowing at the smell of blood. It charged, the rest of the sounder following at the prospect of fresh - and barbecued - meat. Matron turned to run.

She didn't get far before she was torn apart by sharp tusks and teeth.

...

"All right, lovelies. I'm here and ready to perform my magic!" Darla called loudly as she entered the building's foyer. She frowned when no one appeared to greet her and checked her wrist to make sure she had the right time.

"Ooh, hi Darla! I'll be right down," Donny called.

"Magic!"

Darla's eyes widened as far too many young children ran over, looking eager for the apparent magic show.

"Panda, Obe, Quinn, get back here! Rain and Storm, you too. Where are your brothers and sisters? I don't actually know the other two children, but I'm sure this nice lady doesn't want to be crowded. Everyone step back, please," Decima said, enough authority in her voice for the seven children to step back obediently. "Thank you, dears. Hello. I'm Decima. Are you moving in?"

"Not that I know, but who knows with Honey?" Darla muttered.

The elevator dinged behind the crowd of brightly-coloured children, and Darla waved to Donny, glad for the familiar face.

"Decima, this is Darla. There's been a delay with the others, but come on through. The adults are trying to kill me. Um, not literally," Donny added with a wince when several children looked up at him in confusion.

"We want to see magic!"

"Rain, Storm, there you are!" Bader called, running over and stopping short when he saw Decima. "Uh... Hi, Mami."

"This is how you're looking after your baby brother and sister?" Decima asked, hands on her hips.

"Aleph was... "

"You cannot blame Aleph for everything, Bader," Decima said.

"I know, Mami. Aleph is with a girl," Bader hissed, nodding over to the elevators where Aleph was talking with Thana.

Decima's eyes widened at the sight of her eldest with a woman. She narrowed them then turned to look at her second-eldest child. "That has nothing to do with you losing Storm and Rain, Bader. Do not distract me with your brother's - "

"These are her children, Diablo and Damien," Bader added, grinning when her mouth dropped open.

"¿Una madre?" Decima murmured, eyes wide. (A mother? Spanish)

"Si. He knows," Bader added quietly.

"Did you find them, Bade? Ah, Mami," Eos said, wincing. "You told her about Aleph?"

"Of course. Shh," Bader said.

Candra and Daren practically barrelled into their sister, murmuring when they saw Decima making her "who is in trouble for this latest mess?" face. Candra started to back up to return to the playground, but Decima held up a finger and Candra froze, wincing.

"No, niña. Do not go."

Donny learnt more new swear words in Spanish in that second than he'd learnt from Jared in six months.

Aleph grinned at Thana, turning to go to her car for the last of her belongings - including, but not limited to, a Hazmat suit and a suitcase that was apparently full of blood samples - and stopped short on seeing his mother, looking at Bader with her "someone is in trouble, I just don't know who, yet" expression.

"Die? Dame? What's going on?" Thana asked, trying to ignore the tense atmosphere as she ran over to her children, kneeling in front of them to hold their cheeks and check their temperatures as well as their pupils.

"We're fine, Mama. We're going to see a magic show!" Damien said eagerly.

Thana looked up and saw the magician, holding back a laugh when she saw the panicked expression on the poor dear's face. "Oh, I think you've made a mistake, Dame, sweetie. She's not a magician, she's an artist."

Darla breathed a sigh of relief. The only magic trick she knew was not suitable for young eyes. Art, now that was her forte.

Decima looked from the woman kneeling with her two boys over to her eldest and saw that Aleph was still watching her, and not distracted by anything or anyone else like he usually was with other girls. Maybe he really did like her, she mused. Narrowing her eyes, she went over to Aleph and took his arm. "Come, we'll talk."

"But Mami - "

"Bader, help the lady," Decima called over her shoulder, leading Aleph away without waiting for a further response.

"Is everything all right, Bader?" Thana asked, frowning after the bright-haired woman, and stood up, brushing her knees off.

"Fine, Thana. Mami just needs Aleph to help her with something."

"Can you paint our faces?" Oberon asked Darla, eyes wide and eager.

"Of course I can, sweetheart."

"I want a unicorn!" Pandora said eagerly.

"I wanted a unicorn!" Quinn cried.

"You can have different unicorns, sweethearts. Also, just out of curiosity and certainly not desperation, Donny: how long until everyone arrives?" Darla asked.

Donny winced. "That's the million dollar question, Darla. I'll get Wendy to help with the face painting, too," he said, knowing that everyone would be roped into decorating the children's faces until the others arrived.

Darla wasn't the only one hoping it would be sooner rather than later.

...

Steve woke up, but didn't bother to get up. He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to think about everything with a clear head. It was difficult to achieve, especially since he felt red hot anger boiling his blood every time he thought of his wife of twenty years cheating on him with a citizen like the Mayor.

Maybe there was a reasonable explanation? The media liked to blow things out of proportion all the time. They'd done something similar after his father's funeral, trying to get him to sleep with a buxom blonde while he was still grieving. The headlines of him talking to the woman in a bar had sold more papers than his father's death. Obviously, the media were doing something similar now, trying to instigate an argument between him and Josie. Maybe there was a news slump?

There was a gentle knock at the door, Steve making a noise in response, and looking over to see Josie looking through the gap before she opened it fully.

"Are you all right, Steve?" she asked, hesitant about entering the room like she hadn't been since their wedding night.

Steve made another noise - not a yes, not a no - and forced himself to sit up. He had a million questions running through his head, but only one came out. "Why?"

Josie licked her lips as she entered the bedroom, sitting at the end of the bed where Steve's feet had bulged the blanket. She had thought about this ever since Steve first went to bed, and had decided her best plan of attack was to mix the truth with a lie. "Trixie sold that skyscraper, which we both know was a government-listed building. I wanted to meet with the Mayor to discuss the sale, since we're meant to have first preference of government real estate over her, and he told me to meet him at The Plantation. I thought it was going to be a business meeting, since places like that often have executive meeting rooms."

All mostly true so far, and Josie breathed a shuddering breath, knowing that this next part would be the most difficult. It all depended on whether Steve believed her more than the media.

"I went there and the Mayor... he... " she breathed another shuddering deep breath, her voice more of a sob than anything else. "He knew I'd be there... He exposed himself to me."

The anger that Steve had been feeling earlier was a drop in the ocean compared to what he felt in that moment. He stood out of bed and started to pace, deep footprints embedding in the thick carpet.

"Steve? Dear? Are you all right?" Josie asked, alarmed by his expression and the fact he was putting holes in their super-thick carpet. It had been designed specifically so the Commander couldn't put his footprints in it!

"No. He... He did that to you. I can't believe it! I can't believe we let him into our house, and played golf with him, and he does this. It's... it's disgusting. I'm going to make him pay," Steve snarled, anger twisting his face into something unrecognisable.

Josie blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected this sort of response. "Is... is that necessary, dear? The media are hounding him for it - "

"And blaming you, when you were innocent in all of this! They should be ashamed! I'm going to set this right, right now!" Steve snapped, stomping out of the room.

Josie wondered if she'd taken it a bit too far, but flew after her husband before he could stomp his way through the house. "Steve, put pants on first, dear!"

...

End of the hundred and fifty-first chapter.

Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it!