Chapter XXIV: A Time of Reveals


AN:

Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!

Yep. The window gag is back again, and it's the progenitor of it all. :D

Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.


Having passed off my lead to those I could trust, I just had to wait for that to pan out. I had another lead to track down though, and with Stan's help, I found him.

The idiot was futzing around the Portland Docks and I spotted him immediately. His red suit certainly was... distinctive. I found him perched on a shipping container, watching a large cargo ship coming in to dock. Of course, it was decorated with the familiar Prescott logo. I dropped down behind him without a sound and just... watched him for a second or two. Something about him felt... intent. You know when someone is really paying attention to something and you can see everything in them completely focusing on this one thing? He was like that.

So, I scared the living daylights out of him.

He almost screamed.

With an impressively fast spin, he wheeled around to punch me. I caught his hand and held him back, giving him a second to see my mask.

He dropped his hand and glared at me. Again, not that I could see his face. He just seemed emotional, and signaled those emotions so strongly even I could pick up on them. "You fucking bitch."

I let go of his hand and stepped back - out of reach. For a moment, it looked like he was going to follow me and try again, but he seemed to think better of it. Instead, he just met my eye and snarled "Don't do that again."

I gave a short, sharp nod. His voice roughed-up in some odd sound that was probably irritation before he tossed his head in a way that made me think he was definitely rolling his eyes. Asshole.

Still, an asshole that helped me. Wait. That message... Who else could it be? I should say something.

"Thanks." He looked at me, tilted his head to the side. "For the tablet." I clarified. "It's going to help me a lot."

He shrugged. "You helped me, so I help you. I don't like owing people. Leave it at that."

I nodded. That made sense to me. We both stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the ship get closer to the dockside. By my guess, it was probably another two or more hours until it was fully docked - the tugboats were out and guiding the vessel into the berth.

"Why do you do this?" He said suddenly, "And don't feed me that bullshit about thievery this time. I saw some of your papers, y'know - you're looking into missing people?"

You got me, Cal. Shit. I guess I can't get out of saying something.

"The Prescotts..." I muttered, "They made me what I am today. One of their fucked up little projects. I'm going to stop them doing what they did to me to anyone else."

He clicked his fingers in a sudden eureka moment. "Oh, you're one of the Peninsula Experiments, right? Out in Purgatory, or whatever they call it?"

I blinked at him. He knows about the- "Did you..?"

"Me?" He snorted, and I could practically taste the derision. "Nah. I'm all tech, baby. Just me and my doodads is all I need. But I know about the Island. Fucked up place, eh?"

I didn't dignify that with a response. Honestly, I think it was mostly rhetorical anyway. After another few long minutes, he asked- "Did you fight any cool mutants on there?"

"They're people, not Pokemon." I snapped.

He stared at me again. "You know about Pokemon? Seriously?"

"They were around before I was on the Island."

"Oh, shit. Yeah. Still. Same question. We've got forty minutes to kill, might as well share some war stories. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"Perv."

He laughed.

I rolled my eyes and indulged him. "Okay, so there was an offshoot on one of the higher peaks - eight foot tall and covered in fur, like a Wampa. I was sent out to hunt it down-"

For the next forty minutes, we swapped stories. Mine were often more... exciting than his, but I got to find out where the name Cal came from. Turns out, it was short for 'Caliban'.

"When I was a kid, it was always me and my Mom. She was kind of a bitch too, but she'd got a lot of shit going on. Y'know, in her head. At least I knew she cared." His voice went dark. "When she died... it kinda fucked me up. And then my Dad sauntered back into my life and just... took over." He shook his head, grumbling a long series of swear words and insults. "Always felt kinda like Caliban. Getting ordered about by some asshole he barely knows, thrown a bunch of 'do this, do that' shit before getting shoved back in his cave when he wasn't needed anymore." He snorted. "I'll save you the rest of the fucked up sob story - My dad was involved with the Prescotts, they ruined my life through him and now I'm going to tear that Company apart and make them all watch, and then I'm going to put a bullet through his fucking head!"

Cal went quiet, breathing hard. I didn't respond.

The awkward silence was broken as a horn sounded on the ship and the people aboard jumped into action. Man. That was a quick two hours. Cal stood with a groan and started stretching his arms and legs. He moved oddly tenderly, like he was injured. "Right. Off to work, then."

"Anything I can help with?" Oh, right. "No need to pay me back. I just need something to do while I wait for leads on my end."

He eyed me, then sighed. "Fine. There's a lot of them on that boat and I could use the back-up. But I will owe you one. Next time you wanna break in a place, a Prescott place, you call me. Got it?"

I nodded. "Got it."

"We're looking for container PRSU 092108 6." He handed me a print-out of a satellite image. One container was circled. He tapped it. "Looks like that. Got it?"

I nodded again. "Got it."

He snorted. "Keep that up, this might work out."


*Flashback Begins*

She had been brought to the executive staff meeting, called in by Prescott himself. The large box he'd demanded she carry was a subject of some resentment, but she couldn't help her interest in being present here. The twelve people who controlled the major functions and locations of the Island all sat around one table. Even with the Hunter controlled, it was a tempting target.

The room was one of the highest points on the mountain. Towering windows along one wall showed the vast drop beneath them and gave a spectacular view of the mutant-city below. Both walls to either side held large portraits of figures she didn't recognise, and pieces of free-standing art were scattered about the room. All of them were hefty, and in easy reach. She placed the box where instructed - right at Prescott's side - and moved over to the side wall to take a guard position.

Everyone in the room seemed nervous, staring up at Prescott standing at the head of the table, both his hands planted on its surface, clenched tightly into fists. "As you may know, there was an incident a few months ago. Several files were copied or stolen. And there have been multiple incidents since. Incidents of espionage." Max had been productive. "People who are trying to sabotage the fine work you and your people do here."

"And we still have no idea who is at fault?" Ratigan asked.

"On the contrary. I have found the traitor, Doctor." Prescott stared right at him, eyes laser-focused on the now nervous Dr Ratigan Moreau.

"If you are implying that I-"

Prescott snorted. "No. Not you." And like the burning eye of Sauron, Prescott's gaze turned to her. "But your creation has something to answer for."

Max froze.

Of all the many things she could've done, that was the worst. Every person in that room's eyes narrowed on her in an instant. They may have been executives, scientists, soldiers by trade, but all of them were politicians by necessity. Reading people was just one of those things they had to do to survive on this island.

And they read her with ease.

She didn't feel the first bullet hit her, nor the second. The third, though. Even the Hunter felt that one strike her, tear into her skin. Prescott hadn't moved, just smiled wolf-shark sharp as he watched her teeter for a moment. The security staff that'd burst in watched as well. If she'd still been human, she would've fallen, then. The movies always get it wrong. It's not the bullet that drops you, it's your response to it. Shock. Clumsiness. Confusion. Panic.

Max looked up and met Prescott's eye. His lips quirked into a cruel grin. "I'm impressed, Max. That's quite the endurance you have there. I'm told that those bullets would take down a rampaging hippopotamus." He snorted. "Maybe I should get the boys from the lab back to the drawing board on that one." With a sigh, he reached down and pulled the box up onto the table, flicking the clasps and easing it open. "Bring her up here."

She didn't see whatever it was he was removing from the box. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. With a feral scream, she launched herself forward. Her brain was focused on only one thing - escape!

She couldn't go backwards - this was the heart of the Mountain, she'd never make it. So, forwards it was.

She sprinted forward. Her senses were running on overdrive - a click of a gun, left! Another click, right! She leapt onto the table, still gaining speed, and ran right for the smug, superior prick at the head of everything.

She collided with him with all the force of that rampaging hippopotamus and matched his own wide grin with one of her own, her blood-stained teeth contrasting wildly with his pearly whites. Another bullet-crack behind her, then another. A shout. "Don't shoot our CEO!"

A crash, as her mad charge took the both of them right out those spectacular, expensive windows.

As they flew through the air, only one thought occurred to her - this was awesome!


She slowed at the approach to the first town. Her ribs, her joints, her everything were still tender. She couldn't afford a confrontation. So, she kept to the outskirts, and waited. Watched. It was a quiet place, one of many small communities where people came together to survive under the Prescott yoke. Various mutants of various sizes, shapes, and limb-layout lived and worked through the fields around the town. It looked to be a peaceful place.

She found a nearby tree and holed up in the branches, using the foliage to hide herself. She wrapped one leg around the branch below her and let herself doze off. A short nap would help restore her for the rest of her journey.

She was awoken by loud yelling.

Three soldiers in crude uniforms were standing in the middle of the town, shouting to a crowd. "This village is in default! You owe tax to your Lord!"

One of the mutants in the crowd yelled back "We don't owe that bastard anything! At least the Prescotts actually protected us!"

The lead soldier paused for a moment, then pointed at the shouting man. One of the other two swiftly pulled up their gun and shot the man dead. The crowd made angry sounds, but slowly subsided as both soldiers pointed their guns out into the crowd. "In two days, we will return to collect what you owe. If you do not pay, we will take one of you every two days until you do."

They left on that high note, and the village gathered in silence around their fallen member. Max waited for a respectful opening to make her own way into the village. She found someone and asked "Who were those men?"

"Agents of 'Lord Valli'." The mutant, a short person covered in purple-green hair, answered. The use of the title wasn't respectful.

"Valli?" She asked, open disbelief. She knew the mutant was ambitious, but she'd never have expected this from him. "Sardori Valli?"

"Yes." The mutant looked askance at her. "Where have you been? He controls almost two thirds of the entire archipelago now. All of the smaller islands are his. He's worse than the Prescotts ever were." The mutant spat on the ground.

"What did they mean they'd take people? What do they do with them?"

The mutant shrugged, shaking their head with a scowl and a growl. "We don't know. It's been months. They get taken and we never see them again."

Max cursed, low and dark. If it hadn't been for her years of experience with the Prescotts, she probably wouldn't have assumed. Too much exposure to monstrous men and psychopathic scientists had taught her well. If they just wanted fear, they'd've shot them in front of people. That they took them away? Darker things were happening here. "I'm sorry."

"It is how it is." The mutant suddenly narrowed their eyes and looked Max up and down. "What are you doing in these parts, anyway? You don't look like a Prescott agent."

"I'm on the run and headed north. I got injured though - fell off a ledge. Do you have a place for me to rest? My mutation will take care of my injuries, I just need some time." The mutant visibly hesitated, so Max continued. "I can pay in barter, or if you give me time to rest I can go and take out whatever problem you've got that Valli's men won't."

The mutant eyed her. "Fine. Go to the mill and ask for Alice. Tell them you'll help us with the issues in the Warrens."

She nodded, thanked the mutant, and scurried off to find this Alice. She'd take care of whatever was happening in the Warrens, then go to find Valli. Whatever had happened, she'd get to the bottom of it. Her ribs twinged, and she amended - she'd hunt after she'd had time to heal. She had thrown herself off a mountain, after all.

*Flashback Ends*


"What in the hell is this? Where did you get this?"

I whirled suddenly to see Brooke storming over to me, holding... the... tablet. I almost grinned - it only took her a fucking day to get in? The Stranger is gonna be so thrilled. Oh, wait. No. Something was open on the screen, with the Prescott logo fully visible.

"Ah, fuck."

"Where did you get this?" She repeated. I just fish-mouthed at her. Open, close, open, close. "It's full of... god, some horrific Dan-Brown-level conspiracy shit. We need to take this to the cops."

That snapped me out of my funk. "No. Not in this shithole town. You take that to the cops here and it'll be back in Presc-dick's hands before you leave the fucking station." I sighed. Shit. "Look, I have this... friend? They're investigating shit, we take it to them, they can actually do something good with it. You in?"

Brooke stared at me for a few long moments. "Fine."


Chloe crept slowly into the room, metaphorical hat in her hand. I hadn't seen her look this guilty since the Wine Incident. Something had gone wrong. She walked up to the table and shuffled awkwardly before- "So, you know how I said I could get someone to hack that tablet and it'd be totally fine?"

"Yes?" I asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"It wasn't fine. Brooke wants in."

There we go. I gently massaged my temple and cursed my developing headache. "Damnit."