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Automatic laser artillery splayed across the chamber. Upon impact with the floor, wall, crate, etc. the energy beam would leave a small, compact hole. So far, only inanimate objects had been vaporized, but Warren's beloved leather jacket had suffered a close call.

It was tedious work, render one laser cannon inoperable, advance downhill twenty feet, repeat the same process. A ghost of a smile flittered across Warren' face as Steve Stronghold glared fiercely at the pulverized rock and liquefied ceiling tiles as if they were responsible for Will's abduction. If Will was here his gaze would be volleying from paterfamilias to the debris, all wide-eyed and doubt filled.

The operation had started off textbook perfect -- at least that's what Stark said. Not having actually read the textbook, Warren took his word for it. The hovercrafts had landed about 11:30 pm. Command did have the best toys. Marianne Williamson headed up the espionage team. Warren counted seven in total. He'd learned about them from Stark's dossier. Eric Bolstrom was Hero/Tech. His talent was a creepy Borg-like interface with computers. Mike Stephens and Aiko Takarada were Hero contortionists -- a stupid moniker but that's Command for you. The duo could twist and flip their bodies in ways which would have added another chapter to the Kama Sutra.

A rodent faced man stood at Williamson's elbow. She'd called him Spall. He was loaded down like a pack mule. If that was his power the locker room must have been a bitch.

Warren would bet his My Chemical Romance collection that the tall dude with the ice pick eyes was a mindbender of some type.

Peace knew the last member; a cheerful, plump woman named Callie McNickels because she alone had introduced herself to Warren. She was a healer.

They seemed a competent bunch. They'd obviously trained together long term.

Takarada leaped forward, twisting in the air like a platform diver at competition. Something dropped from her fist just before she ricocheted off the ceiling. Three more back flips landed her next to Warren. She flashed him an impish smile. He arched one eyebrow in return. Asian woman could spike his temp an extra ten degrees. An Asian contortionist . . . good thing the room was dark.

Williamson stepped forward and powered up her extended force field. Everyone shielded his or her eyes.

The granade obliterated the unarmed cannons and three fourths of the wall. A disheartening moaning/rumbling sound reverberated around the room. Warren doubted his leather jacket would survive a cave in.

Williamson dropped her force field. The espionage team advanced forward. Josie placed a restraining hand on her husband's arm. The Commander followed second to Presidents and Prime Ministers and members of the Supreme Council.

"They've gotten us this far," she whispered consolingly.

Like Noah, they traveled two by two along the rough concrete corridor. Spall was scanning the environment for a hundred different dangerous threats. Bolstrom stuck close to the telepath.

Finally they came to an archway. A smallish man, made distinct by his ordinary features was smoking a cigarette. "Chief," he greeted Williamson, crushing the cancer stick beneath his sneaker heel.

"Peters," she wasted no time with good manners. "Status."

"I've disabled all the alarms and defense mechanisms I'm aware of -- which is most of them. I wouldn't put it past Maximus to have a few tricks up his sleeve. I've incapacitated Jon Alters and one of the hired thugs. I don't know where the other is, but he is not a Metahuman. Hendrickson is also unaccounted for. Maximus is holed up in his lab. As far as I know, the Scarlet Witch is in a bedroom sleeping. I believe her sidekick is with her. It's marked 2Aon the map.

Everyone glanced down at an electronic layout of the facility. Warren didn't have one of his own so he looked over Josie Stronghold's shoulder.

As soon as Peters paused for breath, Steve and Josie jumped in.

"My son, where is he?"

Peters acknowledged the couple for the first time. "Your boy and Ms. Williams are fine. I can take you to them."

Six simple words. After all the agonizing fear and dread, was it really going to be that easy.

Williamson opened her mouth, probably to argue. The Commander cleared his throat.

"Just give me a minute," she said. The espionage team huddled together. Peters was obviously giving them directions. After a few minutes he turned, motioned to Stark and led them down one corridor. Williamson led the espionage team in the opposite direction.

Steve's super strength came in handy as he manually pulled metal door after door off its hinges. It seemed to make him happy. After doing this five or six times they reached a flight of concrete stairs.

Josie looked at her watch, nine minutes had gone by.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Maximus watched from the temporary safety of his laboratory as the Command team rushed past his defenses. What does it taste like to have your existence wink to nothingness, to watch your dreams drowned like a lame kitten."

It tastes like bitter almonds. Maximus's poison of choice. It wouldn't kill him, but it would allow him to avoid the embarrassment of being arrested. There were enough Heroes who would tap his skills, even in jail -- especially in jail for him to not despair.

He had a back door of course, but that too had been compromised. He might have been able to salvage the situation if he could have reached the Stronghold boy, but the prisoners' cell was on the opposite end of the complex. He would run right into the government men, and probably the boy's parents.

Roger was still out there somewhere. If Maximus knew him at all, the electricity villain would take a few people down with him.

A sonic boom caused him to flinch. "This is Hero Command, surrender and release your hostages and you will be taken into custody. We are authorized to use lethal force."

And that's what you get for touching family, Maximus finished the sentence.

He went over to examine his console. From what he could tell, the defense grid was shut down. When the grid went down, gas would automatically be released into the complex. In high concentrations, it could be dangerous.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"You son of a bitch," Lightening Bolt sent a power stream at Peters. He'd ambushed the rescue party. Whether he had a plan or was just striking in anger, Stark didn't know and wasn't going to take a chance. He raised his weapon to fire, but Steve Stronghold beat him to the punch, literally.

There was a sickening crunch as the man's skull was shattered.

Josie's had picked up on the telltale signs of gas in the corridor five minutes ago. She had monitored the concentration, but nothing else. Getting out the masks would have slowed them down.

As soon as the powerful volt of electricity was released she knew what could happen.

The Strongholds and Stark were wearing fire repellent clothes. Thanks to genetics, Warren didn't need to bother. Peters was wearing frayed jeans. He screamed as his pant's leg burst into flame.

Warren, sensing the flame before it barely existed, beat frantically on Peters's leg. Stark slung off his jacket to help smother the fire.

It was over in a minute. Josie rooted around in her med kit for cooling gel. She picked up a pair of scissors to cut away the charred material. Peters whimpered, but he nodded for her to continue. She applied the anesthetic gel.

"So, will I still be able to tango."

"It doesn't look so bad," Josie told him.

"Does anybody see a anti locking device? I must have dropped it."

Warren looked around. There was a piece of deformed metal on the floor. It was sizzling. He picked it up and held it in front of Peters. The man closed his eyes. "Fuck it all."

"Let me guess." Warren flung the key away. It was worthless. "We needed that to get to Will and Layla." Six simple words my ass.

"We don't need a key." Warren had heard that deep baritone in his dreams when he was little. Barron, I declare you a threat to society.

"You don't understand." With Warren's help Peters climbed to his feet. "Will is chained to the wall by the most advanced titanium leg brace. He's pulled on it every minute Layla slept. He did manage to loosen some of the screws, but it's still secure. " He gestured down at the molten lump of metal on the gray floor. "That was the manacle's key. There isn't a duplicate available."

The Commander brushed away the man's concerns. "Our combined strength should be sufficient."

The rest of the party wasn't as sure, but what choice did they have?"

"We should get a move on," Stark said. He glanced uneasily behind him. "Warren, assist Peters. Which way do we go?"

"Keep moving down this corridor, then turn right. We're close."

They started off. Warren trailing last. He looked at Peters. "Is there something else?"

"I doused them with a strept pneumoniae infection."

Warren's brows knitted together.

"Desperate times. Things were getting out of control. I didn't expect her."

"The Scarlet Witch."

"First class bitch. She was sinking her claws into the Stronghold kid. He's got a 102 fever and is only partially coherent. We can get the girl out, no problem, but I don't think he'll be able to power up."

"Just leave that to me," Warren said grimly.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Steve ripped open the door with such force that it took part of the wall with it. His wife was right behind him.

They were unprepared for the sight that met them. Warren, hampered with supporting a lame man, hadn't been able to warn the Strongholds of what Peters had done. Warren heard Mrs. Stronghold's half-fearful, half exasperated scream and speeded up.

"Will," she scrambled over to her prone son. The kids were laying haphazardly on a tatty mattress. Both barefoot, Will was wearing navy blue shorts and a navy blue sweatshirt. Layla was half twisted in a blanket. Steve shook him by the shoulders.

"hmmm," Will turned over and opened his eyes. To Josie, he looked more confused than normal - which Josie knew was saying something.

"Damn. The gas must be have been trapped in this room." She looked at the dull gray concrete, the dirty floor, the empty cereal boxes and paper plates. The air was stale. The room was despair given three dimensions. All it needed was a window slowing a bubbling lava lake and some dismembered corpses.

Her baby had been trapped in this hellhole for three days. Tears welled up in her eyes. She'd spent countless hours insuring that her son turned out well adjusted and happy. Had some asshole just wiped that away?

Josie took a deep breath and adopted her SuperHero personae. She couldn't afford to turn into a quivering wreck. She placed her fingers on his carotid artery. "His pulse is racing. What about Layla?"

Warren dropped down by her, reaching for her wrist. "I can't tell if it's fast or not. Come on hippie." If anything, she seemed to be in worse shape than Will. At least his eyes were opened. Warren grabbed a notebook from under his knee. It looked like Layla had been writing something. His eyes ran over the paper. It seemed to be addressed to her mom.

Under his father's constant prodding, Will had finally opened his eyes.

"Mom. I heard fighting." He started to cough.

A flash of red on the floor caught Warren's attention. He reached over to touch the strands of hair littering the floor. He looked questioningly at Peters.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you after my first shot of Morphine."

"You'll be free in a minute." The Commander braced his feet against the floor. He picked up the chain confining his son, took a deep breath, and pulled.

The metal held. He pulled again. Like a car wreck on the highway, everyone's gaze was fixed on the chain. Even Will was paying attention. He gritted his teeth. Steve pulled until he felt his shoulder might pop from its socket.

Nothing.

"This," he gasped a bit for air, "might take a bit."

Suddenly an explosion sounded from down the hallway. Stark and Warren ran to investigate. Josie had moved Will's head to her lap, caressing his brown hair. He tried to sit up a bit.

"Dad," he croaked out. "I've been trying to break that for three days."

"I can tell," the ring of nasty bruises along Will's ankle hadn't gone unnoticed.

Stark and Warren returned, looking grim. "There's fire all down two corridors. We have to leave soon or we'll be cut off."

Steve dropped the chain. He rested his hands on his knees for a minute, then turned to Peters. "You know the way out of here."

The other man nodded. "Warren, take Layla and go. Josie," he turned to his wife, his partner for twenty odd years. "You should go too. I'll follow as soon as I free Will."

She stared back. "No."

Time was running out. Steve placed his gloved hand on her arm. "Josie."

She wasn't hysterical or crying or coldly detached. "I couldn't live if I lost you both."

Watching them, Warren felt like a voyeur. Steve's voice sounded strangled. "Warren, take Layla and go. We'll follow you shortly."

Warren snorted. "Dad always said you had an ego the size of downtown Maxville. You're so caught up with being the big hero that you don't think. Stark, you carry Layla. I might need my hands free. Mrs. Stronghold, you help Peters. Commander, grab the chain and be ready to pull."

"But what," Steve began. Warren ignored him. His let his right hand flame orange.

Will, this is gonna hurt you a lot more than me

His left hand pulled up Will's pants leg and placed his burning hand on Will's exposed skin.

Josie yelled at him to stop. Warren ignored her. Will jerked upright, adrenaline doing what nothing else could. His eyes opened wide, typical Stronghold surprised expression. Next Warren practically throttled him. His hand had only cooled slightly. "Stronghold."

Will was having flashbacks to freshman year when he thought Peace was going to bar-b-que him alive. He trembled in the pyro's grip.

There was a wild expression on his face. "You are going to help your father pull this wretched chain out of the wall. There's fire moving to us and nobody is leaving until you do. That includes Layla. Understand."

Will, his face ashen, reached forward. Steve, numb from seeing Warren in action, followed suit.

"On three, Will." Josie said "One, two," she drew a breath, "three."

Warren held his breath. They only had one chance at this before Will passed out.

Father and son pulled. At first here was nothing, then suddenly a bolt rattled. The Commander doubled his efforts. Will couldn't double his.

With a satisfying pop, the chain snapped away from the wall.

Will fell back into his mother's arm.

Stark picked up Layla. Her head lolled against his shoulder. Steve looped the chain around his arm then slung Will over his shoulder.

Peters directed them to the last safe passage.