Not to ignore the other storylines, but the next two chapters shall take place in the Buckeye state, because that's where the action's at, baby. There will be a catch-up chappie later on, though.
9. Ohioan Standoff, part one
When you're facing a brick wall in an alley one second and then blink to find yourself in an open, green, pollution-less Ohio city park, you're pretty much inclined towards exuberant and astounded yelling, no matter what time of day it is.
"That was bloody fantastic!" Claude shouted, after about half a minute of speechless wonder. He gave Hiro an admiring look. "I mean, good God, actually teleportin' your bloomin' atoms clean across 600 miles…and that wasn't even teleportin' them across 600 years! You truly are someone special, friend, and I mean that." He added another commendation in Japanese, and Hiro grinned slightly, starting to warm up to the strange Englishman's charm.
Peter—you know, the empath who could probably do what Hiro did with some practice—gave Claude an annoyed shove in the shoulder. "For an invisible man, you sure don't know how to keep your voice down," he whispered irritably, pulling out his map and walking out under some park lights. "Could you shut up for a sec while I figure out where the hell we are?"
Claude shrugged, continuing to converse enthusiastically with Hiro in Japanese.
"So who in your family is in trouble, Peter?" Hiro asked, after a while.
"Yeah," Claude added, "and who in the Petrelli clan hails from the Midwest, anyway?"
"It's…" Peter paused momentarily, suddenly realizing that if he mentioned Claire and her last name, Claude would react badly and, well, might just abandon them. Peter wasn't the brightest at drawing conclusions, but he could pick out potentially volatile situations when he saw them.
"It's my niece Jodi, she's Nathan's long lost daughter," he covered, and Claude even leered at the 'long lost daughter' bit. It worked, obviously, but he knew it was going to be a hell of a shitty lie in the end.
"Who's after them, then?" Claude asked. Now with this, Peter couldn't lie fast enough. Claude understood his fumbling silence immediately. "The Company," he confirmed, looking solemn. "Still at it, of course."
"Sorry," said Hiro, "But what is the Company?"
"A bit like Sylar, but populous, methodical, and far tidier about terrorizing people like us," he explained. "Dealing with that organization is not a pleasant experience."
Peter looked at Claude, cautious. "…You're not going to run out on me again because of them, are you?"
He laughed humorlessly. "Where am I supposed to run? I'm not exactly familiar with Ohio, and moreover, I have standing business with you two regarding Sylar. I think I have to stick around for the time being, I'm afraid, seeing as how you insist on paying grossly undue attention to your distractions."
"Don't you dare bring up that 'distractions' crap again," said Peter, ignoring the smirk Claude gave him and instead examining the map again. "Oh wait, I know where we are! We're only about five miles west of their neighborhood, on this street right here. Can you hone in on this, Hiro?"
Hiro glanced at the map, and nodded. "Piece of cake!" he exclaimed, grabbing both men and squinting.
"Electric company!" said the voice from the door. "Anyone home?"
"Go downstairs and check on everyone," Claire's father instructed, watching the door as he quietly screwed a silencer onto his gun. "And try calling Peter again."
"Don't you have any more guns in the house?" she asked, receiving the kind of 'are you out of your mind?' look any parent would give to that question. "Dad, come on, you can't hold off these people by yourself!" she argued. "We don't even know how many are outside!"
The caller at the door piped up again. "The neighborhood's had a power outage tonight! We're going around the neighborhood, making sure no one's hurt!" The voice dropped. "We know you're home, the cars are parked out here." The man's voice picked up the concern again. "Is everyone alright?"
Bennet's jaw clenched as he continued to listen. "There's a glock in the kitchen, stuck under the sink," he said at last. "And the taser's still downstairs, give it to your mother."
Claire crept quietly through the living room, and although all the blinds were drawn, she ducked behind couches and furniture anyway as she made her way to the kitchen. She opened the cabinet beneath the sink, retrieved the weapon, and snuck back over to the basement door, her father remaining completely still as she passed him.
"Why do you get to have a gun?" Lyle whined, when Claire entered. "Mom-"
"—Lyle, don't even think about asking if you can use a pistol," his mother told him, fingers at her temples as Mr. Muggles jumped out of her lap. "You know, Claire, your dad's doing a good job defeating the purpose of our parent lectures."
"I asked for it, if that makes it any better," said Claire, putting the gun down on a table and sitting down next to her. She looked over at where Lyle was staring, at a pair of legs lying behind some boxes. "How is he?" She asked quietly.
"Still asleep. But I think your brother's having a fun time playing guard over there." She pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry about Rodrigo, Claire."
Claire watched Mr. Muggles trot around in between her and her mother's feet. "At least he wasn't another Brody. Still…wish I could've seen it coming."
Mrs. Bennet sighed. "Honey, there are a lot of things you can't see coming. The best we can do is roll with the punches once they hit, and just hope for the best."
She nodded with hesitant acknowledgment. "I'm going to call Peter and check up on where he is." She pulled out her phone. "Peter?"
"Heya Claire, how's it going?"
"Well, we're sort of hiding in the basement from gun-toting intruders right now, so in other words, not much."
Peter snorted. "Hey, don't worry, we're about two blocks away, we'll be there soon. We don't see a soul outside, though."
"Wait, you brought people along?"
"Ah, you know, just some friends I ran into once I got back to New York. We're invisible though, don't worry. Where…family…now…"
Claire plugged her other ear with her free hand. "Peter, you're breaking up, what did you say? ...Peter?" She looked at her mom. "That's weird, the call dropped."
"You get any bars out here?" Peter asked, catching up with his two companions. "The line just went dead."
"Seeing as how I'm an invisible misanthropic homeless man, I'm guessing you meant to ask Hiro that," said Claude, continuing to walk off into the dark street. "And since he probably doesn't possess one of those newfangled phones that gets reception in 17th century Japan, I think your question's going to go unanswered."
Hiro at least tried to be remotely helpful. "I think your phone is being sabotaged, Peter. They could be …" he struggled to find the translation. "I think, jamming it, or stopping the reception."
"Then they know we're here," he concluded, as they stopped on the corner. "Alright, this is the street."
"Someone is at the door!" Hiro exclaimed, squinting in the darkness. "Two people!"
"There's probably more 'round the back," Claude observed. "It's a family of…what, four? Five? In such situations, the Company usually deploys another two-man team. I don't think either one has gotten in yet." He took his hand off Hiro's shoulder and walked out into the street. "Right then, I'll take the front team, you two can teleport to the backyard and dispatch the other team."
Peter lunged over to grab Hiro, before he could come back into plain sight under the open moonlight. "Claude, what the hell?" Peter whispered, furious. "That's not a plan! And how are you going to handle two people by yourself?"
Claude turned around, rolling his eyes in exasperation. From behind, he reached into his long overcoat and pulled out a broad, magnificent, stainless steel machete. "Don't get your panties in a wad, Mum, I've got protection. I'll not be impregnating anyone tonight."
The Brit certainly earned the dumbfounded stares this time. "Where…where did you get a machete?" Peter asked.
"Chinatown, of course," he explained, brandishing the blade so that the moonlight dazzled off brilliantly. "What, you think I was gonna run around New York defenseless when a guy's fixin' to hack the top of my skull off? Besides, I've dealt with these people before. I've got this taken care of." Claude trotted off back towards the house. "Anyway, don't teleport directly inside, you might startle them! Just stick to the plan, and holler if you get into any trouble!"
"Dammit," Peter cursed, as Claude ran off to stalk behind a neighbor's hedge. "He's still such a jackass."
"He is a very strange man," Hiro noted, "but I think he can take care of himself."
"Yeah, but so can we!" he said indignantly. "I seriously think he's trying to stick it to us." He sighed. "Alright then, I think we need to teleport just outside the backyard first, so we can check things out…"
"Ohh!!" Hiro suddenly yelled, a bright orange flare reflecting in his glasses. Peter spun around.
There was a mushroom cloud hanging over the park.
It wasn't enormous, like the explosion Peter had created miles above New York. Though only extending about thirty feet into the sky, the blast still lit up the night, receding after a few moments of orange-yellow illumination.
"It looks like…like another nuclear explosion," said Peter, looking over at his gape-mouthed friend.
"Is it Sylar?" Hiro asked, anxiety returning to his eyes. Peter shook his head uncertainly. "If it is, then we must go to him," he said resolutely.
"No!" Peter said immediately, actually surprised at the notion. "What about Claire's family? And Claude?"
"Claire?" Hiro repeated.
"My niece," Peter corrected himself, unconcerned. "Look, I don't think we…" He didn't finish, because suddenly he was torn.
Sylar needed to be dealt with, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. Should he go to the Bennets' and let Hiro handle Sylar himself? Hiro did manage to impale the guy back at Kirby. Still, Peter felt less than comfortable allowing him to do this alone. He didn't know how skilled Sylar was now, or if he had taken any more abilities during the last four months. At any rate, Hiro was the one guy who could get everyone out from the house safely.
But that meant Peter would have to go hold off Sylar, and he viewed that option with reluctance. He promised Claire that he'd be there and he didn't want to send proxies to fulfill that promise; it was wrong after all Claire's family had done for him. Then there was that stupid lie he'd told Claude, and what he and Noah would do to each other because of it, and whether or not that would jeopardize everyone's safety even more-
"Peter, I cannot wait any longer," said Hiro. "I'm going to go after him!"
"Can I get you to go to the house first while I get Sylar?" Peter blurted out quickly, making his mind up on the spot.
His friend looked as if he were on the brink of being mutinous. "What?! No! Peter, I must stay with you!" He got closer, absolutely unwavering. "I must make sure Sylar dies this time!"
"And you will, okay?" Peter insisted, trying to calm the man down. Hiro was going to need convincing for this plan, and it was difficult when you were barely convinced yourself. "Remember, I'm nuclear too, just like Sylar. I'll go over there and hold him off for right now, but I'm gonna need you to go help Claude and teleport everyone out."
He didn't answer at first, prompting Peter to grab him by the shoulders. "Hiro, please! Just please do this for me, and once everyone's safe you can meet me back at the park," he paused for emphasis, "so we can finish the son of a bitch together."
Hiro didn't acknowledge the suggestion at first, turning to stare angrily at the fading flash in the distance. Finally, he nodded, noticeably disappointed but still resolute. "Okay. Because you asked. I will see you in a few minutes, Peter."
He bowed respectfully, and Peter bowed back. "Thanks, Hiro. I'll save you a good fight, I promise." Extending his hands upward, Peter torpedoed himself into the night sky, mentally preparing for his last battle with Sylar.
But not before a lone thought crossed his mind. I'm sorry, Claire.
Claude hadn't seen the explosion. He was too preoccupied with the conversation he was eavesdropping on. At the front door was a tall man, who was called Nelson by the woman who was currently stepping up on his cupped hands and looking through the door's window. Her name was Miller, and she was giving Nelson some rather extensive detail on what she was seeing in the pitch black house.
Night vision, Claude observed. Not the most brilliant ability, but it saves money on equipment.
"Nothing is moving, so Mack and Liam aren't in yet," she told her partner, stepping down. "I don't know what's taking so long, but if they did get in through another way, they might've run into some trouble. I think we should just break in."
A lock-picking kit was taken out, and Claude watched the two work on the door with some interest. Unfortunately, this interest ran out after about a minute, long after the two should have broken into the damn house. He would've been disappointed with the caliber of the Company's new hires; however, he was more impatient with the fact that this rescue mission was going to be vastly less exciting than he thought it would be.
"Ugh, I can't get the stupid thing to open," Nelson muttered.
"Try tilting the tension wrench upward," Claude suggested.
The two froze, and while Miller managed to pull her gun out, Claude beat both of them to the punch, knocking them out cold with the flat side of his machete. He picked up the rake and tension wrench from Nelson's hands.
"Jesus, must I do everything?" he asked the unconscious forms. Inserting the tools in, he had the door ajar in an easy thirty seconds. "Oy, didja see how long I took? How hard was that?"
There was a desk in front of the door, but it wasn't anything heavy, and Claude was able to push it out of the way. He looked around, trying to gather his thoughts.
Right then, he was here looking for Peter's niece. And apparently, neither the Wonderpup nor the Time Tourist was inside yet. It was an unfortunate testament to their usefulness. He had been outside for what, five minutes? That was incredibly slow; he thought they'd at least be inside the kitchen by now. Their absence probably meant that the back door team proved to be more of a challenge than Nelson and Miller had been. It also meant that the Company might've sent more people than he'd anticipated.
There was a creak from the floor above. Inhaling deeply, Claude decided to tip toe upstairs, machete at the ready in his right palm. He heard another creak in the ceiling right above once he reached the landing, and he stood there for about a minute, completely still and listening. There weren't any more noises, but someone was definitely up here, probably only one person. A door squeaked open as he continued to ascend.
Making up his mind, he decided to confront this stranger, and find out exactly what was going on. The moonlight cast a long shadow on the floor, which drifted towards the top stair at just about the same speed as he was going. Claude pressed his back against the wall and inhaled deeply, preparing to drop his invisibility in the next few seconds.
A man was waiting there, aiming his gun where Claude should've appeared once he'd ascended the top step. Instead, Claude materialized, ducked, and side-stepped, sweeping his machete in a downward arc. He curved his right arm up and shot out his free arm out in the opposing direction, allowing him to halt the blade a few precarious inches away from the man's neck.
Panting and facing the man in the pale moonlight, Claude realized two things. One, there was now a gun pointed at his own right carotid artery. Two, he knew who was pointing the gun.
"You?" Bennet uttered, completely taken aback.
"You." Claude stated simply, now ready to swing the machete with all necessary force.
When Hiro teleported to the back gate, he'd heard two voices in the backyard. He was certain of it.
But why was he only fighting one man?
His opponent swung the rake above his head once again, bringing it down with a discordant clang once it fell upon Hiro's sword. The man continued to strike continuously, and Hiro had to parry at unnatural angles just to meet the blows in time. He really needed to make a power play; something to keep the man off long enough for him to concentrate and freeze time.
Something fell out of the man's pocket, some kind of device. Hiro didn't know what it was, but deeming it important, he sidestepped and stomped on it, blocking another blow as he did so. He heard someone swear, but it didn't sound like his opponent. It sounded like a woman.
That someone struck Hiro in the back of the head, and he fell. Instinctively, he brought his blade up, able to deflect a strike from the rake again. There was now a woman standing next to his opponent, smirking as Hiro struggled to hold back the blow.
"Liam, you weren't supposed to break that!" she scolded. "Now the damn phones are back up!"
"Yeah, well, you played spectator for a long while, Mack," said Liam irritably, still holding Hiro in a lock. "It isn't my fault. Do you know how hard this is?" He swung the rake and thrust it at Hiro again, the young man just barely able to stop the strike this time.
"I thought you looked like you were having fun," she smirked. "Anyway, it's better if you smack around time travelers and not your brother again, right?"
"Just help me out, will ya?!"
Mack grinned maliciously at Hiro, taking a step back. "You're gonna pay for breaking our toy," she told him. Drawing in a breath, she froze. Then, her skin started to glisten in the moonlight, appearing almost aqueous. She shrank and melted into herself, ending up as just another water puddle sitting on the lawn.
At this, Hiro almost lost his concentration, jumping up and backward and parrying more of Liam's hits. The puddle drifted towards him now, forcing him to move and hop around awkwardly as he continued his duel. Eventually he slipped again, his sword knocked out of his hand as he tumbled to the ground. Liam continued his multi-strike attack, and Hiro now scrambled in the grass, running only on pure adrenaline as he continued to dodge.
After fighting samurai and slaying serial killers, he was now at the mercy of a rake-wielding villain and a puddle of water.
There were probably worse ways to shame the House of Kensei, but Hiro's frantic mind couldn't think up a single one.