Chapter 1: Heroics
Secret Hideout, 07:59 am
Four hours before Destruction
William finished his reps before he walked over to his armory. He had turned the basement of the original Reds hideout into his personal armory. Within, he had his guns and armor ready for his plan. His armor was black as the night, and his guns had the same color to them. Enhanced shielding and high-powered heat-sinks enhanced their efficiency, which would be perfect for his plan.
He grabbed his shotgun first; his barrel overpowered and his rounds upgraded with inferno technology. It would help him through some of the challenges he was to overcome. All he needed was the underground to do what he wanted. Already he had the street urchins running to let the crime lords know of the weapons cache locations. The lords will have the inhabitants fight their way to city hall to kill the mayor while others are attacking certain rich guys hot spots. His informant was at one of those spots, but if he lost him he wouldn't care.
Setting it down, he reached for his shirt on the table. He smiled as he slipped it on, knowing of the added details he threw in to ensure no loose ends. Like what was going to happen to this place thirty seconds after the authorities walked in.
The Hotel, 08:22 am
Christian woke up to the sound of his omni-tool going off with a message. He struggled to awake his eyes so he could look at the message clearly. Once he saw the room without any trouble, he looked at his omni-tool:
Christian,
Michelle and I are waiting for you down at the breakfast buffet on the thirteenth floor. We need to talk.
Eric
"Great." Christian sighed. "Talk about a wake-up call." He got up quickly and got himself dressed, placing on his team jacket last. He opened the door to his hotel room to see two men dressed in black walk past in a hurry. It seemed suspicious to him almost immediately, but he didn't think it was something he should immediately handle. Instead, he headed back into his room and called up the front desk.
"This is the lobby. How can we help?"
"Yeah, I saw some pretty suspicious men on the fifteenth floor."
"How many?"
"Two. They were both wearing black. Whoever they were, they kept their faces hidden. It seemed too suspicious to me."
"We'll send security to check it out. Thank you for notifying us."
"No problem. Have a good day."
"You, too, Mr. Tyson." The connection was cut and Christian headed over to his armor case. He popped it open to stare at the armor of his team. The silver plate aligned with the red dragon pattern was unscathed, as his armor had always been polished after a game. Next to it was his weapon of choice: a multi-tool of his own design. It was a three-in-one system; switching between spear to sword to even his hockey stick within seconds. He had the only one thanks to the brilliant mind of one Steven Rogers, who designed it specifically for Christian's needs.
That might be a bit too bulky. Instead, Christian reached for the braces in his case, slipping them onto his wrists. They could easily be concealed by his jacket, so he shouldn't have any questions about why he was carrying his defensive gear around. Closing his case (which was so overdesigned it could likely withstand a nuclear explosion) he headed for his door, knowing he was now more prepared for trouble that he sensed had to have been coming.
Seattle Alliance HQ, 08:26 am
Admiral Taggart walked into the office of his command center. He had been called in on his day off due to a hacker's threat message at midnight. He had turned on the TV once he heard the news of Thatcher's message. It was spread all across the extranet and talked about on the Alliance News Network. It was a pain in the ass to hear about this kind of event.
This is why there should've been more control over the city. Taggart thought to himself. Petty criminals such as Mr. Thatcher wouldn't be running around threatening to kill people if they went through the lower district and purged the criminals. Of course, we would need to pull out all of the poor souls to protect them from the scourge of the city the rich have created.
"Admiral Taggart," Taggart's assistant spoke from the door."Metropolis Police have connected a helmet camera to one of their SWAT members. They're moving to where the signal from last night originated."
"You would've figured they'd've found the signal when it was broadcasted."
"Mr. Thatcher had the signal heavily encoded. It took our codebreakers hours to find where the signal originated."
"Hmm." Taggart hummed. "Where did the signal originate?"
"An abandoned house. Something constructed in the early 21st century. The police thought they cleared that place in 2174 after the two friends Mr. Thatcher mentioned were killed trying to assassinate a turian ambassador. They found that place and arrested people from there; Mr. Thatcher included. He only got out recently."
"So he ends up going crazy and plans on fighting a war against the rich of the city. That spells suicide."
"No doubt." The assistant opened the door to the command center, where a giant monitor displayed the visualization of an entire SWAT team entering an old house. The image was black and white (so 21st century) and it displayed what was going on in perfect picture. The audio was on so they could hear what was going on.
"We're entering the hacker's hideout. Stay sharp and stay alert for any trouble." The commanding officer commanded to his men as they approached the door. One man set a charge on the door, signalling everyone to back off so the detonation didn't injure anyone. Seconds after they were cleared, the door exploded into shrapnel. Suddenly, everyone hastefully ran inside, shouting around the room.
"Freeze! MPD!" After a few seconds of silence, the team became surprised. "Where is he?"
"Search around the house. He could be anywhere." The one with the camera began to search around the room, taking a left into an area where four computer monitors focused around a man at a desk.
"William Thatcher," The cameraman said. "by authority of the Metropolis Police Department, you are hereby under-" The man stopped talking as he turned the chair around to see an old man taped to the chair with his mouth sewn shut. "What the fuck?"
"What have you got?" The commanding officer asked as he entered the room. "Holy shit. Get that man's mouth free." The one with the camera summons a knife from his boot and slowly cuts the stitches.
"You need to run." The old man said weakly.
"That's Mr. Abernathy."
"You need... to run."
"Why did he do this to you?"
"There's a... a bomb. Inside... inside me. A detonator... he stitched it inside me."
"We can get a bomb squad in here to disable the bomb."
"No... it's too late. The bomb goes off when my heart rate drops dramatically. I've been bleeding inside for a... a while. I don't have much time... Run... RUNNNNNN!"
"Let's get the fuck out of here!" The cameraman shouted.
"Everyone, get out of the house! There's a bo-" The recording went to static before the man could finish commanding his forces to retreat.
"Henderson?" Taggart asked as he tried to connect to the squad's radio. "Morrison? Underhill?"
"It appears Mr. Thatcher is far more resourceful than we first realized." Taggart's assistant stated.
"That means he set us up. Son of a bitch! And knowing that place, it's the truth."
"You need to calm down, sir. We'll be keeping an eye out for him all around Metropolis."
"If he had explosives for an entire house to be destroyed, who knows what other tricks he has up his sleeve. We need our men to keep a constant watch for suspicious activity. Get a transport nearby to prepare for the worst case scenario Thatcher threatened to ensue."
"Very well." His assistant left the room in a hurry, revealing his confidence in this operation to be low. Rubbing his eyes, Taggart reached for a connection to someone within the city. If anyone needed to be warned, it was the crazy old man with the nuclear reactor.
Calypso Nuclear Reactor and Scientific Facility, 08:28 am
Inside CEO Sarif's office
David Sarif looked at the caller I.D. on his large terminal along the wall. Admiral Taggart was the last person he expected to get a call from. They both had conflicting views on how to fix the economy in Metropolis, and Taggart went to work in Seattle rather than lead the Alliance garrison held up in the broken city. Taggart and Sarif had some words with each other before then.
"Better see what he wants." Sarif grumbled. "Don't want him complaining about my hospitality again." He set the baseball in his hand aside so he could accept the call with his omni-tool. Admiral Taggart's image popped up in front of him, his face unpleasant still after all those years. "Taggart, nice to see you didn't forget about me after leaving."
"Our differences are in the past, Sarif." Taggart spoke, stroking his blonde hair before speaking again. "And while I haven't agreed with the work you've done involving that reactor and cybernetic augmentations, I respect you for holding everything together all of this time. But I come with a warning."
"You mean about this William Thatcher guy? Yeah, I sent many of my non-essential staff back home to be with their families, or to pack up and leave. But I'm not leaving this place until we gather all of our research. If Thatcher were to attack this facility and take our secrets, he could do this somewhere else on the globe. We work on special projects for the Alliance, the turian heirarchy, and many other galactic clients. Our research is vital."
"Then you better make it fast. I have an Alliance transport coming to pick up anybody they can from the chaos that Thatcher will definitely cause. He's a genius and a madman, and I don't want him to kill you."
Sarif juggled his baseball before speaking again. "I understand your concern, but you don't need to worry about me. I've got five transports capable of carrying all of my on-site staff out of here once our data is secure. As soon as we are leaving Metropolis I'll notify you of our success."
"Fine. Just remember that there are many people that could use the protection of your LOKI mech force, too."
"I can spare a garrison. They'll be out to assist you when you're ready."
"Thank you, Sarif."
"It's the right thing to do. The people of Metropolis are my top concern."
"As they are my concern. Keep them safe."
"Will do." The connection cut off, and Sarif went to his desk to type in the orders. He heard a beeping sound and turned to face Chronicler on a large hologram table. "You've gotta stop sneaking up on me, Chronicler. It's not good for my health."
"I apologize, Mr. Sarif." Chronicler apologized, his red and blue armored hologram shuddering a bit. "Father would like to know how your progress on the Phoenix Mk. II implants goes."
"The Phoenix implants will still take a few years to work the exact way The Stranger wants them. Even if we get past the emotional toll the implants could cause, I'm not sure we can avoid the scarring process that comes from anger and stress. Whoever is augmented with these implants should be able to gain the increased strength and speed the original implants gave to Patient R, but only if we can solve the communications problem the separate implants have."
"Father believes that we will have 90% of those problems solved before we reach the deadline. As long as we know that the user will not suffer the same effects as Patient R, Father will be satisfied with the results."
"I sure hope so. I mean implants that can make inactive organs work again; it sounds too good to be true. It's a huge advancement in the work of modern medicine."
"Those modifications will be useful to Father's future plans, along with the many other projects other CEO's are working on."
"I hope the others are having as much success as us, if not better success."
"I assure you they are."
Sarif grinned. "Chronicler, I need you to grab all of the project files and transfer them to the Hawk's Nest off in D.C. While you're at it, make sure the remnants of Project Icarus are ready in case of immediate danger and there's just not enough time to get all of the personel on the transports."
"Of course." Chronicler's hologram sunk into the table and disappeared, giving Sarif the breathing room to continue working on last-minute details.
Back at the hotel, Christian walked into the dining area where they were serving breakfast. He took one look around the room to see his friend Michelle waving to him from one of the tables. Eric was in a chair across from her digging into six pancakes at once. Chirstian rolled his eyes at the sight of the man pigging out and walked over to meet with them.
"It's alive!" Michelle joked as Christian took a seat. He playfully shoved her before a waiter came over to ask him what he would like to drink.
"Good morning, sir. What could I get for you?"
"Orange juice, please."
"Coming right up." The man poured a pitcher of orange juice into the glass Christian had in his spot. He then retreated to another table.
"So is it an open buffet or something?" Christian asked.
"Yep." Eric said as he tried to swallow a mouthfull of pancake. "They've got waffles, pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, cereal, hash browns, cinnamon rolls, french toast, and so much more! It's insane!" His Jersey accent seemed to be cracking as he finished swallowing.
"Do you want me to get something for you?" Michelle asked.
"Oven Pancakes. Some butter, a little powdered sugar and lemon juice spread over them and you've got heaven on a plate..."
"You have got the wierdest taste ever." Eric commented.
"Says the guy that eats like a pig." Christian joked.
"Okay, I'll get that for you. Just play nice, you guys." Michelle left the table laughing.
"You got it, Michelle." Christian waved as she walked away. She waved back and turned as Christian grabbed his glass of orange juice. Once Michelle was out of range, Eric went hostile.
"You really pull the lamest crap, Christian." His Jersey accent was much more understandable now that he wasn't chewing his food. "I mean, she seriously isn't falling for all of your flirting, right?"
"I don't really think that's your business, Eric." Christian commented.
"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't." Eric drank from his own glass before speaking again. "Besides, you're way too famous for her."
"She and I are the best players on the team. I'm not too famous for her."
"Uh... well, then you're too nice for her."
"That's called manners. Something you lack."
"Hey!" He shoved another bit of pancake into his mouth. "I have manners."
"You're talking while chewing your food."
Eric stopped.
"Eric, what's your problem with me? I didn't do anything to you until Russia when I punched you in the face."
"You're just competition to me, still. Ever since you defeated my old team, I wanted nothing more than to take the top spot from you. Russia was just an impulsive plan that failed thanks to that Charnophsky guy. If you had actually gotten framed for the damage caused to the arena, the top spot could've been mine easier, but now..."
"How are you even still on the team?"
"I have friends in high places, too." Eric smirked. "The asari go crazy for my fighting style."
"So, did the asari make a petition on for you to stay?"
"Nope. An asari dutchess visiting Earth payed my fine. She even bought me dinner. And-"
"No!" Christian shouted. "Don't say any more. I don't need that image in my head."
"How did you know?"
"Because 'everybody'" Christian made quotations with his fingers. "loves the asari."
"And you don't?"
"I'm not a sexist pig like you."
"Why do you gotta be like that?"
Christian went for another sip of orange juice before he heard a gun go off. There were five men (two of them were the ones Christian saw in the hallway) armed with guns. They were just shooting relentlessly at the ceiling, hitting any people who approached them. People were panicking and were ducking their heads. Christian immediately pushed their table to the side and took cover behind it. Eric complained about his pancakes, but ducked behind the table with him.
"What the hell is going on?" Christian whispered.
"Everybody listen up!" One of the men spoke. "Stay down and don't do anything stupid! Now tell me where Christian Tyson is!"
"Who?" One citizen asked.
"Christian Tyson!" The man yelled, kicking the one who questioned him. "The member of the EUCC! He and his friends came here for a supposed charity event for the people of the lower city! He will be one of the first that William Thatcher will slay!"
"We do not negotiate with terrorists!" One old man yelled, approaching the man barking orders.
"You know, you remind me of my father." The man then grabbed the old man. "I hated my father!"
"Boss," One of the other attackers spoke. "I caught one of the others near the buffet."
Christian looked to see Michelle being dragged over to the leader with her complaining.
"Get your hands off me, you dirty bastard." Michelle warned.
"Damn it." Christian ducked back behind the table. "They've got Michelle."
"Well, what are you going to do?"
"Well, you're going to do the easy thing and get help. I think I can at least distract them before then. And if they kill me now, that top spot could become yours if you earn it."
"That sounds easy." Eric smiled. "I'll get to work. You go ahead and get yourself killed."
One henchman saw Eric trying to sneak away from the table. He ran straight to the flipped table and took aim at Eric. But before the man could take a shot, Christian pulled the man over the table and summoned his omni-shield, knocking the man unconscious before he could react.
Eric turned around to face Christian. "You used me as bait?!"
Christian faced Eric. "Go." He picked up the pistol from the man he knocked out and began to stand up with his shield raised.
"Kill the knight!" The leader commanded. "Kill the people! Kill them all!"
Christian went to work, taking aim at the bigger henchman about to gun down the civilians. The shot from Christian's pistol hit the man's shoulder and forced him to drop his gun. The other two tried to focus on Christian, who then pulled out his other useful tool. His omni-bow ignited on his right hand and he prepared three concussive arrows to use on the henchmen. He hit one with his shield and took aim at the one with the injured shoulder, knocking him out with one concussive arrow. The third man tackled him to the ground, forcing him to lose the pistol from his grip. The man attempted to get his hands around Christian's throat, but he was pushed off when Christian put away and then resummoned his shield.
"You're getting on my nerves." The henchman still standing spoke.
"I have a knack for that." Christian joked.
"Not anymore." The man fired a shotgun at Christian, but his omni-shield took the blast. Christian fired a concussive arrow straight into the man's gut, taking the man's breath away. The man on the ground attempted to stand, but Eric snuck up and hit him with a chair.
"That's for ruining my breakfast, asshole." Eric scolded.
"Let's stop the last man before he hurts Michelle." Christian walked over with the last concussive arrow loaded.
"Christian Tyson, your reputation precedes you." The leader spoke.
"Let Michelle go, and maybe I'll spare you from my last arrow. You'll be able to explain yourself to the police without a headache."
"I don't think so. I have leverage with your friend here, and I have to take all the options I can."
"You look like a man with a Plan B. Taking a hostage is only a distraction. I see the wisdom you hide. You are probably ex-military, so I know you have the balls to flee and succeed, and I see your kinetic barriers surrounding you. You might be able to run, but taking my friend will only slow you down."
"How the fuck would you know of such a thing?"
"I have family and friends in the Alliance. They told me of many signs to watch out for on those that would do me harm. So I'm going to make you a deal: let my friend go, and I'll let you send a message to your master. Tell him that we're not going to stand for this threat, and that he better make sure he can actually back up his statement on us not trying to help the citizens in the poor end of Metropolis."
"And how do I know you won't just turn on me once I let your friend go?"
"My only concern is the protection of these people and my friends. I'm not your enemy, and you have done nothing to harm me except hold my friend hostage. Let her go, and I'll keep my word."
The leader seemed to consider this option. "Damn it, get out of here." He let Michelle go, and she walked to her friends. "You got what you want. Can I leave?"
"I made a deal. I'm letting you go. Tell Thatcher what I told you."
"All right. And maybe I'll owe you one. But if you want my advice, leave Metropolis soon. There's nothing here worth throwing your life away for." Before Christian could ask what meant, the man had left.
"Are you a fucking idiot?" Eric scolded. "You just let a criminal go."
"It was better than the alternative, Eric." Christian walked over to Michelle. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Christian." Michelle assured. "You can relax."
"Can't be too careful. You were just a hostage."
"And I probably could've freed myself."
"I'm sure you could. But you were taking too long to try."
"Who said I was gonna try?" She smirked.
Christian laughed. "You just wanted me to show off, didn't you?"
"Maybe."
"I'm flattered, but if you can save yourself, do so. It would look bad on your own career if you couldn't stop someone from kidnapping you yourself."
"You're not going to say that to Boss, are you?"
"I might." Eric commented.
"No, we won't." Christian assured. "Come on. Let's head back to my room. I think we need to talk about what happened."
"Oh, wait a second." Michelle ran over to the buffet and brought back a plate of pancakes. "I had your pancakes ready before they dragged me over."
"Thanks." Christian smiled. "You're the best."
"Uh," Eric started. "can I get some of that pancake?"
"Get your own, Eric." Christian walked out with Michelle to his room. Eric took Christian's advice and grabbed some more pancakes.
"Damn it." A man said behind Eric. "First the club I was hanging out at on Elysium gets attacked by pirates looking for that - what was it - Houston Squad, and now the hotel I'm staying at is attacked by punks looking for some guy named Christian Tyson. What the fuck is up with my luck, man?!"
"Beats me, man." Eric answered. "Maybe you're just unlucky."
"Damn it!" The man yelled before walking away. "I'm just a dentist. I don't need this crap!"
Eric just laughed as he caught up with Christian and Michelle.