"Who did you contact?" The abrasive psychological juncture engendered by those four words temporarily shifted the power dynamic for a fraction of a second, a fraction which ruptured into a weighty locus of concerted effort as Bob began to speak.
"Six months prior to your ill-fated outreach effort, I was approached by an organization ostensibly claiming to be the "Superhero Rehabilitation Initiative" or SRI. My previous employer—Insuracare—formerly operated as a subsidiary of one of the largest private equity firms in the contiguous United States, whose pre-1949 interests primarily involved buying out small shell companies created to protect the individual financial interests of supers. In effect, their aim was to exert financial leverage over supers and create fewer financial loopholes by threatening to confiscate their assets in the event of legal bankruptcy, which, as you know, was a pervasive problem in those days. The SRI wanted me to access certain archival ledgers which contain information pertaining to the individual case studies conducted by Insuracare, which at the time, was performing a "watchdog" function by evaluating the legal grounds for certain substantial asset seizures…"
Here Syndrome's eyes narrowed, "Go on."
"SRI explained to me that they hoped to contest many of these evaluations using a newly assembled team of legal experts and that they could make a compelling case for why Insuracare's decisions were not rendered impartially, as many of the heads of management had significant financial interests in the outcome of many of these cases."
Bob paused to catch his breath before hoarsely continuing.
"I began performing small contractual work for them without my company's knowledge, becoming a legal expert myself in the process. That is until I uncovered one key piece of information—the SRI, which claimed to be in contact with a network of heretofore unknown supers, who went into hiding pre-1952, in anticipation of the landmark Henry Zabek [alias Whiplash] v. The Government of the United States of America—was not registered with the NSA, nor were they affiliated with any established superhero legal networks prior to 1957, at which point most of these initiatives were being quietly shut down. I expressed my concerns to my contact, a woman named Helen Wharton—the woman who is on the plane as we speak—revealed to me that SRI was in fact a government entity aimed at extraditing said network of supers who had fled the United States prior to them having been made illegal, and whose assets the government wishes to seize. Should I choose to no longer cooperate with them, my company would be informed of my "extracurricular" activities and I'd be blacklisted from any future employment. Apparently, "SRI" had infiltrated a rather substantial émigré network around 5 years ago and had successfully earned the trust of many high-level supers, whose assets include holdings in many natural gas and rare earth mineral entities. At the time, she promised to negotiate the transfer of a number of these shares if I proved to be sufficiently forthcoming with any information pertaining to extrajudicial superhero activity.
"You sly dog," Syndrome interjected, a wide grin enveloping his face.
"As for the distress signal, I didn't activate that-they did. As a gesture of goodwill, they offered to repair and construct new and existing garments for any functions I might be invited to. It was explained to me that I had been always intended as a mole, and my duties had merely been extended as a function of my compliance and willingness to cooperate."
Bob now locked eyes with Syndrome as he prepared to extend his fictious offer.
"I can bring them to you. They trust me, or at least see me as indebted to them. A whole network of supers that you haven't yet heard of. Allow me to redeem myself. I implore you."
Syndrome shrugged before gradually easing his finger from the ominous red button.
"You have a deal, Incredible."