Marcus opened the door to his office and walked over to his desk, holding a cup of coffee in his right hand. He glanced at the autograph signed by A-Train he stuck onto the wall with sticky tack. Nearly two weeks have passed by and that autograph hasn't failed to make him chuckle. He bragged about it whenever he had the chance to. Although there hadn't been many chances to do that considering just how many in the station were still mourning "Geostrike", the name headlines and news outlets the world over were using to refer to the massive supervillain attack that occurred in New York. Marcus wasn't the type to stir in sorrow and pity when something negative happened, you tended to avoid that when you took up his line of work. But even a heartless bastard like him knew that 20,000 deaths was bad.
He stopped, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion as he spotted a black file resting in the middle of the desk.
"Lenny!" he called out to his deputy in the other room, "When did this file get here?"
"It was dropped off around an hour ago, guy who left it said it was for you, but you were out doing business so I just left it there on your desk," Lenny shouted back.
"Did you read it?"
"No sir."
Marcus sighed before taking a swig of coffee and sitting down in his chair, placing his leather boots up on the desk as he opened the file with his other hand and began reading its contents.
"What the fuck…" He whispered in shock as his eyes scanned the paper again and again.
Marcus was raised poor. Growing up in the ghettos of Philadelphia, he'd been decent with a gun before he came into his abilities at the age of fifteen. Up till that point, Marcus had stayed on the surface; petty crime, thievery, shoplifting, mugging. The kinds of things kids with no way out resorted to.
But when he discovered that he was a psychic, he'd gotten dragged into the underworld the very next week. Not because he was kidnapped by a supe cult like the Exalted, or because his hand was forced by a group of super criminals. But because he saw the opportunity to make more money and took it.
High profile robberies, hit jobs, transportation of not-so-legal but very pricey goodies. There was always something to do, always somebody to turn away with a simple psychic command. His powers were extremely lucrative. And though any run of the mill power like super strength helped a supe accrue endless amounts of money in the underworld. A criminal - or a villain - needed to be lowkey in order to avoid unnecessary attention from the law. Fortunately for him, precogs, psychics or telepaths didn't need to exert much effort to accomplish that.
After flitting from gig to gig for 36 years, Marcus finally landed himself a safe and cozy job in a small little town called Morgland. He'd been assigned to oversee a crucial part of an operation his current employer - John Godolkin - decided to kick into high gear. John situated Marcus there to "dissuade" wayward heroes or troublesome spooks from discovering what he was getting up to in rural America. Marcus didn't question John on what exactly he was moving around. And he didn't need to, that was for the product guys to handle. His job was to ensure nobody in Morgland asked too many questions. And in his honest opinion, he was doing a tremendous job at it.
Usually, becoming a police chief took a terrific amount of effort to achieve for most. But most people weren't supes. Initially Marcus had been put off of working as a cop. But John eventually cajoled him into taking up the role, something about Marcus having untapped potential for that kind of work or something. He couldn't remember if he tried, it went in one ear and out the other. But they perked up when he heard three million a year. He would take any job for that kind of money.
It took months of effort on John's part. Most of which was spent trying to smooth Marcus's promotional streak over with administrative figures outside this town of 10,000 people. Along with Marcus running around mind fucking people into believing that he was, without a shadow of a doubt, one hundred percent qualified. But Godolkin was more than happy to dedicate time and resources into making Marcus a chief.
Eventually Marcus's meteoric rise to the top only made the people of Morgland look at him in admiration. Instead of the suspicion they would've had if he wasn't a psychic. His position as Police Chief meant he could more effectively direct local authorities away from suspicious activity occurring in their own town. A sudden uptick of freight trucks going in and out of Morgland? That's because the town's economy has been bustling recently! Random groups of men walking around that no one can recognise or put a name to? They simply never existed in the first place! It was hard work, but he found it to be a worthwhile experience. Knowing how the "other side of the law" worked was educational and even helpful. If he ever left and wanted to find more work again (and he doubted that would ever happen with the money he was bringing in) then having more in depth knowledge of how the cops operated couldn't hurt.
His hefty workload was offloaded by the fact that he already had both the town's managerial figures and high ranking officers under his influence. And telling them to do what they usually did every day wasn't that complicated. There hadn't been much crime in Morgland to begin with, even before he secured his iron grip over its population.
But now… This? How was John expecting him to cover this up?
He haphazardly placed his coffee on his desk before grasping for the mobile phone in his pocket, gritting his teeth as he unlocked it and scrolled through his contacts at a rapid pace.
He tapped on John Godolkin's name and brought the phone to his ear, his fingers drumming against the desk as he waited for an answer. It barely rang twice before a smooth, familiar voice came through.
"Marcus," John greeted, sounding as if he had been expecting the call. "I take it you've read the file?"
Marcus inhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening around the phone. "You're out of your damn mind if you think I can keep this quiet."
John chuckled, unfazed. "Relax. You always get like this when I throw you a curveball."
Marcus clenched his fist. He could never get over just how much of a pompous know-it-all his boss could be at times. He could imagine the half empty wine glass John was nursing in his hand, along with the tobacco pipe he was no doubt smoking with the other. Because apparently cigars were the staple of street-tier savages and not sophisticated high class crime bosses like John was.
"This is more than a 'curveball' John," he spat. "You're asking me to hide five supe-kids from the Feds!"
Marcus felt his pulse hammering in his ears as he gripped the phone tighter, his free hand clenching into a fist on the desk, crumpling the edge of the file. He tried to process what the hell John was asking of him. Five supe-kids. Just one orphaned supe was enough for the FBSA to scramble a hero team. But five?!
John's voice remained as infuriatingly smooth as ever. "You're overreacting, Marcus. It's not like the Feds know where they may be. We've got them contained. We just need Morgland to be… accommodating."
"Accommodating," Marcus repeated flatly. "John, you're talking about kids the FBSA is actively looking for. If I fuck this up, they're gonna send a hero task force down here, and I don't care how deep my hooks are in this town, that's not something I can psychic my way out of."
"You won't have to," John assured him. "This is temporary. A holding situation. A week, maybe two. Then they'll be delivered here to my mansion where they'll be safest. I'll be sending Nathan, Elvan and twenty of my best men to help you secure them, so you'll have help."
Marcus let out a sharp breath, rubbing his temples. That assurance calmed him down a bit, but he could still feel a headache coming on. "And what am I supposed to do if one of them slips? If some dumbass kid tries to run, or worse, gets spotted doing some flashy supe shit?"
"First, they have dampening colors, so nobody will see them doing any 'flashy supe shit'. And regardless, that's why you're there, my friend," John said smoothly. "You're resourceful. You'll figure it out. Keep them in line, make sure no one asks questions, and in return, you'll be compensated handsomely. A little bonus for your troubles, let's say."
Marcus closed his eyes. He was already making three million a year. If John was offering extra, that meant this was riskier than he was letting on.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where are they now?"
"En route," John replied. "Should be arriving in Morgland in-" a pause, the faint sound of rustling papers on the other end "-four hours."
Marcus nearly spilled his coffee. "Four hours? Jesus Christ, John, you could've given me more time!"
"And what would you have done with it? Stress yourself out more?" John chuckled, clearly amused by Marcus's frustration. "I have faith in you. Now, make sure the station is in order, and—"
"Hold on," Marcus interrupted, frowning. "Where the hell did these kids even come from? You usually keep me in the loop, but this many lost supe-kids? What are you up to?"
A brief pause. Just long enough to make Marcus uneasy.
Then John exhaled slowly. "That's not something you need to worry about."
Marcus scoffed. "Bull. Shit."
"Marcus," John said, his tone losing its usual charm. "The kids will be there soon. Keep them quiet, keep them hidden, and don't make this more complicated than it needs to be."
The line went dead.
Marcus lowered the phone slowly, staring at the file on his desk. His stomach twisted.
Five supe-kids…
Marcus grabbed his coffee and chugged the piping hot beverage in one, all-encompassing gulp. Before slamming the mug down onto the desk.
"Shit."
As the sun finally crawled behind the horizon and shrouded Morgland in darkness, sinister machinations were being conducted in the town's almost abandoned outskirts.
Marcus watched as three box trucks pulled into the rundown warehouse one after the other. He recognised a familiar face in the front seat of the third trick and smiled wryly. Nathan laughed as he hopped out of the truck and walked towards Marcus with open arms.
"You ugly son of a bitch," Nathan exclaimed joyfully while they embraced and clapped each other on the back. "How've you been?"
"I've been good," Marcus chuckled. "And you can address me as Chief from now on."
Nathan snorted, "Hell no. John's been telling me and the guys all about how you've been running a town of your very own out here. I could hardly believe you would be smart enough to pull something like that off, but lo and behold."
Marcus could only roll his eyes endearingly before noticing Elvan's absence amongst the men who were disembarking from the backs of the last two trucks. Fourteen in total, excluding the drivers.
"Where's..?"
"Elvan's coming but he's far away, he just finished wiping out a bunch of those Exalted freaks in Reno so it'll take him a bit to get here."
Marcus shivered at the mention of the Exalted. "Why didn't John wait on him before transporting his..." Marcus watched as armed men climbed out of their vehicles and moved to open up the cargo compartments. "...Products?"
Nathan's face tightened with uncertainty as the screams and shouts of children pierced through the first truck's metal walls. The moment the armed men heaved open the cargo doors, six of them stormed inside with their weapons raised to force the kids into silence.
"John had to move those kids quickly before they were found. Feds got a hold of one of our men and mindfucked the secrets out of him. We just barely got out of our drug lab in L.A before the Heroes came knocking."
Marcus's jaw clenched for just a second as he heard another scream, and the subsequent shouting from one of the men to keep the kids quiet. The two supes walked away from the commotion before continuing their conversation.
"Did John tell you about what was in there?"
"He did."
For a moment, Marus and Nathan looked back at the men as they escorted five rugged kids outside of the trucks and lined them up against the wall, each of them wearing power dampening collars. None of those children looked older than ten.
Marcus leaned in closer to Nathan and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "Do you honestly not take any issue with that?"
Nathan wrenched his eyes away from the sight as he shook his head. "We don't question orders, Marcus, we just do them."
"That's not what I asked you."
Nathan sighed and looked up at the ceiling, uncertainty etched on his face. "Well of course I do, but how do you expect me to tell John I'm uncomfortable with this? Do you actually think he would give a shit with what's at stake here?" Nathan glanced nervously at his underlings to check if any of them were trying to listen in.
"I was fine with moving shit around to get people high," Marcus said through grit teeth, "But I didn't sign up to assist with a fucking child trafficking operation!"
"These aren't just kids, Marcus, they're supes. It's not like we're sending them to… To those freaks in Hollywood, it's just business."
Marcus pinched his temple in anger, "It doesn't matter if we aren't delivering them to a bunch of pedophiles. They're. Still. Kids!"
Nathan rolled his eyes, "Marcus, you and I aren't going to talk him out of this. Supes are rare, and right now there's five of them in front of us. We'll have fifteen supes available to us if we condition them into working for us! Do you honestly think John would miss the chance to weaponize them just because we don't like it?"
Marcus groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Are you… Are we actually going to go through with this?"
Nathan let out a weary sigh, his expression caught somewhere between resignation and reluctant ambition. "I mean… If we raise them right, bring them into the fold, we wouldn't just be the most powerful outfit this side of the states… We would be the most powerful in the whole country."
As Marcus began to silently contemplate the implications of that, a yelp cut through the lull and drew their attention back towards the kids. A little girl with red hair, who the rest seemed to be hiding behind, was shielding the others whilst her hand was outstretched. One of the armed men was screaming as he smacked his own sleeve to extinguish a lit blaze. Marcus noticed a cigarette butt on the ground that was still on fire.
"Take her down!" One of the goons screamed, calling on the rest to fire their weapons at the girl. Bullets bounced against her pale skin, each successful hit drawing pained shrieks from her and making her cover her head with her arms.
"WHERE THE FUCK IS HER POWER DAMPENER?!" One of them shouted in panic as the flames from the burning cigarette butt on the floor shot out at the men before retreating to her palm. The feint sent them a step back for a second in fear of being set alight, allowing her a moment's reprieve from the hail of bullets.
"HEY!" Marcus screamed at the girl. "OVER HERE!"
The two made eye contact, a flash of calm crossing her mind for a split second. He capitalised on the momentary vulnerability to break through her mind's defenses. Her screaming got worse, the invasive presence ripping through her head and inflicting unimaginable strain on her mental state. He didn't like it when he had to go the forceful route against another supe. What usually followed in the next few seconds wasn't all that pretty for anybody nearby.
"STEP BACK!" He called out. "GET THE FUCK. BACK!"
Eighteen out of twenty managed to retreat far enough, but two of them were unlucky enough to get caught up in the maelstrom of fire that erupted from the small flame in her palm. Their cries for help were silenced instantly as the spinning inferno stole the oxygen from their lungs and burnt their insides to a crisp. The girl collapsed onto the cold floor a second later, the fire dissipating along with her.
The charred corpses of the two men were horrifying to look at. Their faces appeared uncharacteristically skeletal in nature. The flames having burnt off significant chunks of their flesh in a second and left something that appeared barely human. Wisps of smoke lazily rose from out of their mouths like a melting wax candle. And their eyes - or at least what remained of them - were blackened out hollows.
The kids were in various states of distress, one shook in fear at the sight, another shivered as he closed his eyes to avoid looking at it. Only one girl was smart enough to be scared of the fact that the only person standing between her and the scary men with guns was now out of commission. She struggled to remove the dampening collar hugging her neck, desperate to use her powers against the encroaching adults.
Marcus and Nathan came up behind their goons, prompting them to move aside. Marcus spotted an open dampening collar on the ground, the green light that should've been there seemingly turned off. He picked it up and examined it.
"What happened?" Marcus inquired.
"Must've been a faulty bootleg," Nathan concluded. "John was probably running around trying to scrimp up enough collars to outfit these kids with. At least before the Heroes could knock down his lab and find them. I guess he didn't care where they were coming from."
Marcus eyed the corpses in disgust before turning back to the men. "Were these two important?"
The men traded glances between each other before one - the biggest of them - stepped forward. "No they weren't, sir. They were former military but nothing special."
Marcus nodded, then began shouting. "If any of you THINK of threatening these kids like you just did these past five minutes? I won't hesitate to put you in the FUCKING ground!" He pointed accusingly at every single one of them. "Is that clear?"
Nathan smiled approvingly as the men nodded frantically.
"Alright then, you four," he pointed towards the ones closest to him. "Come and remove these corpses and check up on the girl." He turned to another group, "I want seven of you posted outside and the rest spread out around the warehouse. We're gonna be bringing in beds and anything these kids need to make them as comfortable as possible."
The kids looked at Marcus nervously as he kneeled down to meet them eye to eye, some of them retreating. "And I can promise you, that'll be our top priority from this moment on." It was like the worry seeped out of their bodies as soon as he flashed them a smile.
"W-where are we, mister?" An asian boy with sunken cheeks said meekly.
Marcus gently ruffled the boy's hair, "We're in a magical place called Morgland where all the kids get an endless amount of candy whenever they want. You'll like it."
"Really?" A small blonde girl spoke up. "But the scary men hurt u-"
"The scary men won't hurt you ever again, little one. I promise."
"Look at you," Nathan joked. "This place really has gotten you acting soft."
Marcus shook his head, not even bothering to look in Nathan's direction while he stood up. "What are all of your names?"
Of course he already knew who they were based on reading the file that John sent. But letting them introduce themselves to him was more than likely going to calm them somewhat. It helped build a rapport on top of providing a starting point for further understanding. He spent the majority of his time as a supe playing the social game, pacifying a bunch of kids was going to be easy.
He went down the list. The red head pyrokinetic was named Laurie Riordan, Cate Dunlap was a psychic like he was albeit weaker, Jordan Li was exceptionally tough, Andre Anderson could manipulate metal, and Marie Moreau didn't know what her powers were. But the file confirmed she had been dosed with Compound V by her parents when she was a baby, so she was likely just a late bloomer.
"You guys sit tight and take care of your friend Laurie over here, there'll be beds set up for you guys soon and we'll get you all the food you want. Understood?"
Four of the five nodded reluctantly before he and Nathan walked away.
"I'll tell John to order another dampening collar tomorrow," Nathan murmured. "And that he needs to check who he's buying from first before he gets scammed again."
Marcus stayed silent.
"Let me guess," Nathan drawled. "You're still not sure about this?"
"Well…" Marcus hesitated. "Okay. I get why John would want to do this. At this point I'm just worried about the kids."
Nathan put his hand on Marcus's shoulder. "John will treat them right. I seriously doubt he would stoop so low as to abuse these kids."
Marcus appeared indecisive. "Are you a hundred percent certain?"
Nathan scoffed. "Uh, do you actually think he would?"
"... Ugh... No, I guess not."
Nathan chuckled as he clapped his friend on the back. "Honestly, the guy is a little odd but he's not that much of a monster," He looked back to see if anyone was listening in. "Are there any good bars in this town we can go to? I want a fucking drink."
Marcus began laughing. "Okay then, but you're paying."
Cate watched the police chief and his friend go out for a night out on the town. She noticed the others were unnaturally relaxed, and Laurie wasn't tossing and turning in her sleep like she usually would. But she was still alert. Despite the police chief's exceptionally powerful psychic abilities, he failed to consider the possibility that a nine-year-old could surpass him.
One by one, she discreetly undid the chief's psychic hold on the others. They all came to, each of them nearly jumping in alert once they regained their senses before being calmed down by Cate. It wouldn't do to have the armed men be suspicious. She looked down at a sleeping Laurie and left the psychic sedative inside her head alone. Out of everybody here, she needed a good night's rest
"Shit…" Andre muttered.
"You swore!" Jordan and Marie whispered in unison.
"Focus," Cate said quietly as she softly clapped her hands to get their attention. "That police chief psychic might be a bit weaker than me but undoing his commands still took a lot out of me. I might not be able to do that again, so we have to act as relaxed and as casual as possible. Understood?"
They all nodded—quickly at first, then more deliberately as they took Cate's warning to heart.
"So what's the plan?" Marie asked.
"Can't we fight our way out of this place once they take our collars off?" Andre suggested as he cracked his knuckles.
Jordan shook his head in disapproval. "They wouldn't take our collars off, first of all. And they've already covered all the entrances. If those supes were smart they would've made sure their guys would be able to handle a gun. I'm probably the only one here who's solidly bulletproof."
"Fair enough," Andre sighed disappointedly. "Only metal here are the guns, anyway."
Marie hummed, "We have to find a way to break the collars before we get moved to wherever they'll take us next."
The four kids would spend the next two hours going through different plans of escape. Weighing the pros and cons of each action to ensure they considered every possible route to freedom.
"Y'know… I think John is planning on making you his successor…"
Marcus's eyes widened in shock. "... What?"
Nathan burped, "Eeeyup. He hasn't said it outright but I can just tell."
The fake police chief could only shake his head in disbelief. "There is no way in hell that would happen. I'm not cut out for that kind of work."
Nathan raised his left eyebrow incredulously before taking a swig of his beer. "What, being a leader? Managing large groups of people at a time? Gee, it's almost like that's what you're doing right now."
Marcus squeezed his beer mug a little more, a thoughtful look on his face. "What makes you think he would?"
"For the loooongest time, that man has treated you as his second in command. He always hoists you with the uhhh, whatcha call it?" Nathan snapped his fingers repeatedly, trying to find that word that was on the tip of his tongue.
"Managerial?"
"Manahjerial jobs, yup," Nathan chuckled as he took another large sip. "Before you came here you were always the one playing overseer. Figuring out how much money everybody's getting, logistical routes, blah blah blah. Out of anyone else in the Godolkin Group you have the most experience managing the empire. Sides' himself, y'know?"
"Do you… If I hypothetically took over for Godolkin… Do you think I would do good?"
"Are you kidding? I think you could do better than John. He's been letting those Exalted and Shining Light fucks run up and down Cali. And it wasn't until they tried to make a move on Nevada and Arizona when he finally decided to send me, Elvan and Grisha after em'. I doubt you would let shit get that bad."
Marcus realised just how much faith his friend had in him.
"Well wherever I go, I hope you'll have my back Nathan."
Nathan nodded, "You know I will Marcus. Always."
"... What do you think I should rename the Godolkin Group to if I took over?"
"Uhhh… Marcus Marks?"
Marcus paused, before letting out a bellow of laughter as he raised his mug to his mouth and gulped down half of it.
"Absolutely fucking not!" He shouted whilst they happily clinked drinks.