The doctor exited the room and uncomfortably squeezed past the two large men dressed in the standard issue dark grey coloured body armour of R.A.I.D. Enforcers. His eyes on the floor, he didn't make it two steps before being set upon by R.A.I.D. Supervisor Birkshire, causing the doctor to leap back as he raised his eyes to the obstacle that appeared before him.

"What is the condition of Mr. Trousseau, doctor?" Asked the R.A.I.D. supervisor.



A look of frustration befell the doctor's face, as this was about the tenth time that day he was ambushed by Birkshire with inquiries about his patient. "He still can't be moved, Mr. Birkshire." the doctor bluntly told him.

The supervisor had become accustomed to attitude he received from the doctors who were frustrated by the presence of R.A.I.D., as they felt they impeded their ability to best serve their patients. "Need I remind you, doctor, that I require progress reports, and that your patient is a felon and a dangerous meta-human." Birkshire countered.

The doctor tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat and reluctantly conceded to the will of the R.A.I.D. supervisor. "He's stable at the moment, but we may have to up his doses and possibly induce coma if we are unable to successfully treat his infection."

"He's conscious then?" Assumed Birkshire.

"No. It would just be a precaution. So you won't be interrogating him anytime soon." The doctor answered, delighting a little in the R.A.I.D. Supervisor's disappointment before he side stepped and continued on his way down the aisle of the burn unit.

Supervisor Birkshire spun around and watched the back of the departing doctor, his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his jacket. He had wished he could have told him just how serious the meta-human problem was becoming but keeping the public ignorant was protocol. His intense stare then fell on the guards as he held up his hand, making his I.D. wristband visible. A guard retrieved a small device from his belt, similar to a PDA but with much more capabilities. Holding it up before, the Supervisor's hand, the device emitted a blue light that scanned its entire surface and the wrist band. The monitor screen read, 'processing' for a few seconds, as it ran a DNA analysis and cross referenced the results with the identification provided by the wrist band. A rather serious looking photograph of Blake Birkshire appeared on the screen, and the words 'Clearance Approved', appeared beneath the information.

"Thank you, Agent Birkshire." Said the Enforcer, who actually personally knew the Supervisor, but R.A.I.D. was always on guard against infiltration from meta-humans and over the years they discovered mutations that enabled anything from a chameleon-like defense mechanism to the complete duplication of another organism.

R.A.I.D. stressed professional conduct at all times but the Supervisor still gave a nod and addressed the guard as, "Frank." before proceeding into the room.

The windowless room was a cool, clean white. On the far side of the room a counter top ran the length of the wall with various medical devices neatly arranged along its grey surface. In the center, was the prisoner, Robert Trousseau, a.k.a, Robert DiVinne, lay motionless in a hyperbaric chamber, an extensive area of his skin covered with saline soaked strips of gauze. A tall man in his thirties, fit, wearing a very fashionable suit stood beside a saturation monitor, reading over a chart.

"Blake!" The man greeted flashing a million dollar smile as he crossed the room to shake the Supervisor's hand, "It's been, what? Four years?" He asked furrowing his brow.



"Five." Corrected Agent Birkshire, a slight smile to his otherwise solemn expression. "How are you liking the detention centre?" He asked while he made his way over to the side of DiVinne.

Michael Eden had been waiting for his former partner to bring that up. Five years ago, he had requested a transfer to the R.A.I.D. research division on the grounds that he was no longer able to deal with the stress of field operations, but the real reason was that he couldn't deal with agent Berkshire. Now, his old partner would most likely be questioning his return to the field, probing to uncloak a truth he always suspected. A lot of water had passed under the bridge since then, and honestly, agent Eden, really didn't care if he discovered the truth or not, but for the duration of the time they would be working together he wanted to avoid as much confrontation as possible.

"It's good." Michael answered.

"You're part of the 'rat lab' now, is that right?" Probed Birkshire.

Agent Eden smiled to disguise of his irritation. "I am in meta-anthropological studies, my original area of expertise.", he corrected.

Birkshire nodded, and continued to stare at Robert DiVinne. He sanctioned the study of meta-humans for only one purpose and that was to determine their weaknesses, anything else was a waste a time. "What did you see under this glass, agent Eden?" He formally asked.

Michael glanced at the subject then briefly flipped through his chart before answering. "We don't have a lot of information on his mutation, but apparently he can manipulate plant life on a cellular level. It is really fascinating. I remember watching the news years ago, and seeing him—"

"I see a fugitive, agent Eden." Interjected Birkshire, "Nothing more, and the sooner he is in a cell, the better I'll rest at night. Now how soon can you move him."

By Birkshire's tone, it was evident to Eden that he had already made up his mind about what occurred five years ago, but their friendship dwindled quickly after he left, despite his efforts to keep in touch.

"The doctors said—"

Eden was cut off again by the supervising agent. "I know what they say. There has been a new development."

Birkshire then disclosed that he had just been granted complete control over Mr. DiVinne, and this piqued Eden's interest settling him into complacent state of general interest. "I received word a few hours ago that there will be attempt to free this prisoner." Birkshire continued, "This has come from the top, and they're rarely wrong. Now, I want to know how soon you can move the prisoner to the Eastern Detention Centre."

This was almost too good to be true. When Birkshire had called him in to deal with Mr. DiVinne, Eden had thought the best he could attain would be some blood samples, but this was far than he could have hoped for. At the detention centre DiVinne's mutant ability could be researched properly, and now learning that R.A.I.D. had been granted exclusive rights to him, he could supersede basic humanitarian codes; the possibilities would be endless!

Eden took a look at how the hyperbaric chamber was set up and made a quick assessment. "The entire unit can be transferred but the problem lies with the infection his body is fighting off. It commonly occurs in patients who have suffered burns over a large part of their body, but I am confident that my team can keep him stable." He paused then as, Birkshire thrust him a glare that screamed 'let's get on with it', and so he just blurted out what he wanted to know, "Tomorrow. We can move him, tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

The supervising agent was pleased with that schedule. "Good. Now if you will excuse me, I have some security issues to see to. Thank you, agent Eden." Birkshire was just about out the room as he finished his sentence and he never bothered with a farewell, he had no time for niceties at this point in time, not when he had to make sure that everything was set to ensure that his prisoner made it to the detention centre.

Exiting the double doors of the Burn Unit, agent Birkshire hung a right and proceeded past both nursing stations and crossed into a corridor to his right. He walked to the end of the hallway, past the patient-doctor conference room and opened the last door at the end of the hall. Inside the spare room, had been converted into a monitoring station for the Intensive Care Ward. Three enforcers sat before their terminals, their eyes trained on two screens each, which were divided into several video windows revealing every possible angle of the ward and surrounding aisles.

Birkshire walked over to the far corner of the room, where a fourth enforcer, sat a desk with a couple monitors before him, and stacks of folders and disks. "Is everything set, captain?" He asked.

The captain promptly stood when he noticed the supervising agent walk in. "Yes sir." He responded, "He have cameras with thermal capabilities installed around the perimeter, plus all elevators and stairwells on the main floor are being monitored. The roof is rigged with lasers that will engage plasma bursts or tranquilizer rounds, we've advised all hospital staff to avoid it. Enforcers have been placed at all possible exits and elevators on the main floor. The second and fourth floors are currently being patrolled and we have camera's set at all exits, and as per your request we have disguised several enforcers at nurses, technicians or doctors to countermand any infiltration."

The supervising agent nodded approvingly. "What about the automated surveillance units?"

The captain, reached into a box beside him and procured a small disc-shaped robot with a helicopter-like propeller in its center. On its belly was a silver sphere housing motion sensors and optics with thermal and infrared capabilities. "Just arrived today." He told Birkshire as he showed one of the hovering cameras to the Supervisor. "As you requested, they are currently patrolling the second, third and fourth floor. If you want to speak through the robot, just talk into this microphone."

"Very good." Commented Birkshire.

The supervising agent made himself comfortable in office lounger, content with the safety measures. He had witnessed with his own eyes the security of the intensive care ward, each exit with four guards as per his request, plus back up in the burn unit. All of his men were armed with plasma rifles and tranquilizer guns along with their standard fire arms, but out of consideration to patients, staff and visitors the enforcers and agents had been instructed to use the tranquilizers and electrical bursts first.

Birkshire's eyes looked up at the clock on the wall, which read 4:10pm, then he settled in and closed his eyes, stealing a few winks to prepare himself for the long night ahead. If anyone was coming after DiVinne, they would have to strike tonight or tomorrow, after that they would be able to transport him to a place that no meta-human would dare go, that is if they could find it.

Tim and Yelena stood just inside the doorway of the kitchen and grinned as Shawn threw Cassius on his ass, in an impressive Nija move. "Nevur under estimate yur opponet thar pardnar. ... Faye ya tell yur friend thar good move I'm right impressed, he'll fit right in with us." Tim then walked over and examined the communication devices and the maps.

Yelena furrowed her brows as she witnessed what took place. She was impressed with Shawn’s moves, yes, but there seemed to be something just below the surface that made her a little wary of him. He reminded the shape shifter of a rebellious teenager. There was a great deal of potential in him, yes, but would he use it for the good of humanity or would he use it for what ever purpose suited his needs, regardless of the consequences?

Looking over at Faye, Yelena gave her a small smile then she sought Zoe. Finding the red haired young woman, she cleared her throat softly.

“Zoe? Has any more news of Robert come through? I fear the longer we leave him in authorities custody, the less chance we have of bringing him home.”

Glancing around again, she furrowed her brows once more.,

“Did packages arrive yet?”

Zoe's eyes were also narrowed in Shawn's direction even after Cassius got up and disappeared through the back door. Saying nothing about it, however, she turned instead of Yelena and said in her monotone voice, "I intercepted a phone call for an armored transport. They are going to try to move him. Chances are we will have to try to get to them while they are transporting him and before they make it to the prison." She paused as the sound of a motorcycle's hum broke through the quiet kitchen and turned to see Cassius speeding off on a black Kawasaki Ninja through the tall grass that obscured the little cottage. Zoe then nodded towards him and said, "the packages are in. Dominic just went to pick them up."

Slipping past Yelena, the quiet young woman headed for the secret entrance in the wall and disappeared for a moment before she poked her head out again and said, "I am going to keep tabs on them until it's time. There's going to be a lot of activity around there and I wanna be in on it." She then vanished again behind the wall, the sound of the trap door thudding shut in her wake.

“What does this file tell us?” Special Agent Henkel asked himself. “Why does a known, dangerous and fugitive meta human keep a file about his dead girlfriend with him even though she’s been dead for almost half a century?”

“The questions do keep piling up, don’t they?” He said trying to imitate Jameson, making the mouth movements with his left hand.

“I wish you were more useful than a toilet brush in a nuclear war, Rick. But yes, they do.” Despite being preposterous Henkel found it to be calming to pretend talking, and most importantly, making fun of his colleague. He’d do it in person, but he had run off, as was typical. Luckily he had retreated in a room filled with patients who were all trapped in a deep coma, since all the proper offices had been secured for RAID. Damned egotistical bastards with tiny testicles.

“Well, at least the file is something of a clue, there are several references from which we can conclude it is part of a series of files on an unknown subject. All of the clues we can trace at least slightly lead to programs or projects for which we do not have and will never get clearance to learn anything from while others don’t even give us the slightest inkling of what it might be all about.”

“That is true, Jameson. We are also pretty sure Perovanini didn’t have access to this kind of material and given the projects with which it is being linked this file has been produced somewhere in the last decade. Part of the file however consists of very old records, like Nora Velderman’s death certificate and an autopsy report, which was not very enlightening. Hell, they even looked up her last resting place, and -I’m not kidding- they dug her up.”

“That’s sick, Simon.” Pretend Rick said.

“Sure is, my worthless partner. While you’ve been talking up the nurses I also found that the people who made this file made some very unusual notes concerning the woman’s death.”

“Maybe you should show it to one of the doctors around here to see what they think of it.”

“That’s a great idea, Jameson. If only I had thought of that already. Wait. I did! While you were busy wanking I had a doctor take a look. Of course the man happened to be an oncologist so he had little input on the matter, but he pointed me in the direction of a good virologist but he didn’t know what to make of it either. Any more bright ideas?”

“Any more bright ideas about what?” Jameson asked as he entered the room. Henkel quickly tried to naturally let his hand shift out of handpuppet mode and act casually as he realized he almost got caught. “Getting a cup of coffee was your idea.”



“I’m aware, Rick. But sometimes getting up and taking a walk gets the brain going down corridors that otherwise remain closed… I figured it didn’t hurt to ask if you got any insights while you were out.” Simon lied as best he could, “I was hopeful, since you were gone for a very long time.” He deflected to boot.

“Oh, yeah, I walked into an old buddy of mine. We both applied for RAID and were in the same batch during selection. As it turns out he ended up as a RAID goon while I became a Special Agent, so I guess he got the short straw in that one eh?” Rick laughed.

“I figured you’d prefer being a RAID goon over being an FBI one…” Henkel said as he took a steaming cup of coffee out of Jameson’s hands.

“Hey! I’m not a goon. I investigate stuff.” Rick defended himself.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who does all the thinking and you’re the one chasing people and shooting at things. In my book that makes you a goon.” Henkel poked his partner.

“That so? Well, I’ll prove you wrong. I did certainly do some thinking. Just now, even.”

“Surprise me.”

“As I said, I walked into this old buddy of mine, and so naturally I tried to use that as an in to get some information about RAIDs plans. See? I got all investigationary, there.”

“Bravo.” Henkel said unimpressed as he sipped his coffee.

“Yeah, well shut up, there’s more. He told me there’s going to be a rescue attempt for Di Vine and despite all the security they set up, they’re going to move him hopefully before his friends get a chance to come over here to grab him.”

“What? Why? They can’t do that, he’s not stable!” Henkel jumped up from his chair.

“Yeah, I know, but they’ve got all the paperwork to transfer him anyway.”

“The bastards!”

“Do you mind?” Rick tried to continue his little story, “So, instead of waiting for this miracle cure of theirs they’re taking Di Vine to the cure before they are at a risk of having him freed. And they intend to do move him tomorrow, and get him settled into his new, and very permanent home, before the end of the day.”

“That leaves us with even less time than we already had.” Henkel concluded.

“On the bright side, we can be pretty confident that this means the meta humans we are trying to nail are in fact coming out here.”

Simon blinked for a moment. That fact had not quite occurred to him before his colleague pointed it out. Turns out he’s good for more than chasing down very fast running fugitives. This came in handy because Henkel always got stabbing pains in his side if he had to run for very long, but now his partner had an added use. Of course, he didn’t want Rick to know and get all smug about it, so Simon had to quickly throw out a good idea to overshadow Rick’s discovery.

“In which case we’ll be waiting for them.” Henkel quickly decided.

“Well, yeah, that was the general idea.” Rick said.

“It may be kind of obvious, but… uh…” Now he had to come up with the kicker, “We make sure everything seems like their precious Robert is still right here, even after RAID has taken him off. And instead of finding their friend in that hyperbaric chamber, they’ll find a trap has been sprung right in their very faces!”

“I don’t see the need for all that… We just jump them as soon as they enter the hospital.”

“That isn’t going to work, they won’t make it that easy. You should probably give your brain a rest before you overexert yourself. No, everything needs to be just perfect or they’ll figure something is up.”

“They are a crafty bunch…” Jameson had to admit.

“Alright, let me make the necessary arrangements… I guess that means I’ve got to talk to the man in charge of RAID around here.”

“Bloody Blake Birkshite.” The two of the Special Agents said in tandem. They laughed for a moment but then when Simon finished his coffee he dumped the empty cup in his partner’s hands and said; “Whish me luck.”

“Good luck, Agent Henkel.” Birkshire said as he shook Simon’s hand in the doorway leading out of his office.

“We’ll get them, don’t worry, and I appreciate the help you’re willing to give us.” Henkel said and smiled at the large black man, let his hand go and stepped into the hallway where Rick was already waiting.

“And when you do.” Birkshire said after Henkel had already turned around, “We’ll be glad to lock them up right next to their buddy; Di Vine.”

“I’m sure you are…” Henkel muttered to himself as he walked past his partner and headed back towards the room with the coma patients before discussing the matter of their trap.

“So!? He’s going to have his men stay in the hospital to help us catch the fugitives, huh?” Jameson inquired hopefully. However Henkel remained silent until they had made it back into their “office”.

He sighed heavily before he was forced to share the cold hard facts with his partner.
“Basically Birkshire isn’t doing squat to help us.”

“Why? What’s he got to lose? He’s going to end up with half a dozen more inmates if he helps us.” Rick couldn’t understand why that wasn’t reason enough to help them.

“He sees it as a chance to lose one inmate, instead of gaining more. I bet it would cost him his head if he lost Di Vine after gambling with the likes of us for capturing Perovanini’s accomplices. But, he was willing to help synchronize both of our objectives, and the few RAID agents that were going to be left behind to remove all the added security anyway, will also be on call in case we need them. Still the fact remains we’ll be relying on New York’s own to take these perps down.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Henkel said and shrugged, “I’m not fond of working with these smug RAID bastards, they’ve got the easy job of holding them trapped in a tiny room, while the local enforcers are the ones chasing them across the city. Point is, after RAID set up the locals went home, except for a few. We’d have to call them back in, get them set up, the whole kit and caboodle. There’s precious little time and no margin for error.”

“Alright, alright. But we can do all that, Simon. So what’s the plan?”

“Initially RAID was simply going to clear out the corridors and escort the prisoner under heavy guard towards the armored transport awaiting at the receiving dock. Obviously if they do that there’s no possible way of convincing anyone Di Vine is still right here with us. So instead of that we orchestrate a ruse and fake a medical emergency, let’s say Perovanini starts to suffer from a sudden internal bleeding at around half past twelve and needs to get that hole plugged in an operating theatre or he’ll die?

We’ll make it look like it’s the real deal of course, allowing for discrepancies in RAID security and all that. Act like there is actual concern and chaos. There’s no way the fugitives will risk a rescue as long as they believe their friend requires surgery or will die. We’ll roll him into the elevator that leads almost directly towards surgery where we’ll have an operating theatre full of agents disguised as doctors ready to receive him, just in case.

Obviously Perovanini is not about to get any kind of surgery and there’s a decoy Di Vine already present inside the theatre that will be used. We already have claimed some poor guy who gave his body to science to fall in for our plant loving criminal. Just to keep it real the doctors will open him up and muck about for about 15 to 20 minutes, after which the decoy will be rolled into recovery.

In the meantime the real Di Vine has been rolled out through the other entrance into the operating room and is sent directly towards an ambulance that is standing by to pick him up. It will drive away and after a corner or two it’ll be out of sight and that’s where RAIDs convoy will secure the ambulance.”

“What about the armored transport?” Rick wondered.

“It will remain at the receiving dock. By the time the fugitives arrive at the hospital they are sure to notice the armored transport and will want to keep an eye on it. RAID is willing to sacrifice the little bit of extra protection of the transport for the smoke screen we’ll be creating for them.

Back inside we can expect that the fugitives will feel most confident in their success as long as Di Vine is in recovery where we will make sure are plenty of troops to stand watch at the doors where you’d expect them, but they know the recovery room simply won’t have the kind of the kind of security equipment as room 305. Despite appearances we’ll have most of our men disguised as personnel or guests while others are out in the open and yet others are in hiding to jump into action as soon as we know they have taken the bait. We’ll be prepared to lock down the entire hospital at that time and to top it all off we’ll rig decoy Di Vine with a little surprise for those who dare venture into the recovery room.”

“What if they don’t show up?”

“Birkshire has requested we keep up the farce for three hours to give him more than enough time to take the real Di Vine out of reach. But they’ll come. They know they have to, or they get to kiss Robert’s wrinkly ass goodbye. You can say what you want about these meta’s but they do have a code amongst themselves. They’ll be here. And we’ll be ready.”

“Alright!” Rick said all pumped, “Let’s make some calls and get this underway.”

“Don’t bother, I made the calls while meeting with Birkshire, all has been arranged and the first people will arrive in…” Henkel took a look at his watch, “Give or take 20 minutes. Better make use of this down time, we won’t get much as soon as the Riggs Act enforcers get here.”

Though she couldn’t say she approved of roughhousing indoors, Siege was actually glad to see Shawn throw Cassius over the couch. Zoe’s words about the young meta being her responsibility had lingered with her, and she wasn’t the least bit certain Shawn would be more of an asset than a liability…until now.

At least he seems capable, when it comes down to it, she reflected as she frowned at the astonished Cassius. And more aware than one would expect.

After Siege apologized to Shawn on Cassius’s behalf on the translator, ‘Sorry about Cassius. Cowboy is impressed, tho…’ they continued to work on the sign language until Cassius returned with their disguises and other supplies. Then it was time for a much-needed lunch break. By that point, Siege had committed the alphabet up through P, more or less to mind. Anything after L she was still having trouble with, though.

She concocted a salad from the groceries Cassius had faithfully returned with and poached a few eggs to have on toast. While the heroes ate, they went over their plan again as the finer details took shape.

“If they’re planning on transporting him, I imagine we’ll want to be on the ground even earlier than planned,” Siege commented and frowned, imagining continuing her education in tactile sign in the back seat of an automobile. When the others glanced at her, perhaps for elaboration, she went on, “We’ll have to send in a scout, won’t we?” She couldn’t help but glance at Chameleon. “And furthermore, what does it tell us, that they’re planning this transport so quickly after the accident? They must suspect a rescue attempt.”

When Zoe came in from the secret door, Siege watched her, anxious to hear if she had any updates for them. Her stomach was even agitated and she didn’t feel like eating the lunch she’d made.

Jeb was uncharacteristically both nervous and excited as he prepared for his interview. This interview with Our Lady of Mercy hospital had almost literally fallen in his lap after being in town only three days. He had moved from Toronto to New York without any specific employment lined up, but he'd stashed away enough in his savings that he knew he could survive for six months, maybe seven, which would have been plenty of time to find gainful employment in his new town.

Our Lady of Mercy was one of the foremost hospitals for kinesiology in the North American continent, and just having the opportunity to interview was a thrill beyond belief for the young Canuck. Jeb was confident enough for three people in just about everything, so this sensation of excitement and nervousness was a bit unsettling for him this morning. He chalked it up to too many changes in too few days, but still had a sense that something extraordinary was ahead of him.

"Damn these ties!" Jeb cursed silently. He'd never been good at tying them, and was even more uncomfortable when he had to dress up. His idea of dressing up consisted of the jeans without the worn areas and holes and a sweater over a button down shirt. But this was New York City, and one did have to fit in, he surmised. He finally got something between a full Windsor and a half Windsor to stay tied, and it didn't look half bad, so he decided to leave well enough alone.

Picking up his suit coat and swinging it on as he strode towards the door, Jeb quickly reviewed the directions to the hospital in his mind. A twenty minute subway ride, which would deposit him one block from the hospital, then probably 10 to 15 minutes of waiting until the interviewer was ready for him. Jeb knew he had plenty of time to make a good impression. He exited his apartment, securing the door behind him, and headed down the hall towards the stairs. His apartment was on the third floor and the jaunt down the stairs would be good to get some adrenalin flowing, since he hadn't taken the time to do his normal morning work out routine.

Jeb reached the bottom of the stairs to see a man in what appeared to be a military uniform put down the paper he was reading, stand up, and head straight towards the newcomer to the city. The directness of the man's movements raised the hairs on the back of Jeb's neck. Not knowing anyone in the Big Apple, Jeb slowed his pace, tensing ever so slightly and preparing for whatever might happen.

"Good morning Mr. Corvus," the uniformed man began. His uniform announced that he was a U.S. Marine, and the birds on his shoulders revealed he was a colonel. But there was something not quite right about his accent, which indicated to Jeb that the man could be impersonating an officer. "I don't mean to startle you on this beautiful New York morning, but I have matters of the utmost importance to discuss with you. I apologize for the abruptness of this meeting as you are so new to the city, but the consequences far outweigh any social faux pas that meeting like this might incur. I would like to offer you a ride to your interview so that we may talk while we ride."

Jeb gave no indication that he was surprised that this man knew of his interview. He knew that if necessary he could use his powers to escape practically any situation, and if needed he could deliver some serious damage prior to making an escape.

"Well, you will save me subway fare, I guess," Jeb offered with a sly smile. He looked out the building's glass front doors to see the limousine waiting. "And my first ride in New York will be in a limo, not a bad way to start."

The uniformed man smiled back, appreciating Jeb's attempts to diffuse the situation with humor. "Thank you, you will not regret coming along. I think my offer might intrigue you at best." The two men exited the building and walked towards the limo. As the uniformed man opened the door for Jeb, he said, "Please, call me Surge."

Yelena took the news of transporting Robert as both a pleasant surprise and a cause for concern. Especially after what she heard Faye say about a possible trap for the would be rescuers. The young woman was more contentious than she’d first realized. And what she said, made perfect sense.

As Faye’s eyes turned upon Yelena, the Russian woman felt suddenly singled out and why, she didn’t know. It wasn’t like her abilities were a secret. Especially to the intimate group around her. In fact, she’d prided herself on her abilities to get into places the others normally couldn’t. But there was something about the way this whole situation was coming together that made the small hairs on the back of her neck raise in warning and give her cause for hesitation.
“If authorities are moving Robert, could be only opportunity we have to rescue him. I will take what ever form necessary but I will not be able to do so until we get there and see what we are up against.”

Already in her mind, Yelena knew she would have to be in some sort of medical professional disguise and from there, who knew. A black suit? A SWAT member? Something entirely different? What ever it was, she knew she’d be ready for it and then some when the time came. Just as long as she didn’t need to remain in disguise any longer than two hours. That’s when things would do very sour.

As her eyes scanned the room, she saw a mixture of determination and anxiousness looking back to her. With the help of the uniform disguises Zoe had secured for them, it would all come down to who got the surprise on who to begin with.

About an hour later, the door in the wall slid open and Cassius drifted into the room, followed closely by Zoe, each of them holding a box.

"Whassup, dudes! I come bearing contraband or some shit..." He grinned, biting down on an unlit cigarette as he and Zoe set the boxes onto the table, his leather motorcycle jacket groaning as he moved. Flicking open a pocket knife, Cassius ran it across the sealed top of the boxes excitedly. "I've been like, totally curious what's in our little costume party." Tossing the knife to O who nimbly caught it and opened her own box, Cassius dug into it and pulled out several white coats and a few shrink-wrapped and folded sets of scrubs. Sinking his arms a little deeper into the box Cassius rummaged around for another few seconds before he grinned even wider and pulled his hands out again, a few Styrofoam peanuts clinging to his hands. "Dude!" he exclaimed, unfolding a paper gown, "someone gets to walk around with their ass hanging out!" Setting these down, Cassius chuckled to himself and brushed the peanuts off of his hands before he reached into his pocket and lit the cigarette that was still dangling in his mouth while Zoe unloaded her box, which was full of more scrubs and a security guard uniforms.


"This looks like we've got our bases covered," said O finally as she piled them over the table and looked around at them all, though she settled on Yelena, "there should be enough here to send others along with you. I'm thinking the rest of us could blend in fairly easily as part of the medical transport, with the exception of maybe him," she went on, thumbing over her shoulder in Shawn's direction who was still sitting on the couch with his book and seemingly unaware of the packages' arrival.

"I wanna be a cop," Cassius broke in through a puff of smoke and grinning, "impersonating officers is fun." He chuckled again then glanced back at the others. "You didn't hear that." Ignoring him, Zoe looked around at everyone, her expression stony.

"So?" she said expectantly, "what do you want to do?"

Yelena looked at the different medical attire that had been acquired and the security guard uniforms as well. It looked as thought everything was set out there for them and all they had to do was dress and play the part and they could get to Robert. Hopefully.

But Yelena knew the best laid plans of mice and men were ever that easy. Exactly who was the mice and who were the men always seemed to rotate. Sometimes on an hourly basis. Still, as she let her fingers graze over the clothing, she bit her lip. If Zoe’s interception was right, they had little time to plan anything too elaborate and would have to merely figure it out as they went along once they got there. Looking over at Tim, she quirked her brows.

“Are you ready to play cop, Tim? Or at least, security guard?”

Looking around at the others, she let her gaze settle on them all for a moment.

“What ever we do, we must do quickly. Knowing authorities, they will try to move Robert as quickly as they can, regardless of his condition. We need to at least be in hospital to see what we are up against. If there is anything special we need to be prepared for.”

Glancing over at Cassius, she grinned slightly.

“Instead of cop, would you like to be patient, wrapped up like mummy? Only way we get to burn unit is to have burn patient. With Takashi’s help, you even smell like burn victim.”

Glancing over at Takashi, she smiled.

“No offense, Takashi. Your abilities will be asset to us on mission. You will be there to help us, not impair us.”

She looked over at Zoe then.

“You stay here and monitor situation or come with us in mobile command center?”

As she spoke, she pulled out a set of scrubs that were her size as well as a white coat to make sure she would have at least this costume she wouldn’t need to generate with her mind. The only thing she would need to do is make sure she changed her looks.

"Well I reckon that ain't gonna be too hard fur me ta do. Ya think Yelena?" Tim said with a grin as he picked up the security gaurd uniform. "Ya think me and "Smokey" here ought ta take the assault vehicle and hide it somewheres close, which ain't gonna be easy, just incase? Ya kin ride yur bike."

An entire section of the 'meta-anthro' research facility had been prepared to accommodate the experiments that surround the newest guest of the Eastern R.A.I.D. Meta-Detention Centre, or the ERMDC as it had come to be known. Doctor Michael Eden was just finishing up some last minute adjustments on one of the many devices that had been set up in the glass walled chamber when a distinguished looking man entered through the open door way. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and inspected the array of machines in the modern day Frankenstein's laboratory, studying them as one might view artwork in a gallery, awaiting for the doctor to take notice of him.

Agent Eden had noticed the man with meticulously styled hair and perfectly knotted tie before he entered the secure lab, but let him wait while he finished his calibrations. "Warden Tomes," he acknowledged while just entering a final sequence of algorithms, " what can I do for you?"

A slight smile crooked the corners of the warden's mouth at the question he had been eagerly awaiting. It was not often that he took pleasure in being vindictive, but he disliked how the good doctor always made him feel like a visitor to the research section of his prison.

"Birkshire has relinquished control of your prize lab rat to the F.B.I." The warden told him.

It was all to clear to Eden then why the warden had delivered the message in person. He straightened up and took a few steps toward Tomes. "When?"

"A few hours ago." Answered the warden while he examined a slight imperfection in one of his manicured nails, which as he had hoped, angered the doctor even more.

"God damn Birkshire! Trust him to pass the buck! Did he give any reasons for this decision?"

Warden Tomes just shook his head and proceeded to leave, but he couldn't resist to twist the knife just once. "You needn't worry, I am sure the Bureau will see that he arrives here safe and sound for your experiments."

Eden stood with his hands on his hips, seething while he watched the warden slowly stroll past the several other labs where meta-humans were being experimented on or in one case, dissected. He couldn't believe that Birkshire would pass Perovanini off to the Feds like that, he had to have a damn good reason to pull a stunt like that. As soon as the warden was well out of ear shot, Eden pulled out his phone and called Supervising Agent Birkshire to find out what the hell was going on.

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Toril shut off the TV. If someone had asked him to describe what he had just watched he honestly would not be able to recall a single detail, his mind had been focused the entire time on the mission. He checked the time to verify what his stomach was already telling him, it was nearing supper time and so he jumped through the shower and put on the clothes he purchased that afternoon. Toril probably could have gotten by with some of his own garments but he wanted to be sure he looked the part of a visiting doctor. He wore a stylish pair of kaki's, a sapphire blue dress shirt with the top button left undone, and wore his own grey sports jacket as he was unable to find an over-size man's shop that sold them.

As he slipped his fake I.D. card with the name Paul Carson into his pocket, Toril noticed that there was an email message waiting for him. The sender was simply 'B', and the email address was also a capitol 'B', and it read, ' target - Di Vine, a.k.a. Roberto Perovanini, scheduled to be moved. F.B.I. control, R.A.I.D. disband. Secondary operative to be activated...'

Toril wrote down the information, and not a second after he finished the email message deleted itself. If he didn't feel like it before, he certainly felt like he was walking into the belly of the dragon now. He considered backing out, but if Beacon was activating another meta-human then he couldn't just leave them without any backup. Toril read back the information, and wondered what the time was that they listed after the mention of the secondary operative, it obviously marked the arrival of his partner but where? He had no time, to figure it out at the present moment since he had to make his way to the hospital by public transport since his rental car was registered under the name of Roy Deckard and he couldn't leave it behind if he had to leave in a hurry.

While sitting on the train, Toril kept on wondering why RAID would hand over control of a meta-human to the FBI, it just didn't make sense. It was pretty obvious that a trap may be set, but it could be anything, but he considered that without the involvement of RAID, the FBI would be less inclined to detect meta-humans, at least he had that in his favour.

The main lobby of the hospital was a large open area, exposed to the floors above it. Toril, approached the information and asked the lady behind the counter where he could find 'genetics'. The woman told him it was on the fourth floor, then inquired out of curiousity what his business was because security had been recently increased.

"I specialize in genomics, here to learn how things are done on the east coast." Toril explained, then when he mentioned he was from Seattle the woman gave him a nod with a 'it figures' expression. She handed him a print out of a map so that he could find his way then told him to, "Make sure you have your I.D. exposed at all times.", then reading the badge Toril clipped it to his jacket pocket she said, "Have a nice day, Doctor Carson."

Toril followed the map and took the elevators marked with a 'G' to the fourth floor. He was actually quite comfortable with is false identity, it was very often that he was able to portray someone in his field. All he had to do was just remember his name and he could pretty much just act naturally.

Genetics was at the south end of the fourth floor and there was only one person in the lab when he arrived. Toril planned to introduce Paul Carson then do a little investigating when the opportunity arose.

Siege ticked off items on her fingers as she spoke. “Let’s see. We’re already going to have the ambulance. Someone must drive it up while the rescue team is inside—after Yelena and whoever else has done the preliminary scouting. We’ll also quite possibly have the mobile command center. How many vehicles do you think we should take? We’ll have to orchestrate our approach carefully.”

She finished the last mouthful of her salad and pushed the plate away. “I’ll have to stay with Shawn, obviously, and Takashi won’t be able to go in on the scouting mission, also for obvious reasons—no offense—but I don’t think Yelena should go in alone. Who would be the least conspicuous to join her?” She scanned the faces of the assembled heroes. “Lyrix, you are simply too well-known. As are you, Cowboy. They’ll have your faces all over their databases. Perhaps Void or Challenge should go with her. Or else, Shawn and I, with Shawn disguised as a patient. His infrared vision might be useful for spying, and he is an unknown. Also, I am not very well known, especially not here in the states. However, our communication is bound to be awkward, so we aren’t necessarily the ideal candidates.”

She arose and began clearing dishes off the table, waiting to hear what the group would decide. She wasn’t used to taking a leadership roll—she did her best work when flying along behind the trail-blazers by the seat of her pants—so she hoped they would reach a decision soon. Really, she reflected as she turned the hot tap on and squirted a few suds into the sink, this group needed someone to take charge of things and keep them moving forward. Yelena might be a good candidate, since she had a level head and seemed like she was willing to make decisions. In any case, it was a position Siege would do anything to avoid.

Another thing was clear to her as she glanced up at the gilded afternoon light spilling through the kitchen window. They didn’t have a lot of time to talk about it. With news of Robert’s being moved, they had to get on the ground and take stock of things. Chances were, they would still be discussing their options on the three-hour drive to New York.

She approached Shawn where he rested on the sofa. Though he didn’t stop perusing his brail book when she neared him, a subtle change in his posture told her that he was aware of her presence. She touched his hand and spelled, ‘H,I,’ as practice, then typed into his translator. ‘Get ready to go. Di Vine being moved, so we must get on-site now.’

Reading the text that Siege had typed to him, Shawn immediately shut his book and straightened himself on the couch. Even as he moved, his expression showing awareness and gravity, his eyes did not move from straight ahead and just slightly upward, continuing to stare into nothingness away from Siege. As he shut the book and raised his hands to help himself speak, the title sat exposed on Shawn's lap, printed in bold above the familiar raised bumps. Il Principe by Niccolo Machiavelli.

"You were gone a while," said Shawn, "if he's moving, then there's a new plan?"


Zoe paused, leaning on the table and thoughtfully lighting a cigarette.

"You shouldn't need more than two scouts," she said conclusively, "if you're careful and we have others hiding out as backup. I can also get into their computers and cause a diversion if need be, though I'd like to avoid that as it will immediately expose at least our presence and put them on even higher alert." Blowing a stream of gray-blue smoke from between his thin lips, Zoe straightened and looked around at the others gathered around her. "I don't know what you guys all do," she said, nodding particularly to Void, Lyrix, and Challenge, "but other than Siege and that deaf-blind kid with the infrared vision, our other best bet may be you, Dominic." She nodded towards Cassius who grinned through a screen of smoke that rushed out from his nose and mouth before dissipating into the air. "He's not a meta," Zoe clarified to the others as Cassius crumpled the cigarette into an ashtray on the table and leaned back against the wall. "If they have some way of detecting metas, then we'll still have at least one safe scout and Dominic can just keep up his act and pretend he didn't know Yelena was a meta. We can then deal with that if it happens... Don't worry," she added, addressing with a hard-eyed glance those whose faces fell with wide-eyed concern , "we've done things like this before. It's not as bad as it sounds."

There was a pause in which Zoe eyed them all expectantly, her hard expression blurred by the constant streams of smoke that brushed over her face. She then spoke again after a long drag off of the cigarette.

"We need to act now. It's a long ride to New York. I'd suggest you all pile into one or two vehicles if you can. Dominic, you can go separately on the bike in case something needs to change. The more unknown vehicles start gathering around that place, the more suspicious they're going to get. Get the basic plan together now," her voice became sharp, her stony expression matching the edge in her tone, "you can always pick apart the details on the way, either way," she tapped her ear, "I'll be listening in."