Dan was lot worse at controlling his impulse towards reckless acts of violence. It took a lot more than touching his arm and saying his name to stop Dan. He drove me batshit with it sometimes.
“‘Murder everyone’ isnot a plan,brother,” I would say, all bitchy like I was when he was being especially agitating about something. He agitated me a lot. Mostly not on purpose. But no matter how many times he annoyed the shit out of me, I put up with his tendency to go off script on missions. Ionly got pissed at him for real when we wereexcessivelyshot at.
Seriously, though, some of these militant groups need to revisit their bullet-rationing procedures because it comes across as aggressive overcompensation, and I am getting pretty fucking tired of humouring their insecurities.
I'm very close to panting like a dog when mycell door finally swings open to reveal a lone FISA agent.
He looks about my age, tall and muscular, with ice-blue eyes and pale skin, his hair raven-feather dark and disastrously messy. He’s wearing a FISA uniform, all black, well fitted, with body armour on full display.
I know him.
Leo. That’s his name. The man with the dog. The man who handcuffed me to a toilet. The lunatic who promised to protect me from Obsidian Inc.
I've dealt with FISA before but admittedly not much and only ever from a distance.They're well-known for their strong relationship with the superhero community.
Apart from that, FISA has managed to keep their secrets locked up tight. Obsidian Inc. considers them their most direct rival in the utterly pointless game of “who has the right to control what and kill whom?”
Leo gives me a disturbingly genuine smile.He’s all animated, like a cartoon character who somehow managed to escape through the television screen.
"You're awake! Mate, that’s brilliant,” Leo exclaims excitedly. “They said you'd be out for at least another few days. Yet more proof themedical teamis full of shit, and youshouldn't ever listen to them."
Before I can react to any of that, Leo goes right on talking.
"Hey, so how are you feeling? Sorry you had to wake up alone in here, but they said medical wasn't secure enough. I volunteered to come and get you. They didn't wanna let me, but I thought you'd get all weirded out and snarly if you were in here for too long without anyone to tell you what is going on."
I have absolutely no idea how to respond to this. I've never been hit with the nice-guy routine right off the bat before. They usually like to fuck with you a little bit first, make you grateful for the fake reprieve when it comes. Whatevertactic they're going with isn't something I'vedealt with from any other ABC agency. Most government agencies have standard by-the-bookinterrogation techniques that frankly bore the shit out of me. What they do to their enemies is nothing compared to what Obsidian Inc. does to their own agents.
I think about attacking thisidiot because he's standing in the doorway like someone who has no fucking clue how easy it would be formeto snap his neck.He's either an amazing actor, or FISA is getting sloppy with their training.
After a moment's consideration, I decideto letourinteractionplay out a little bit longer.He’s an unknown quantity. It’s not worth the risk to hurt him and book it out of here without getting a better idea of what the shitty details of my situation are first.
I've heard plenty about FISA recruiting young potential superheroes. If that’s their play, they’re wasting time on me. I’d rather stab myself in the eye with a spork than don a mask and go around playing hero.
There has to be more going on with Leo as well. Powers. Enhancements. Secret skill set.
That's the only reason I can think of as to why his boss would allow Leo to get anywhere near me. Alone.Unless FISA is more ruthless than I gave them credit for, and they want me to kill him. I like a messy fight but fighting someone with unknown superpowers would just be plain reckless.
I could ask Leo where I am, butno agent, even a really green one, would reveal that kind of information. I could ask himwhat I'm doing here, but I already know the answer to that. It's the same asit was every other timeI've been detained by an agency like this. They want to know whatever information I have that can help themtake outObsidian Inc.
"Take me to your leader, dickhead," I say, ready to get this whole thing moving so I can kill who I need to kill and get out of here.
Leo beams at me like I've just given him something shiny. He moves out of the doorway and gestures for me to follow him. I get off the bed slowly, watching for any signs this isn't exactly what it seems. I trust my enhanced hearing to tell meif anyone else is close by, but it would be stupid to rely on just that. There's no telling what these people have done to me whilst I was out.
Leo mentioned a medical unit. FISA likely wanted to check me over. They must have undressed me at some point too because my OI-provided clothing has been replaced by grey jogging bottoms and a plain white T-shirt.
I leave my cell and follow Leo down the corridor of what looks like a standard agency base. The floor is concrete, and thewalls are made of metal. There are no windows anywhere. The base appears to be entirely illuminated by LED lights, which are commonly used in underground facilities.
Everything is metal and plastic, no glass.
It doesn't take long for Leo to start talking again. We walk side by side, the corridorswide enough to do so even with our large frames.
"You can ask questions if you want, you know." Leo sounds almost conversational. He turns another grin on me. It's horrifyingly naive. "I won't be able to tell you everything, but there's some stuff I'm authorised to talk to you about."
I have toseriously clamp down on the urgetoknock him to the groundand rip out his jugular with my teeth. Violence beats out a steady rhythm inside me. It's hot and molten and eager to put thought into action. My fingers twitch with it. I don't like being played with like this.
"Alright, shithead, did your boss actually order you to become my BFF, or are you taking that initiative yourself?"I flash Leo a grin. It isn't a nice grin.All teeth and malice. "If we're gonna be carving our initials into a fucking tree later, then I call first dibs on getting to hold the knife."
Leo, far from looking perturbed by my response, laughs. He laughs. Right to my face. He.Laughs.
