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Merc's Metamorphs

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Chapter 25: Fianchetto Bishop

As the last group to arrive, Merc's Metamorphs were left with the seats closest to the door at the end of an aisle. There were a half-dozen open seats and the group was ushered down to the first available one situated next to a short (for a Metamorph), dark-brown furred Stallion Metamorph; Merc recognized him immediately: Trigger-- a rather apropos name consider it was a suitable name for a Horse, but also because his Metamorph powers were unerring accuracy with ranged weapons, and a surreal telescopic vision. He was a member of The Reserves, a group of Metamorphs who were always under Legendary Unlimited's thumb; Merc wasn't surprised in the least to see him, and his other five team members present.

Rook took a seat next to Merc, followed by Bruiser and then Demon. Merc was surprised when Lieutenant Hopper sat down next to Demon. The Pitbull sent a mental message their way. "So... what's everyone opinion on the Roo? Is he a government stooge spying on us or just a convenient end-cap to the row?"

Bruiser didn't so much as miss a beat. "Give him the benefit of the doubt, but keep all important stuff to telepathy."

Rook began calmly smoothing his feathers as he continued the mental dialogue. "Everything about his military record suggests he was being up front and honest with us. I think he was probably just recruited for this task because he is a Metamorph and his presence is meant to calm all of us."

Merc was happy to accept the Raven's input but he didn't want to base their decisions on conjecture, sending back to his team "How far did you get into the military database to learn that?"

Despite having a beak, Rook's expression read as a self-satisfied smirk. "Apparently I can bypass security systems completely. Passwords, encryption, and firewalls may as well not exist. Oh-- and Demon's tinfoil hat conspiracy theory about the military turning Hopper was actually right. It's called 'Project Hecatoncheires', and the military men and women taking part in the experiment don't even know about it."

Bruiser grunted, continuing their silent conversation. "Hecatoncheires... that's from Grecian myth."

The Raven looked ahead to the center of the room where Secretary Alvarez and the old white guy in the military uniform were sharing a quiet (and heated) discussion, apparently getting ready to start. He added to the discussion without saying a word. "They were 'the hundred handed ones'... an army of monsters. Quite appropriate."

Merc took the opportunity to look further around the room, taking stock of the other Metamorph groups joining them. In addition to The Reserves, Merc recognized Blastoff, a group of four flying Metamorphs, as well as ROFL, a rather eclectic group of five 'punk rock' Metamorphs. The other three teams he didn't specifically recognize by name, but he recognized the members' faces enough to know that they were all Net Positive groups. Moreover, he was all but certain that none of those present were affiliated with the NALE. He interrupted the ongoing mental conversation of his group members to point that out. "Hey-- are all of these groups unaffiliated? I don't see any N.A.L.E.-aligned Metamorph groups here."

Demon responded first, his mental 'voice' holding a hint of scorn. "Affiliated? There's The Reserves-- they're so far up Unlimited's ass that they can see tonsils."

Merc scoffed, almost so much that he nearly did so physically. "Excluding Legendary Unlimited... nobody from N.A.L.E., nobody that works with the Dire Legion, or even served any time as enforces for the IPA Board."

Bruiser corrected Merc. "We've worked for the Dire Legion."

The Kangacobra scoffed. "OTHER than us. I'm pretty sure everyone here are pretty high in the Net Positive list and, yeah-- what Demon said."

Rook interjected. "Correct... no Dire Legion relationships other than Merc's Metamorphs. The Reserves are directly affiliated with Legendary Unlimited and, while Blastoff is an independent group, they do take contacts from Unlimited. ROFL has done some work for metropolitan police on the East Coast. Wavebreakers work closely with the US Coastguard and have done some work with Unlimited. Zephyr Override is fairly new to the scene, but they have done occasional work with Legendary Unlimited and three of their four members went through the Legendary Orientation program."

Merc didn't have to rely on the mental connection to know that Bruiser had tensed up; the experience they'd been through back before they'd become jaded made it an obvious reaction. Trying to push past that, the Kangacobra asked a follow-up question through their mental communication. "And they're all Net Positive?"

The Raven confirmed it. "Yes. In fact, most of the groups have twice the Net Positive rating of Merc's Metamorphs... you three are the closest to neutral out of everyone here."

Demon grunted audibly, but quickly switched his response to non-verbal mind speech. "I wonder if that means we're the only ones being blackmailed or whatever."

Just as Merc was looking around at the other groups he saw as well that they were being eyed by those present; egocentrism aside, he was fairly confident that his group was one of the most well known out of everyone present. He also took notice that a lot of eyes were lingering on Rook but, if anyone had any questions it was readily evident that there were no questions being asked. During his inspection of the other teams, the Secretary of State and the old white military guy finally finished their spat and Secretary Alvarez got things started. "Thank you all for coming. I am Secretary of State Claudia Alvarez, and I will be handling your briefing today."

The military suit next to her spoke up. "I am Major General William Davis, and Secretary Alvarez is here to help with--"

The Secretary waved him off. "Thanks, Bill... I'll handle it." She pushed a remote control into his hand. "Just make sure the computer has the slide show prepared."

The General was not good at hiding his emotions and Merc was fairly sure he saw a blood vessel pulsing visibly in his forehead; on one hand, the Kangacobra enjoyed watching entitled old white guys get shown up but, at the same time, his group was also under the Secretary of State's heel as well. His own distraction in watching the power dynamics was further complicated by Demon's metal comment "I bet a hundred bucks she owns a leather dominatrix suit and a whip."

Merc missed the next comments that were made but he recovered quickly and started paying attention again just as the Secretary of State got into the meat-and-drink of the premise for the meeting. "...which is why the current administration is seeking to maintain the spirit of the LPIA while divesting the more restrictive components that keep the United States from utilizing its resources to the fullest."

Bruiser grumbled mentally to the group "She means they're going to bend the rule as far as it can go without breaking it."

Almost as if the Orca's unspoken statement was serving as a segues, Secretary Alvarez jumped right into things. "According to the Limited Powered Interference Accord, State-Run militaries are unable to recruit, hire, or contract with Powered individuals. The agreement between nations is very strict on this matter and, as such, the US Military is unable to hire any of you."

She paused, allowing a few murmurs of displeasure run through the crowd. Rook sent out a mental message pointing that out. "She knows how to work a crowd. She is building up tension, gaining buy in, and, next, she is going to step up and give them what she tells them they want."

The Raven called it. Alvarez stepped up, her voice increasing in volume. "But all of you here-- you all want to make a difference!"

There were several strong voices speaking in agreement, and several smaller voices expressing positive ascent. One of the loudest speakers was Trigger, who stood up in his seat. "Damn right we do! Who in the hell has the right to tell us that we're not allowed to serve our country?!"

Bruiser's telepathic exclamation of "Que gonorrea!" seemed particularly reasonable to Merc.

Demon didn't quite get the turn of phrase, questioning in the group's mind speak "Did you just say 'gonorrhea'?"

His question went unanswered as the Secretary of State continued. "Thanks to several contacts at Legendary Unlimited, the US Military will be undertaking some corporate terms which will allow it to conduct 'exercises' involving Powered contractors. In addition, any contracts who are interested will have an opportunity to 'volunteer' for a selection of operations... those gathered were selected specifically for your talents, your prowess, and your dedication to the United States of America."

Another round of patrioitic bleats, growls, screeches, and roars from the audience and Merc felt like he was either going to be sick, or his eyes were going to roll out of their sockets... or both. Secretary Alvaez continued to explain that the operations in question would not be on the books; the 'gray-ops' would not be acknowledged by nor sanctioned by the United States and that that any interaction with foreign governments, military, or citizens would be a 'you are on your own' situation.

As far as Merc was concerned, that was bad enough, but Alvarez made it worse. "That brings us to the trial run of this initiative. I'm sure by now all of you have heard about the coup down south in Santagua..."

A collection of "Fuck." "Shit." and "Mierda." was sent collectively in the group's mental communication channel. Rook's "Oh." was the most mild of all statements.

It was worse than Merc had expected as a bright light from above illuminated him and the rest of his team. The Secretary of State made a wide, sweeping gesture toward the team. "What the news reports did NOT report on was that Merc's Metamorphs were responsible for lighting that fire. With their assistance, our foreign policy can once again move forward in aiding the ailing people of Santagaua in embracing a democratic system of governance and help the fine people there in finally being free."

Demon was the first to manage a comment via their private communication. "Merc, can you make one of your powers be to painlessly kill us now to end all this?"

Merc responded flatly "I am seriously tempted to turn my poison into face melting acid, and then spitting on that bitch. What a load of sh--"

The Secretary wasn't done. "Merc's Metamorphs... please stand! Everyone here wants to thank you for your service."

The Kangacobra had been so caught up in his head and the messaging with his team that he hadn't even noticed the thunderous applause. Suddenly faced with such approval made him immediately wish he hadn't. When he didn't stand up, Trigger just leaned down and gave him a rough slap on the shoulder followed by an emphatic "Fuckin' A, Merc. THAT'S how it's done!"

It took several minutes for the chaotic applause and shouts of approval to die down... far more minutes than Merc would have liked. Once it was more-than-obvious that Secretary Alvarez had everyone's attention, she got down to business. "Now that we're looking to expand this program to scale, we have six teams present, including Merc's Metamorphs, and I'm willing to bet that the rest of you are looking to chip in as well."

Another round of very eager agreement later and the Secretary of State began laying out the plans or, what she referred to as 'trial activities'. Despite the cloak-and-dagger nature of the meeting, the sidestepping of global accords, and her admission of 'gray-ops' activities, what she presented all sounded incredibly mundane. The Reserves were going to take down Russian arms dealers in Michigan; Blastoff was going to foil an attempted takeover of an international flight; ROFL was assigned a maple syrup smuggling bust on the Canadian border; Wavebreakers were set to intercept Cuban terrorists hidden among drift rafts of immigrants; and Zephyr Override got what sounded like the most excited task: they were going to space.

It sounded as though Zephyr Override was the recipient of the high profile job, until Secretary Alvarez brought up the final assignment. "Merc's Metamorphs has already completed their initialization, and their focus is to be apprehending a cartel from Mexico moving street drugs through Arizona."

A number of murmurs and hushed whispers arose in the room, which seemed to mirror Demon's comment in their mind-speak. "Really? That's pretty damn run-of-the-mill kind of stuff. This shouldn't be any big deal at all."

It did not take long for the other shoe to drop as the Secretary of State brought it all home. "We have reason to believe that, upon apprehending the smugglers, Merc's Metamorphs will find clues that lead them to the base of operations of the smuggling ring outside of Nogales. We have dossiers here, courtesy our partners at the CIA."

Lt Hopper slid files to each of them and Demon said (mentally) what was already on all their minds. "Never had an easier investigation than to be force-fed info from the CIA."

Alvarez continued. "The information Merc's Metamorphs find at the base will provide the location of the cartel headquarters, which they'll strike next."

Rook interjected. "Secretary Alvarez... the coordinates for the cartel base... unless I'm mistaken, this is in Sonora."

She nodded. "Correct."

The Raven's feathers fluffed out. "...that is in Mexico."

The woman was undeterred. "Yes."

He pressed the issue. "How can we undertake a--"

She interjected. "The US Military does not have the capacity to undertake any action in a foreign nation without approval from that government. Per the international accords involving powered individuals, you are not military assets and, at worst, you may be individually sanctioned and fined. Yes, undertaking activities in a nation which has not provided you approval will result in a few points lost from your rating, but all groups here are Net Positive, so a slap on the wrist is all you should expect. A minor demerit is well worth the destruction of a criminal enterprise responsible for the death of hundreds and the suffering of tens of thousands, wouldn't you agree?" The fact that she didn't wait for an answer was very telling.

Demon did not seem pleased with the prospect, adding his two-cents in their mental dialogue. "This is quickly turning into quite the shit show."

Bruiser put everything in context, also silently. "We intercept smugglers and expose a smuggling ring hideout in the United States... and then we assault a carel base in Mexico?"

Rook weighed in. Unlike the rest of the group, his statement was said aloud. "A relatively mundane task for Metamorphs, but this is a questionable undertaking."

The General spoke up for the first time since the Secretary of State took control. "And who are YOU exactly? You came in with Merc's Metamorphs, but you're not on the roster."

Merc stood up, taking control of the situation with the narrative they'd practiced. "This is Rook. He is a new recruit to Merc's Metamorphs. Under Article 4, Section 3 of the Metamorph Formation Protocol that any net positive Meta--"

General Davis' response interrupted Merc since it was barked like a military order. "Alright. Acknowledged. Now shut up. I don't need a Meta reciting international guidelines."

Secretary Alvarez took a step closer to the General and rested a carefully manicured hand on his forearm. "Relax, Bill... everyone here is invited. The bird was cleared ahead of time at the gate because of...?" she glanced back at Merc; he realized she was less interested in hearing it than forcing the military professional to.

The Kangacobra had no trouble playing along. "Article 4, Section 3 of the Metamorph Formation Protocol."

She nodded thoughtfully, patting the General's arm. "And, tell me again, Merc... what does it say?"

Merc thought she was laying it on thick, but he had no trouble reciting what Rook had taught him carefully. "Any net positive Metamorph group with at least three members is able to accept no more than 2 probationary members."

The Secretary of State nodded, removing her hand from General Davis' arm. "Merc's Metamorphs is Net Positive... they have three members." She pulled out a PDA. "And it appears they have no other registered probationary members." The woman even went so far as to hold out her electronic device in front of the General's face.

He responded with a gruff "Electronic devices were supposed to be left outside of the briefing room."

Claudia smiled. "Oh. How careless of me." She slid it back into the pocket of her sports coat and looked back to Rook. "You are correct, 'probationary member'. The actions everyone is undertaking on behalf of this new initiative is a trial run. These missions are being undertaken by Powered teams and are therefore NOT official US actions."

The Raven spoke up again. "But, except for Merc's Metamorphs' follow-up actions in Mexico, nothing being done here is even close to a breach of--"

She spoke over him. "Merc and his team will have three days to complete the take-down. Day one is intercepting the smugglers; day two is the base; day three is the headquarters of the cartel. I trust that will not be a problem?"

Merc listened to a lot of low murmurs go through them crowd; several of the other Metamorph teams were doubtful that the timeline was reasonable; a few were voicing their support for his team; Bruiser was decidedly not happy about it and he started a very lengthy, very emphatic mental monologue about how crazy it was to do what she was suggesting, especially since each site was several hours by vehicle away from the next.

Grinning to himself and scratching at an itch beneath his glove, Merc couldn't help but see the opportunity to add to the chaos by jumping ahead in the briefing. "Okay... I get the shock-and-awe approach and everything... but what does all of this back-and-forth have to do with the Dire Legion?"

Although Secretary Alvarez was excellent at maintaining a neutral expression, Merc was carefully watching to see if a crack would appear in her passive facade; he noticed it but, just as fast as it had appeared, it was gone. "Nobody said anything about the Dire Legion, Merc..." she nodded to the General, who struck his fist against the podium with a loud thud, drawing the cross-discussion to an end. "I think everyone needs a few minutes recess so we can get all of the side-talk out of our systems... we'll reconvene in ten minutes."

Pleased with himself, Merc smirked, standing up. General Davis' voice called him out. "Merc's Metamorphs, since you have an extended sortie we'll need more time. You four stay put."

Still scratching at the palm of his glove, Merc had a feeling that he'd hit a nerve; he tried and failed to keep a grin off of his scaled muzzle. Claudia played the perfect hostess, smiling and waving as the rest of the Metamorphs made their way out, a perfect veneer of unshaken ease. As everyone made their way out except for the Secretary of State, the General, and Merc's team the smile disappeared, replaced by a neutral, bland slack to her lips, but her eyes were ablaze. She began to curse in an eerily calm tone using Spanish.

As usual, Demon did not relent when it came to the language that Juan and Frank used so often. "I still don't speak Spanish, Lady."

Alvarez went silent, clearing her throat as she turned to regard Merc. "Why, pray tell did you bring up the Dire Legion, exactly?"

Realizing immediately that he'd hit a nerve, the Kangacobra massaged his itchy palm with his thumb as he spoke in the sweetest possible tone available to his Metamorph muzzle. "Oh... General Glory told us EVERYTHING. Why... is that something we're not supposed to know? Was this supposed to be a 'blind trust' sort of thing? Are you going to deny some connection to the Dire Legion?"

The Secretary of State shot a pointed gaze at the General who sighed, pulled out his cell phone, and turned to go some distance away as he began dialing. Rook stated in their mental discussion "He's calling Legendary Unlimited."

They had no more time to focus on the General since Alvarez continued. "There's no need to deny it, Merc. This is entirely about the Dire Legion, though that is privileged information and there is no reason for the other teams to be briefed on it since it is YOUR team that is leading the charge."

Demon raised an eyebrow, and both ears. "Because we're roughing up some smugglers and kicking in some teeth at a cartel base?"

She turned to regard the Pitbull, her smile seeming a little more easy and casual. "No, Demon... well, not entirely so. There is an 'All Flag' on day 2 of your operation. Legendary Unlimited is going to be attacking one of Dire Legion's bases."

Bruiser was surprised by that. "The State Department learned the location of a Dire Legion base?"

She nodded casually. "Correct. These other attacks are all targeting different ventures funded or funding the Dire Legion. This is a coordinated strike to cripple their operations and take out one of their administrative centers."

Merc clenched and unclenched his gloved paw. "You probably coulda led with that. I'm sure lots of the Metamorphs here today would LOVE to hear about the big picture."

Alvarez shrugged in response. "This sort of thing is a 'need to know' detail and apparently General Glory decided that you needed to know."

The Kangacobra shrugged, wiping at an errant droplet of black that seeped out the wrist hole of his glove. "Eh... he told us it involved the Dire Legion... everything else is fresh news to us, thanks."

Before Merc's flippant remarks could really land, Bruiser stepped in. "You said before that it's one job. Just one job then you leave us alone, right?"

The Secretary of State regarded the Orca. "Yes. One FULL sortie, which means--" she held out her index finger, "the smugglers--", she added her thumb, "the hideout--" she then extended her middle finger to join the others, "and the cartel headquarters. Complete that and your obligation is done."

Sticking a finger under his glove to scratch at his palm, Merc licked his lips with his lengthy, reptilian tongue, gauging the best way to make his statement. In the end he chose the direct route. "We'll do it, but we expect you to honor your deal, Alvarez. We're perfectly happy to leak EVERYTHING if you don't hold up to your end. One and done. That's all there is to it."

She offered an eerily calm smile in response to his potential threat; he didn't like that response. Her words were equally measured. "Complete the three objectives and you're done, gentlemen... it's as simple as that. That was the plan since the beginning, and you can still count on me to keep my end of the bargain. Considering how much you're being paid for this job, I'm surprised that you won't consider future contracts."

Merc knew Demon well enough to know the Dog was working hard to keep a growl out of his voice. "We don't do government contracts. Period."

The General returned at that moment, stowing his cell phone. "Except in this one case, apparently."

Merc was so focused on censoring himself around the Secretary of State that his quip at the General's expense slipped out before he could stop it. "Aren't electronic devices prohibited in the briefing room... Bill?"

General Davis' face turned red and he opened his mouth to object, but the laughter from Secretary Alvarez cut him off. She waved the man away as she stepped closer to the four Metamorphs. "We'll meet again when your mission is done. You'll get paid, and the State Department will conveniently lose your number."

Merc scowled. "And so will the FBI, the CIA... shit, I don't even want to be on the call list with the USDA. You got it?"

She offered a polite smile. "That's fair. You have my word."

He stepped forward, towering Alvarez as he stared down at her. "Just so you know, I don't like being lied to. Your word better be good."

Very few people failed to be intimidated when Merc used 'that tone', and he was frustrated to see that the Secretary of State was one of the rare exceptions. "It is. Now, considering how much of a distraction your team is, General Davis will hand you the rest of the dossier. And I mean this in the nicest way: get the fuck out of my briefing room."

Neither Merc nor any of his team found a reason to object; they were all too happy to make an exit.