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Merc's Metamorphs

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Chapter 7: Santagua

Considering there was a better-than-likely chance that they would miss at least one day of class the following week, Fred decided that he, Chance and Juan would best be served leaving the evening on Friday. Not only would it mean that any potential witnesses would already be off campus or otherwise busy with weekend plans but, since their travel was limited to the two hour window in which Frank could move them about freely as Merc, it really didn't make much sense to leave in the morning.

The three of them headed out of campus with no small amount of noise, commenting loudly that they would be heading to visit Chance's folks for the weekend (an alabai could be a wonderful thing), and so they'd be heading east (rather than heading very VERY far South). There weren't many people present by that point, and those who were really didn't care enough except for it to possibly register at a later point if corraborating stories would be needed. With that out of the way, the three went straight to the park to make the change.

Travel was handled as per the usual method. Merc had a lot of places in mind to which they could jump, but the further away the more difficult it became to teleport accurately-- the better he knew a place the further he could travel safely but he had to balance speed and health, which meant his options were somewhat limited. Demon, as usual, made a stupid suggestion. "We spent enough time in Ecuador... how about there?"

Bruiser shot the Pitbull a sharp glare, but Merc objected verbally, using the answer that the Dog HAD to have known was coming. "Ecuador? Never again."

Juan had a solid fall back plan. "Plaza de Paz in Barranquilla?"

It wasn't a horrible suggestion, and Columbia was a FAR better option than Ecuador, but Merc shot that idea down. "It's Friday night-- that place will be swarming. I don't want to pop in and telefrag someone."

Chance snickered. "Telefrag."

It was an unofficial term, gleaned from gamer speak from way-back-when referring to teleporting into a space already occupied by another player and killing them in the process. In truth, none of the three of them knew if that would be the case but, understandably, they weren't really interested in finding out. The discussion lasted a few more minutes as they got suitably equipped and dressed in their Metamorph gear (along with some human clothes to change into during their trip).

Bruiser threw a dufflebag over his shoulder. "Fine... what about San Diego?"

Among all of border towns in the southern US, the ones in California and Florida were the ones Merc knew best. Considering options, the Kangacobra confirmed the choice. "Sure. There's a place in Chula Vista that should be pretty quiet."

Selecting the town just south of San Diego, and less than five miles from the border seemed like the best option. Once there, it would be a relatively simple matter of some micro jumps and they'd be in Mexico. From there, Merc's Metamorphs had become familiar enough with the wilds of Mexico to usually make great time when heading down to South America so they were confident they could get to Santagua in a short amount of time. Sadly, they were not correct in their assumption.

While the trip to Southern California went as smoothly as a snap of the fingers, the three of them were spotted on the street and it wasn't long before social media was abuzz. In order to throw off the trail and redirect attention, Merc first had to head north to San Diego; they'd done a favor for one of the zoo keepers and so they were able to misdirect everyone into thinking that they were going there for a media stunt-- unfortunately, they'd gained enough attention that they had to do just that, and over an hour was burned.

After that, taking stock of their reduced travel time, Merc decided to throw off the social media mob by heading northwest along the coast toward LA or, at least, that's the impression he gave. In truth, after three or four quick jumps he paused for nearly a minute before jumping east. From there, he started a rapid series of micro jumps southeast until they passed across the border through Mexicali, keeping just south of the border until they could travel south along the green spaces of central Mexico, crossing through several national protected areas like Campo Verde, Tutuaca and the Cascada de Basaseachi National Park.

Despite making good time, the setback at the start of their trip meant that Merc's Metamorphs didn't get as far as they would have liked that night. Although they would have preferred to have gone past Panama City, they hadn't even made it to Guatemala by the time their two hour window was running out and so, after some deliberation, they decided to spend the night just south of Mexico City. All in all it wasn't the worst place to choose seeing as it was busy international hub so a 'guero' like Chance wouldn't attract much attention.

Incidentally, it also gave the three of thema chance to test out their fake IDs which, thankfully, worked like a charm. While out mfor dinner, things went well for the most part, except for Chance, who, as usual, showed just how clueless he could be when Juan and Frank were discussing their lacks of Mexican accents (Chance couldn't tell the difference between Frank's Dominican and Juan's Colombian, admitting that the only accent he could hear any difference from was Puerto Rican).

They made sure to give Chance some grief, but not too much. All in all the dinner was excellent and it let them get used to their new personas-- talking casually and referring to one another by their fake identities took some practice and being surrounded by strangers in Mexico City was as good a time as any to work the kinks out-- Miguel (Frank) led the discourse, using some of the code they'd developed over a few months that would allow them to talk in public without drawing attention to their plans. Pedro (Juan), in the meantime, was quick on the uptake and played along just fine.

Chance also did an acceptable job, only calling one of them by their real name once-- in response, both Frank and Juan took to calling Chance 'Señor Blanco', a wry attention-getting reminder that his alter ego's last name was white and that Chance was also Caucasian. He weathered the good natured jabs well enough and they returned to their hotel in good spirits, ready for the trip to continue the following day. Check out time was 10am, and they found little reason to hang out beyond that, hoping to be done with their travel before it got very hot.

Being set back on their travel schedule as they were, Frank realized that they wouldn't likely get to Santagua that day, which meant that there would be more wasted time in transit. If they had to travel on day three then they would use up their ability to assume their Metamorph form and, even if they didn't use the full two hours in transit, Merc wouldn't be able to select new powers so he'd be all but useless for whatever plans they decided to enact-- at that moment Frank realized that they hadn't fully considered how they were going to handle the military dictatorship in Santagua.

Fortunately, Juan had a solution. "Okay... how about we get as close as we can today... that way, tomorrow, we can get to Santagua the traditional way, spend some time scoping it out, and we can make our plans once we know what we're up against?"

Nobody really had any better ideas and so, once the three could find a secluded spot, Frank took his Metamorph form along with his boyfriends, and day two of their travel began in earnest. They made much better time at the start of their journey that day and, despite having started so far behind, they did make much better time. Not quite on schedule, they did, nevertheless, manage to get close enough to Santagua that they'd be able to handle the rest of the way through more traditional means.

Once they arrived at the border, however, another problem arose. Standing on the beach, looking out into the water, Frank demanded. "Since when is Santagua an island?!?"

* * * * * *

The three got a local hotel as they took stock or their situation. Frank was exhausted, having spent two days utilizing his travel powers to the max and he really wanted to just take a few hours to relax. Chance, being the most eye-catching of their group elected to stay and care for him while Juan spent some time gathering some information. He returned a short while later with some food, drinks and a lot of details about Santagua.

The most prominent rumors among the locals was that the current dictator ruling Santagua had more than an army; he had a Metamorph. According to those in the know, the Metamorph had elemental powers: water and earth. Over the course of a year, the Metamorph was put to use breaking Santagua away from the mainland and pushing it out to sea. Combining water and earth powers meant that the entire country was able to be detached from South America and pushed further out along the continental shelf, separating it by almost twelve miles of water.

Frank was reclining on his bed, Chance rubbing his feet while Juan told the story. Once the team's scout fell silent, Frank had a few questions. "Okay... so what do we know about the Metamorph other than powers? Any background details? Origin story? Call sign?"

Out of all of the answers, Juan only had the last one. "He's called Terremoto."

Chance was paying attention, but his Spanish wasn't that great. "Okay... and what's that mean?"

The others responded in unison. "Earthquake."

The white guy rolled his eyes. "Well... I guess that's accurate, at least. Okay... so what're we gonna do about 'Earthquake'?"

Juan was quick with an answer. "Considering we don't have a lot of time and don't know a lotta bout Terremoto, I figure avoiding him will probably be our best bet."

Frank nodded. "Yeah-- I agree, but we'll need to figure out where he is and where he hangs out. If we're gonna avoid him we need to know where to stick clear of."

Chance finished his foot rub and plopped down on the floor with a sour expression. "Whadda you bet Rook knew about the Metamorph and didn't bother telling us?"

Juan shrugged. "Don't worry about it, babe... whether or not we get all the details we have a job to do and at least we learned about Terremoto before encountering him."

Frank pulled out his cell and tried to do a few searches on Metamorphs from Santagua but came up with nothing; not only was the small South American country secretive, but they had a tendency to avoid global affairs meaning it made plenty of sense that there wasn't much useful information out there. Just when he was about to give up, however, Frank stumbled across something. "Bingo. I think I know what we're looking for: according to a press release from a few weeks ago, Santagua has a Turtle Metamorph."

Juan nodded thoughtfully. "Okay... that's good."

Chance glanced quizically toward Juan. "Why's that? Slow? Cold blooded? clumsy?"

Smirking, the vet student laid it on thick. "It's good because we need your head in the game, and you probably won't want to try and fuck a turtle."

Frank idly wondered if throwing pillows was a Metamorph power Chance could use in human form-- he was damn good at it.

* * * * *

The following day Merc made the call to add another day to their trip; they had to get to Santagua and one of the best ways to do that was with the right powers. Combining light bending and water walking meant that they were able to literally run across the water to the island nation and, choosing to do so near mid-day meant that the three of them would just look like another shimmering refraction of sunlight so long as they kept moving and kept track of the ocean current; in order to get it right Merc made tidal sense his last power, further clinching the need to take another day before making their move.

The three of them touched down on an abandoned beach, allowing them to regroup and take on their human forms. As they were getting redressed and planning their next move, Frank went over some important talking points. "We're two days behind now. Gotta get this done tomorrow so we don't miss more than a day of class."

Juan interjected at that point after slipping on his shirt. "Actually, if we don't pick up the pace on the way back we'll end up missing two days of class."

Frank scowled. "Not helping... but, thanks. All the more reason we gotta get this done quick... nothing like trying to overthrow a nation on fast forward."

Despite the constant 'third world' classification given to Santagua by the US news stations, the group found the roads to be sufficient for walking and the road signs clear enough for navigation. The few people they saw so far out from the population centers gave them odd glances but were friendly when hailed in Spanish. Frank found their accents a little strange on the ears but Juan seemed perfectly content, going so far as to point out that they sounded almost Chilean.

The people, for the most part, were incredibly helpful, providing guidance toward the closest town that had a hotel available. While Frank had no doubts that they stood out as obviously non-native, everyone they ran into was welcoming and gracious; a fellow working at a fruit stand with two of his sons even provided the travelers with a mixed fruit drink at no cost. When Chance tried to figure out how to pay the man (the group didn't have any local currency) the man declined, stating "Los invitados son como familia."-- "Guests are like family.".

It was a strange thing to hear until the three made it into a slightly more urban area two miles up the road. They learned at that point that the dictatorship had gone to great lengths to make it hard for outsiders to visit the country and, for a nation that once thrived on tourism, much of the economy was having trouble coping. The term 'invitados' had been used for decades by the Sataguans to refer to tourists and it had apparently become a large part of their cultural identiy to be gracious hosts when encountering visitors.

When the three entered into the first hotel they could identify Juan shot Chance a dirty look after the white boy commented that the electricity wasn't flickering and someone nearby was on a cell phone. When they approached the check-in counter and Chance was further amazed that the hotel had computers it earned him a slap on the shoulder and correction in a hushed tone "They're not backwater, kulo."

Setting aside the continued bickering of his boyfriends, Frank focused instead at the man behind the reception desk, addressing him in Spanish. "I would like to rent a room for three, please."

The concierge nodded respectfully. "Of course, Sir. Federal law requires identification for all visitors, please."

Chance, who knew very little Spanish did know enough to realize he had to present ID and he was one of the first to fish his out. Once Frank had all three he provided them to the man who looked them over, eyes lighting up as if in recognition. His follow up statement further confused the matter. "Ah. Mr de Silva..."

The reference to his alias surprised Frank. "Yes, that's me. A room, please."

The concierge held up a hand. "I apologize. what I meant to say was that your office already called in ahead and reserved your room. You also have a message."

Even as the man provided them a sign-in book he also offered a sealed envelope addressed to Señor Miguel de Silva. After all of them had signed in and received their IDs back the man provided them a set of key cards for their room (Juan again shooting Chance a dirty look when a comment about electronic access slipped out). From there, the three young man retreated to an elevator, heading up to the fourth floor where their room awaited.

Once they were alone, Chance chose the moment to defend his most recent technology-based comment. "The whole keycard access thing wasn't a third-world thing... I was really surprised that they're using a Vineyard RFID system... they're not just unreliable, but their master keys are easy to spoof."

Chance continued to wax-technological, talking about all the drawbacks to using such a system. Frank was only half-listening, feeling the weight of the unknown letter in his hand as the three made their way down the hallway toward their room. It was at the very end which, despite the long way to their accommodations at least suggested that they would have a decent view since they were at the corner of the hotel. He wasn't wrong.

Juan let out a whistle as he entered their suite "Que cuarto hermoso."

Frank nodded. "It IS a nice room... but WE didn't reserve it."

Chance walked past them, tapping the toe of his shoe on the fine marble tile of the entryway floor. "No duh-- YOU did, Mr. de Silva."

Rolling his eyes, Frank opened the envelope the man at the front desk had given him. It didn't take long to fill in the blanks. "Looks like The Rook set this all up for us... not sure how they knew exactly which hotel we'd end up at though..."

Juan peeked over his shoulder. "It's a message?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah... welcoming us to Santagua, and suggesting we review the information included... hmm... what have we here?"

Chance wandered back over as the three fo them sat down to review the contents of the envelope. The Rook announced that their room was reserved for the entire weekend as well as Monday (they had the rest of Sunday and one more whole day, having wasted the first one and a half) and that room service was also handled; the credit cards they'd received could be used for car rentals or other mission-specific expenses; some paperwork in the envelope would help them with their task. Finally, the letter concluded with a very casual "Good luck." followed by a stylized stamped black tower.

Frank began sifting through the additional papers provided, astounded at the treasure trove of information they'd received. "Damn-- there's a lot of specifics here-- our job's already been half-done for us. There's full details on El General's daily schedules. Just like a military man, I guess: he sticks to a really rigid schedule. It's nice getting some high quality intelligence briefs for a change."

Chance plopped down on the sofa. "Yeah? It'd be a lot nicer if we didn't have our feet dangling over a blackmail fire."

Ignoring Chance's flippant statement, Juan motioned back to the original letter where it lay beside Frank. "Hmm... stamp. That answers that: a rook chess piece."

Chance smirked, not even missing a beat. "Yep... NOT a bird."

Juan, still sifting through the documents scoffed at Chance. "Focus now-- jokes later. We have a treasure trove of information: troop movements, identities and stations of several ranking commanders..."

Frank held up another paper. "And info on Terremoto."

Chance scowled. "If The Rook knew about Terremoto it mighta been nice to give us a heads up BEFORE now, right?"

Juan shrugged, leaning over to look at what Frank had in his hands. "Maybe... but we have it now. Let's see what there is to discover; maybe it might help us in our plans."

Frank nodded. "Yeah... not like we're on limited time for a project which should DEFINITELY take more than a day to complete. Let's start with Terremoto since he's going to be the most important variable in figuring this out."

The three sat down and went over the information provided to them on Terremoto. The Metamorph, according to the briefing, was a Santaguan native who spontaneously manifested Metamorph powers around the time of the military coup. His identity was known, and Chance called it out. "A librarian? Really?"

Juan was much less incredulous. "Metamorphs can come from any walk of life... you know the same as the rest of us: who we are as humans doesn't always translate into who we become as Metamorphs, and this guy, Martin Araya happens to--"

Chance cut in "--become El General's special weapon when he changes?"

Frank was much more pragmatic about it. "We can't pass judgment-- if we know who is is, chances are that the government of Santagua does too. We know the General runs a military dictatorship so there's a good chance that Terremoto isn't doing all this because he WANTS to, but because he HAS to."

Juan, who had continued flipping through the dossier nodded. "This says that Martin has a family-- a wife and two girls. If he isn't working willingly then I'm sure the government would have plenty of leverage when it comes to getting him to do what they want whenever they want. You know... if he IS unwilling then we can use that to our advantage."

Chance snapped his fingers. "If we help the librarian we take away a military asset. If El General is relying on a heavy hitter like their Metamorph Turtle then his whole plan could end up falling apart without him... right?"

Frank nodded hesitantly. "Sure... assuming Terremoto IS doing their work against his will. Still, if we CAN turn him then that would be a big blow to the regime. What does the briefing say about him? Any idea how we'll have the best chance to get in contact?"

Juan shook his head. "It looks like the government keeps track of him almost every hour of the day. He is escorted from his home every morning at eight and he is returned home every night at six. Everywhere he goes and every place he visits he's escorted by soldiers."

Frowning, Frank took a seat next to Juan. "Doesn't make much sense from a work schedule point of view since Metamorphs can only take form for two hours... why would they bother keeping him busy for ten hours?"

Juan's answer was delivered in a dour tone. "If they keep him busy then he won't have time to think about or do anything else. He may not be a Metamorph for ten hours but there's a lot they can have him do for the eight hours he's human."

Chance peered over the vet student's shoulder. "So he's basically under their thumb. What about his family? If we can get to them--"

Juan piped in, holding up a paper. "Wife has a 'bodyguard' assigned and the kids attend state sponsored school."

The computer tech student straightened up. "Public schools? Cool!"

It was Juan's turn to throw a pillow for once. "Santuagua is NOT a third world country!"

* * * * *

The next few hours were spent considering ways to turn Terremoto. Presuming he was an unwilling accomplice in the dictatorship they had to find a way to separate him from his handlers and guarantee the safety of his family. In the end, that discussion became more a matter of the right powers for Merc to use to accentuate what Bruiser and Demon would have that their disposal. The entirety of the plan hedged on the presumption that Terremoto was a prisoner, not a willing participant. Then again, Chance had mentioned, if the librarian's family was part of the plan then Merc's Metamorphs could use them as leverage.

Frank honestly didn't like the idea of applying that kind of pressure on someone but he had to admit that it would go a long way in keeping control of the situation and ensure that they wouldn't have to kill anyone. Still, he hoped that their first assumption was correct and that Terremoto would willingly abandon the dictatorship once his family was somewhere safe. That brought up the next challenge

The brainstorming continued as they considered how to save the family and get them out of Santagua. The obvious suggestion came from Chase, who suggested offering Martin and his family getting asylum in the states. "Lots of folks come to the US as refugees... we could help them get there, right?"

Juan let out a negative-sounding 'hmm' and then provided his objection. "Considering how much our government didn't like the last one here, there's a good chance that the CIA actively WANTS the military to be in charge-- probably even helped in the overthrow. Getting Martin and his family to the USA would be like handing him over on a silver platter to the ones who most likely started all this in the first place."

Frank shrugged. "We could always smuggle them in."

Chance rolled his eyes. "Dude-- we can take them ANYWHERE... Columbia, Chile--- freaking Arab Emeritz for that matter. Hell, we could take em to Ecuad--"

Frank objected immediately "NOT Ecuador."

The white guy sighed. "What I mean is that we're missing the forest for the trees, guys. Let's tackle things one at a time. First we take control of Martin's family-- if he's a captive of the regime then we're liberating them and if he's a stooge then we use them as leverage. Once we figure THAT part out we'll know whether he'll come along willingly or if we gotta convince him. I don't think we should put the cart before the horse here; let's focus on steps one and two before we get into part four, yeah?"

Frank had to admit that Chance often helped keep everyone on track; despite how 'out in left field' he could be, Chance was really good at keeping things in perspective. "Sure, love... good point. Let's finish getting settled in for the night and we'll figure things out in the morning once we have a chance to get the FULL details."