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Merc's Metamorphs

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Chapter 8: Martin

Despite their room having two queen sized beds and a pull-out bed the three of them spent the night together on one. Frank found it incredibly convenient that, one of his boyfriends was large and one was slight; he himself was average, meaning that all three of them sharing a single queen mattress meant that they were crammed in close together, but he enjoyed the physical intimacy. According to Chance it was because Frank was no stranger to tight fits; the crassness of the statement always made him laugh.

The hotel they'd checked into turned out to be a relatively high quality one and the three enjoyed a simple but filling breakfast; Juan enjoyed coffee and some jam on toast while Frank drew from a selection of several fruit juices and some oatmeal. Chance threw temperance to the wind and choked down at least three pastries and a nearly equal number of cups of coffee. They managed to share a cryptic conversation regarding their plans for the day, starting with an innocuous statement brought up by Juan. "So... what's the plan? Do we want to get changed now or later?"

Without any context anyone listening in would think nothing of it while, in fact, Juan was all but asking when they were going to take their Metamorph forms. Frank, in turn, spoke in code. "It's awhile til the party... I'd like to go out and do some sightseeing first. We should probably see if we can find out what's planned for entertainment."

There were times when the three of them were out on a job when they realized they needed more information. Although The Rook provided them a complete dossier, Frank didn't know exactly HOW complete, or even if the intel could be trusted. Spending time in Human form, moving around unnoticed and unseen meant that they could focus on getting the job done when they finally did take their Metamorph shapes, which was an important step in being prepared, especially since they were limited on the time they could spend as their super alter egos.

Chance, who was finishing off his final cup of coffee, set his cup down and licked his lips with a pleased smack. "I hope there's strippers."

Despite his love of carnal pursuits, Chance's comment was also in-character when it came to code; strippers was a suggestion that they have a plan before running in powers blazing, and it was usually accompanied with creating a specific exit plan. While anyone not in-the-know when it came to their code would be unable to figure out how those two things related, the entire statement started as a humorous anecdote, comparing the three having an opportunity to take off their clothes and stow them to a strip show and, thus the statement "I hope there's strippers" was born.

Frank was of the same mind. "There'll definitely be strippers."

With all of them in rought agreement, they gathered up their collection of 'tourist-y' props and headed out onto the streets. The first hour was spent gaining a sense of direction in the winding roads of Santagua. All around them the residents of the nation were friendly and welcoming, going out of their way to make the three college students feel appreciated. Frank was surprised when they passed by a street vendor and they got free Chapalele with a warm greeting When he tried to pay for them, the man waved the money away with a smile, declaring "Los invitados son como familia."

The potato-based roll was new to Frank, but Juan, who had spent more time in South America than either of the other team was quite familiar with them. As they walked, he explained that Santagua nationalized the dish and turned it into a street food-- they were far more common in Chile and regularly served in dumpling form, often with seafood. Chance, as usual, wasn't picky. "Pretty good just like this, thanks."

By the time mid-day rolled around the group had managed to do fairly comprehensive trip around the region of the city near the hotel and, as they expanded their meandering journey, even came across the local library-- the one where Martin Araya worked. Seizing the opportunity as a chance to learn more, Frank paused the team for lunch, selecting a small street corner cafeteria. Chance had already eaten that morning, he was all too happy to get a big lunch as well; Frank and Juan ate a little more sparingly.

With the three of them seated in a triangular formation around their circular table they had a decent view of the different city streets converging on their corner and, as they ate and chatted casually they each kept an eye out. It was Chance who caught sight of their target. Lowering his voice, the white boy stated "Hey... looks like he has two guys with him. That's not too bad."

They were not novices, thus neither Frank nor Juan turned to look. Frank, instead, asked some clarifying questions. "Obvious, or plain clothes?"

Chance knew exactly what he meant. "They're both in uniforms. Rifles too."

Juan was about to ask a follow up question but their server came out with the bill for the meal, along with a free churro for each of them, offering them the dessert with a smile. "Pueden pagar cuando quieras. Por favor, disfrute de sus postres. Los invitados son como familia."

Chance shot Juan a look. Frank recognized the pointed glance, and so he translated. "She said we can pay whenever we want, and she hopes we enjoy the churros."

Grunting, Chance grabbed one of the desserts. "And that guests are like family, right?"

Juan smirked. "Claro que si."

Chance had long since learned what that meant and he ignored the obvious chiding. Glancing back toward the library, he continued his report. "Looks like they're headed inside... if it's just the three of them we--"

Frank interjected. "No way to tell how many are inside... it's not worth the risk."

Juan took a bite of his churro, covering his mouth as he chewed and spoke quietly at the same time. "We're close to the water... I can sense for minds. Demon can phase through the wall-- in and out before they knew what happened if there aren't any others there."

Grabbing his own churro, Frank looked at it, also speaking in a quiet tone as if waxing philosophical for the benefit of anyone watching. "And if there are, we wasted today entirely... not worth the risk. We have two hours and two hours only... we gotta make that time count."

The three of them kept a subtle eye on the building for nearly an hour before Martin and his two guards emerged. Once they did, however, they moved up the street at a fairly quick pace. Not bothering to figure out if the library had been a wasted opportunity or a near catastrophe, Frank focused on the road ahead rather than behind. The three college students were careful as to how they followed the librarian and his handlers, maintaining distance, but not too much that they'd lose him; it helped that all of his destinations seemed to be downtown so the crowds and foot traffic made him easy to shadow without drawing attention.

As the early afternoon changed to mid afternoon, Juan was able to confirm the information received by The Rook. "So far the schedule we got is incredibly accurate... I guess El General is a man of habit, and he keeps his underlings closely controlled. Makes me wonder if he does this to all of his 'military assets' or just his Metamorph."

Frank was not surprised by the vitriol with which Juan referred to Martin being a military asset; the veterinary student had always been opposed to war and the thought of an innocent man being blackmailed into serving a power hungry dictator was obviously not appealing to him. Trying to help pull his boyfriend's focus out of such a dark space, Frank spoke up. "We'll get him free... don't worry."

The three of them continued following their target around town until the sky started drifting closer to the horizon; it wasn't until early evening that the soldiers flanking Martin took him toward the outskirts. Chance, the only one of them who had bothered snapping a pic on his cell of the map included in The Rook's briefing spoke up. "Only thing out this way is the north island... and El General's manor."

Frank had learned during his time as a Metamorph that there was a balance between risks. Heading out of town after Martin meant that they wouldn't have the benefit of going unnoticed if the soldiers were astute, so following after them created an obvious risk of discovery. On the flip side, presuming that Martin's escort were bringing him to El General's palace created a risk of being wrong; they didn't have a lot of time in reserve to rely on inaccurate information. In the end, he split the difference. "Chance... where's a good place we can go to that'll give us eyes on Martin?"

Maneuvering his pic of the island on his phone's touch screen, Chance had an answer quickly. "There's an overlook northeast of town... won't help us see everywhere, but there aren't a lot of places on the north side of the island. Not as good as trailing em-- still, probably better than nothing."

Juan was quick to agree. "Overlooks are pretty good spots for tourists... plausible deniability of we're spotted."

The decision had to be made quickly and so Frank elected to make it happen. "Alright... sight-seeing time then. Break out your cell phones and let's head to the overlook so we can tourist-the-hell outta the place."

Juan smirked. "I don't think 'tourist' works as a verb."

Frank was committed to the plan. "Sure it does... it just did."

* * * * *

The overlook turned out to be a rather magnificent view of the bay far down below. Looming at least eighty feet above the surf, the overlook was also fortunately a good thirty feet above the rest of the surrounding areas of the island, providing a decent spot to watch what direction Martin was taken by the shoulders. It helped that Chance had a high quality portrait camera, allowing him to use it to peer over his shoulder at their target while facing out to sea.

Although the northern side of the island of Santagua rose up sharply out of the water, the land itself was fairly flat, consisting of soft rolling hills with a slow, gradual increase in altitude on its northernmost point-- the estate for El General. As the three of them waited patiently to see if they could track where the soldiers were taking Martin the lack of obstacles made it easy to see the paths they took. It was just starting to get dark when Chance was able to confirm their destination. "Looks like they're taking a path that winds down around the northern point... I think they're going to the beach."

Frank peered over Chance's shoulder. "Beach, huh? I thought the whole northern side of the island is just cliffs..."

Chance zoomed in on his phone, showing it to Frank. "Mostly, yeah... anything at sea level would be rocks, sand bars and shallows... not exactly vacationing material."

Juan stowed his own cell. "Speaking of 'vacations', people wouldn't buy tourists taking pictures after nightfall, so... I guess we're done here?"

Frank let out a sigh. "Yeah... I guess so. I still want to find out what they're up to bringing him d--"

The comment was interrupted when the ground gave a faint shake, and a rumble from the north provided a possible solution. Chance was the first to assess the situation. "Sounds like they have him in Metamorph form doing some 'construction'."

Juan, in his usual way, addressed the matter at hand and managed to throw another unrelated thought into the mix at the same time. "Makes sense that they'd be having him reinforce the natural defenses around El General's manor... but making huge changes to the reef would be devistating to the marine ecology out there..."

Frank knew that his boyfriend wasn't wrong but a little ecological damage was the least of their worries when it came to the rogue nation run by a militant dictator. The one thing he knew for certain was that Terremoto was active and, if that was the case, El General's men would be focused on him more than elsewhere. Glancing to his team, Frank stated directly "Alright.. NOW it's time to act."

Not having to repeat himself twice, Frank was pleased that both his boyfriends were following after him, moving quickly toward town. It didn't need to be said, but Juan did so anyway. "We're going to save his family first."

The three college students went back toward town but Frank was mindful to stop outside the densest area of population. His companions knew him well enough to realize that, as he looked around for suitable cover from onlookers that it was time for them to change forms. Juan found a suitable area first. "Hey-- there's a path over here that leads down to a cliff face. Looks like there's more than enough room."

The three followed the meandering path as it curved down toward the ocean, but only for some 10 or 20 feet before turning back in on itself. A blind corner led to a cleft in the rock face with just enough room for the three of them to squeeze in behind a stone shelf, protecting them from viewers above or any errant ships that might sail by with binoculars focused on land. Frank realized, however, that it would be a tight squeeze once the three of them took their Metamorph forms. "Alright... let's get naked and step back out-- I may not mind being up close and personal with you two when we're in bed, but I'm not about to ruin our mission by getting stuck between some rocks.

Juan, who had brought a backpack with him for the hike quickly doffed it and began dressing down, stuffing his clothes into it as they went. "Once we're changed I'll dive down into the water and follow you along the coast-- Martin's house isn't too far from the beach so I can play support from the sea."

It was a sound idea and Frank, already dressed down to his underwear had no reason to object. Stepping out of his boxers, he shoved all of his clothes to Juan, who pushed them down into his back pack as well. Chance likewise handed him a third set of clothes, adding "When I'm Demon, hand me that... no sense having you jumping into the ocean and getting everything inside soaked."

With their plan in place, Frank pulled off his watch and threaded it around the wrist of his glove, setting the timer for three hours before willing the change. He stepped out onto the cliff, closing his eyes; although it was late evening they were facing the dark eastern sky and his Kangacobra eyes always made his brain do back-flips whenever he was looking at stars while going through the change. Chance knew as much too and Frank felt the firm grip of his boyfriend take hold of him. "Careful, man... not a lot of room up here to stumble."

Smiling, Frank turned toward where he knew Chance was and leaned forward so he could kiss his lover, smiling as he felt their lips meet. There was something Frank found euphoric in the sensations of going through the change, but there was a heightened sensation that came with the breaking and reforming of bones in his face when his lips were pressed against Chance's and he could feel those changes too. Demon, Merc knew, had the same fetish and that was reaffirmed when the bulky Putbull's paws began feeling him up. They changed together, and it was wonderful... unfortunately, they were also on the clock.

Bruiser's broad, smooth-skinned hands rubbed Merc's shoulders as the change in all of them concluded, the Orca's face right behind him, chuckling smoothly. "We can pick this up later, hon... right now we have a job to do."

Winking at Demon, who was standing there with a very large tent in his spandex shorts, Merc had to agree. "We'll pick this up again later."

Demon snorted, then nodded to Bruiser. "Get going... I'll take Merc straight there."

With nothing more than a nod in return the Orca leapt from the stone shelf on which they stood, launching himself far out into the open air as he spread his arms, swan diving down into the water some 60 feet below them. Merc looked back toward the meandering path back up to the top of the cliff, then to Demon, who was looking in the more general direction of town. It only took a second for the Kangacobra to realize the Dog's plan. "Phasing, are we?"

The Pitbull offered a toothy grin. "Save us a lot of time. I'll just solidify a stairway up through the rock. Bruiser's getting there pretty quick so there's no sense in us lagging behind, right, Boss?"

Although Chance usually had to be the guy in charge, there was something about him when he was Demon-- moments when he deferred and acknowledged Merc as the leader; the Kangacobra really liked those moments. "Just a sec."

Demon who had already started stepping through the stone turned back in time for Merc to put his scaled talons around the Dog's muzzle and plant a solid kiss right on the end, even going so far as to slide his long, serpentine tongue into it, squeeze Demon's broad, canine one, and then withdraw. Smirking at his his action left his boyfriend discombobulated in the cute way only a dog was capable of, Merc winked. "Okay... ready."

Demon lashed out and grabbed the Kangacobra by his ungloved wrist. "You're gonna pay for that later, Merc."

The group's leader's grin widened. "I can't wait."

* * * * * *

The trip to Martin's family's house went quickly enough, partly because they were able to make excellent time phasing through the earth, but also because they were on the right side of town. It helped that the home in question was a short distance from the road and they were able to stick to the shadows away from the busier streets. Ultimately, in order t avoid the town's lights, they crept along the shoreline where the sand was disturbed by irregularly placed large rocks-- likely debris from the side effects of a Metamorph pushing the nation out into the ocean.

Demon remained just ahead of Merc, the Kangacobra staying a handful of feet back since the Dog had better senses. Eventually the two of them came to a stop, just beyond the aura of light shimmering out of their destination's open windows. Glancing back at him, Demon asked "Okay... so what's the plan? What's your power load-out?"

Merc had always thought of his greatest power being that of versatility, and, considering the many variables of the job he was very reluctant to give that up. Whispering back, he said to his boyfriend "I haven 't chosen any yet... gonna play it by ear."

Before Demon could respond, the two of them received a mental connection from Bruiser. "There are three guards inside keeping an eye on Martin's wife and daughter. They're distracted playing and cards... one of them is cheating."

With Bruiser facilitating their mental communication, Merc decided on a plan and prepared to set it in motion. He quickly confirmed the locations of the guards and Martin's family members, creeping closer to the building with Demon in tow. Using their mental connection, the Kangacobra laid out the plan. "One on the right and in the middle are yours, Demon. I'll get the one on the left and keep the lady and kiddo calm."

The Pitbull smirked, letting his laugh be a mental one rather than aloud. "Sure... a huge half kangaroo, half cobra is exactly the kind of thing to keep bystanders calm... seen it work ALL the time."

Despite Demon's very reasonable objections, Merc was confident in his abilities. Willing his first power to manifest, he crooned softly to his boyfriend, letting his silver tongue power of persuasiveness activate. "Trust me."

He watched the Dog's pupils contract faintly then expand as if he were on opioids. A second later the effect wore off, but there needed to be no further convincing; Demon realized exactly what it was. "Oh... well okay then."

Bruiser didn't get the dose of the sound-based power, his thoughts tinged with confusion as he asked "What's going on now?"

Demon was straight-forward in his mental reply. "Merc is using some kind of mind-control thingy where he talks to people and they do what he says."

While the explanation was an over-simplification, Merc didn't feel the need to go into detail. "I'll be able to keep Terremoto's family calm and if they ARE prisoners they'll trust us enough to let us help."

Bruiser's telepathic 'tone' was dour. "So long as it's not mind control. You KNOW how I feel about mind control, Frank."

The fact that Bruiser not only didn't bother pointing out his feelings plus the fact that he used Merc's human name drove home his view on the topic; they'd discussed it often enough anyway that it wasn't really worth repeating. The Kangacobra nodded toward the water, not that the Orca would be able to see him. "I know, love... and I'm not going to mess with free will... this is just saving us time keeping everyone calm after we break in and bust some heads."

Once Merc knew that his two teammates were ready he looked to Demon. They linked paws and approached the side of the building away from the doors and windows but close to where the card game was being played. The Kangacobra and Pitbull moved a few feet to the right until Bruiser could confirm they were lined-up for the upcoming surprise attack. The Orca confirmed with certainty "Yours is right in front of you, maybe four feet, Merc. Demon? The one on your left is lined up with your left shoulder maybe two feet in front of you-- the one to your right is about a foot and a half past your right shoulder and maybe three feet beyond the first."

Merc was careful to bide his time. "Let us know when they're shuffling for the next hand. We'll go then."

The wait wasn't long. "Now."

Nodding to Demon, Merc got a nod back in turn and he felt the faintest tingle as he was able to pass through the cottage wall as if it weren't there. For a split second the Metamorph's vision was blocked by wood and drywall and wires and insulation and then, just as quickly, he'd emerged into the room beyond. As anticipated, they caught the soldiers by complete surprise. The one facing them was the one furthest to the right: Merc's target. He had just enough time to look up from the cards before a large, black-scaled talon reached out and clamped around his neck.

By that time Merc had let go of Demon, letting the Pitbull tend to his own two guardsmen but, after carefully throttling his own opponent and tossing the unconscious body onto a nearby sofa, the Kangacobra turned to look for Martin's family. He wasn't surprised to see the mother and her child backed into a corner in alarm, but he was surprised to see that the mother had snatched a pistol off the card table and was holding it out with a warding motion in front of herself. Merc had seen enough people with guns in the months since becoming a Metamorph to see that she was no expert at handling a firearm, but that, accompanied with her fear only made her more dangerous.

He took a step back, holding up both his talons, palm facing her as he spoke softy, carefully doing so in English. "We don't mean you any harm."

Bruiser's mind entered his own. "It'd probably help if you spoke to her in Spanish... Jesus, you can be as bad as Chance sometimes."

Still focusing on Martin's family, Merc saw that her defensive posture eased, just a little. He continued speaking to her in English. "We're here to help you... Hablar English?"

Merc purposefully mangled the Spanish he spoke to the woman, mindfully adding to Bruiser in their mental connection "She doesn't know I speak Spanish, which means she'll think I'm just a stupid gringo... that should help keep her calm."

Bruiser didn't seem to agree. "That, or an imperialist yankee... this isn't the Carribean or Mexico... plus, she--"

Demon, who had just finished 'tying' his two soldiers together using a length lead pipe piped into the mental discussion "Chill, guys. We're Merc's Metamorphs-- it might help being able to speak Spanish if they don't speak English, but do we really wanna drop any hints as to who we are? People know we're from the US and throwing around different languages we know that won't do us any favors."

Despite being the one who usually started arguments, Demon could quite effectively end them too; Merc knew that the Dog made a good point and apparently Bruiser did too. The Orca changed his mental tone and the topic. "Let's see if she understands us and is willing to let us help... these guys are supposed to check in sometime in the next ten minutes."

Before the mom could say anything else, the little girl spoke up rapidly, talking to her in Spanish. "Mama-- these are Metamorphs like daddy! I know them! That one is called Merc! They're on the news sometimes!"

Keeping her daughter behind her, the woman slowly lowered the gun, speaking slowly, enunciating the words in English with a thick accent. "What do you want here?"

Knowing she spoke at least some English, Merc was more confident that he could get through to her. Using his calming power, he spoke plainly and slowly. "We understand that you may not be happy here, and your husband, Martin is being forced to work for El General. If that's the case, we're here to help you."

He saw the reaction she had to his power; true to his promise to Bruiser, he wasn't about to mind control anyone, and it simply empowered him to gain her trust without a lengthy discussion. Immediately calmed by his presence, the woman dropped the gun and ran right over to Merc, throwing her arms around his sides. Crying into his chest, she began expressing her thanks, first in Spanish then in English. "Gracias. Gracis. Gracias, Merc... mi esposo es-- I... thank you. My husband... El General takes him from us every day..."

The woman was probably several years older than he was yet, in that moment, in his Metamorph form, she easily could have been a little girl. Merc liked to think that he was usually analytical and detached enough to avoid letting things 'get to him', but he felt a pang deep within his chest; she needed his help, and he had stepped outside of his comfort zone. He was going to make a difference. "Don't worry, ma'am. We're here now. You're safe."