FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Merc's Metamorphs

copyright 2024 comidacomida

Chapter 24: Rook Lift

Frank often had trouble sleeping the night before a large job and, even if it resulted in him staying up late he was usually up early the following morning, and that day was no exception. Opening his eyes, the young man let out an exasperated sigh, mumbling to himself. "Great... four hours of sleep? Ugh... could be worse."

His words caused both Juan and Chance to shift in their sleep; even as he fussed over his lack of sleep he still couldn't help but smile, having a boyfriend on either side of him. Frank let out a long sigh, forcing the negative thoughts out of his head as he forced himself to focus on the moment, enjoying the simple act of being present with Juan and Chance, hearing the sound of their breathing, feeling the warmth of their bodies, and reveling in the quiet simplicity of the early morning.

Frank honestly missed waking up next to them; it had been awhile with all of the craziness going on in their lives and he was earnestly thankful for those moments-- enough for him to forgive his overactive brain for awakening him so early. Things had moved quickly with Christopher and Frank was thankful for that but, at the same time, there was something wonderful about the familiarity and nostolga of laying in bed with Juan and Chance. It was a king-sized bed, large enough for three; Christopher elected to sleep on the sofa in the living room.

Resolving to check on Christopher in due time, Frank simply sank into the mattress, enjoying the early morning hours while he could. He snuggled with both of his boyfriends, each still deeply asleep. He managed to take a glance at the alarm clock by the bed, which seemed like an oddity to him-- a relic of a bygone era. Frank always used the alarm set on his cell... as did most sane people he could think of. Were 'courtesy alarm clocks' something hotels had just for Boomers, or were there more people out there who didn't make the most out of their cell phones? He didn't know but that didn't stop him from rolling his eyes at the thoughts that ran through his up-too-early brain.

Frank didn't remain the only one of the three up for long; Chance eventually grunted and rubbed his boxer-covered erection against Frank's leg. "Nggh... fuck... it's too early to get up but I bet there's nowhere near enough time to 'solve my problem'..."

Smirking, Frank turned his head and kissed Chance on the forehead. "Not unless you're wanting a quickie... and anything worth doing--"

Juan finished the thought. "Is worth doing right." He craned his neck and kissed Chance, then rotated his head so he could kiss Frank as well. "Morning, Amor."

Frank gave Juan a peck back as well. "Morning."

A mischievous grin split Juan's lips and Chance's body went rigid; since Juan's hand and Chance's erection were against Frank's thigh, he could tell exactly what was going on. Chance sounded almost Demon-like as he let out a playful growl. "Don't start something you're not gonna finish, Juan."

Juan gave Chance another kiss. "There'll be plenty of time to take care of that once we're done with our job."

Grumbling, Chance tossed the blankets back and slipped out of bed. "Fine... I'm gonna go take a shower real quick and handle things myself... just to take the edge off."

Frank grinned. "Just so long as you're ready again tonight, sexy."

Chance rolled his eyes. "The way you two tease me? I'd be ready again in an hour... you fuckers."

The cusing was said with obvious love; both Frank and Juan laughed in response. Frank was happy to have a few extra minutes alone with Juan. They lounged in bed for a few more minutes, snuggling, kissing, and doing some light touching. Eventually Juan was the more responsible of the two, giving Frank one final kiss before hopping up. "Luego, mi amor. Prometo."

Chuckling, Frank gave Juan a light smack on the ass. "I'll hold you to that promise."

Getting dressed, the two headed out into the main part of the hotel room just as the shower in the bathroom turned off. Frank led the way, noticing that the sofa was empty. Juan apparently noticed Christopher before he did. "Morning, Cy. What's for breakfast?"

Frank was so focused on his early morning with his boyfriends that he had neglected to notice the tantalizing aroma coming from the kitchenette. Cy was fully dressed and he was unloading several parcels from a paper bag. "There was a nearby Mexican restaurant the lady at the front counter recommended so I picked up breakfast burritos for everyone."

Juan glanced at Frank, who recognized the expression when he saw it. He mouthed 'no', but Juan couldn't be stopped. "Breakfast burritos aren't actually from Mexico."

Christopher glanced at the two of them and shrugged. "Okay... and California Roll isn't real Japanese sushi."

The counter caused Juan to pause. "Huh?"

Cy finished emptying the bag and set the food out on the table. "You brought up the topic of genuine ethnic food so I was contributing to the conversation."

Juan stared blankly and Frank had to fight back a snicker; his boyfriend was not usually one upped. Recovering fairly quickly, Juan shot back. "I may not be from Mexico, but I--"

Christopher fired right back. "And I'm not from Japan, but I..." smirking, he trailed off the statement, offering up a wink.

Something about the silliness of the situation resulted in all three dissolving into laughter, confusing Chance immensely once the white boy emerged from the bedroom. "Oooookay... what'd I miss?"

A very brief summation of food-and-ethnicity humor was provided but Chance didn't get it; another round of laughter was added after Frank noted "I guess you had to have been here for it, sorry."

Once they finally sat down to eat the conversation changed to something a little more purposeful. The four of them chatted about the upcoming visit to the air-force base and the possibilities that it brought. Christopher explained that he had a feeling that the group was going to the base to get orders, not to be transported anywhere.

There was some back-and-forth about the optimistic point of view, and Cy followed up with his reasoning. "Vance Air-force Base is also an info hub for military communications and spy satellites. It has several classified project facilities, and The Chessmaster thinks that it's far more likely we're there for a briefing than to hitch a ride."

Juan ultimately took Christopher's thought to heart. "That makes sense. It wouldn't make sense for the military to transport Metamorphs anyway. Some 'special projects division' sounds much more likely... but, even if that IS the case we should still have a plan in mind for contingencies."

Chance swallowed a big bite of burrito. "Right... like what should we do if the military turns out to have some ulterior motive or plans on pushing the advantage while we're on their home turf."

Frank wanted to think positively but he couldn't deny Chance's concerns were worth considering. "Right... in which case, so long as everyone sticks close to me, I'll choose Teleportation as one of my powers and we'll pop right back here, then get the hell outta the city."

There were distinct benefits to Merc's ability to choose powers every time he shifted, and that flexibility was made all the stronger since they had spent the prior day in travel, leaving a fresh selection for him to choose during their visit to the air-force base. Christopher, however, being less familiar with the group's dynamics, had not been idle in his own planning. "More than that, if we're on a military base there are certain expectations those in charge will have, and they'll learn that their systems in this case will be less than reliable."

Juan squeezed some extra salsa out of a packet onto his burrito before pressing Cy for more information. "What do you mean, exactly?

The Asian student smiled, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "It make sense now why The Chessmaster wanted for me to come along: I'll be the variable they haven't taken into account-- it's just like in chess: it's a Rook Lift."

Chance put his burrito down, staring across the table at Cy. "What the hell is a 'Rook Lift', exactly?

Cy chuckled. "It's a chess maneuver-- relatively new in the terms of the game... it came about in the 1930s. It utilizes the versatility and maneuverability of the Rook by getting it out into the middle of the board. Since the military doesn't know about me and hasn't started a dossier we'll be able to take advantage of that blind spot and use me to best effect."

It was Frank's turn to grin; he loved sticking it to the man. "Right... Technokenesis is definitely the shit, especially when we're dealing with the military, which is about as addicted to technology as you can get. The Rook will be our ace in the hole in case we need to respond to anything unexpected."

Juan seemed to also agree with the plan as he nodded. "True. Military bases are full of technology. If we need to make a getaway and Merc's ability to teleport is limited or negated then the Rook will be able to help with a getaway. Having a 'Plan B' is definitely a better option than trying to come up with something on the spot."

Chance smirked. "Oh come on.... Merc's Metamorphs prides itself on last minute plans and sudden audibles."

Cy blinked blankly. "A what?"

Frank spoke up before Chance took the opportunity to go off on a football topic. "It's a sports term. It means a plan change that can alter a predetermined play or scrap it completely in favor of something else."

Christopher nodded. "Then, yes. Anything that improves flexibility in decisions could go a long way toward making the difference if things don't go as planned."

The discussion continued idly and, just as breakfast was finishing up, Frank got a notification on Merc's cell. Pulling it out, the young man checked the text, and he spoke it aloud to his boyfriends. "They have a briefing scheduled for 11:00. They want us to show up at the front gate."

Chance winced. "The front gate? Isn't that a little... public?"

Frank shrugged. "It's what they want, and I don't figure asking for a change of meeting point would go over well with the military."

Juan didn't seem to like the idea. "It's like they're advertising that they're working with Metamorphs. It makes me think that they're up to something."

Christopher was a little more pragmatic. "The more public the place the less likely they will be to try anything. Most governmental agencies, military included want plausible deniability. The more people see us going in there the better."

Chance gave Juan a gentle cuff on the shoulder. "Yeah... Merc's Metamorphs is a net positive team. Most folks out there think pretty highly of em so if folks are able to catch sight of a net positive team going into a military base then the government wouldn't actually look that good if the Metamorphs don't come back out."

Juan scowled. "Even suggesting something like that doesn't exactly make me feel better, Guapito."

Frank grit his teeth; any time Juan used that particular pet name it signaled that he was dealing with a lot of stress. Reaching out a hand, Frank rested it on Juan's shoulder. "We'll get in and get out-- if there are any problems we'll handle it together like we always do... okay?"

He was relieved to see Juan smile. "I know, Corazon, I know... I just don't like dealing with the military."

They all nodded at that. Chance was quick to add "Well... let's get this done, complete our deal with the State Department, and then go back to our purely non-political jobs."

It was a relief to see that they were all of the same mind; all heads nodded in unison, able and willing to agree on that very important point.

* * * * *

Thanks to Christopher's research into the area around the base, the team found a spot beyond the surveillance but still close to the air-force base as their place to change. As usual, Frank, Juan, and Chance brought sports bags with them; Juan had even carried an extra for Christopher as they reiterated their plans for the shift. Once they took their Metamorph forms they usually stowed their carrying bags but, considering they were heading into what was hopefully a safe zone, Frank thought it wisest to bring their personal effects with them.

The change smoothly as usual, except for Christopher's inclusion. While Frank, Juan and Chance had seen one another go through their shifting of forms numerous times, Christopher was a fairly new inclusion and Merc watching as The Rook finished his changed resulted in the Kangacobra's two penises pushing free from his slit as he stood on with what was probably a goofy grin across his snout. It didn't go unnoticed by Demon. "Dude... maybe YOU shoulda rubbed one out this morning too."

Chiding out of the way, the four Metamorphs switched into their uniforms as applicable; Merc was surprised when The Rook pulled out a simple pair of shorts and what initially looked similar to fingerless gloves, not unlike Ngalyod's Grasp except that they were significantly larger and, instead of black leather it was the same blue and gold as his shorts. The size made much more sense as the Raven slipped them onto his foot talons. Merc realized he wasn't the only one staring at the new member of the team and, once The Rook saw that he was the center of attention his feathers puffed up and he squawked indignantly "What? I needed to fit in with the group and nobody else offered any ideas for an outfit."

Bruiser was supportive. "I like the..." he paused as if looking for the right word. "...shoes? Sandals?"

Demon grinned, tongue lolling out the side of his muzzle. "Dude... they're gloves. Birds use their feet like hands and stuff."

Merc had to admit that the newest addition to their team created a sense of levity and uplifting humor, he also knew that they were about to go into a meeting with the military and they had to keep focused. "Cool it. We can all talk about how awesome The Rook is later-- right now: eyes on the prize, guys."

Bruiser agreed quickly enough, also switching over to speaking in everyone's minds rather than verbally. "Right. There are a lot of ways this can go wrong. Let's form up and head to the base."

The four of them got into the formation they'd decided on earlier: Merc and Demon were up front with Bruiser and The Rook behind. It was a modified version of their usual wedge formation with Merc in the front to absorb initial attacks (with varying sorts of invulnerability powers). Merc's Metamorphs only rarely ever 'used the front door' and it always left Merc feeling a little exposed but, presuming the military was making good on their promise of a pleasant welcome, he would suppress his fight-or-flight instinct as much as possible; his palm beneath Ngalyod's Grasp's itched regardless.

Once they arrived at the front gate the two soldiers stationed there were remarkably casual about it; the one on the right even went so far as to talk into the radio in his hand "Hey... we got another group of Powered."

Bruiser was very casual about using the mental speech. "ANOTHER group of powered? There may be more to this than meets the eye."

The Rook's mental 'voice' was quite excited. "You know, none of the reports The Chessmaster found on you guys knew that you had the ability to communicate like this. You have NO idea how much of a benefit this is."

Demon's chuckle was audible, but his response was only in their minds. "We sure do, Bird... we use it all the time to our advantage. Why do you think we work so hard to keep people from knowing about it?"

Merc let the continued discussion fade into the back of his mind; although he didn't 'listen' to it actively he was still able to understand that Bruiser was downplaying his significance by stating that every member of the team contributed in their own way, but the Kangacobra had to focus on the verbal communication from one of the guards who addressed him. "Merc's MeThetamorphs are cleared for entry, but our records say three, not four."

The Kangacobra shrugged. "We brought in a newbie."

The soldier scowled. "Sorry... only Merc's Metamorphs are cleared."

The Rook's thoughts joined Merc's. "Tell him that, under Article 4, Section 3 of the Metamorph Formation Protocol that any net positive Metamorph group with at least three members is able to accept no more than 2 probationary members."

Merc blinked the nictitating membranes of his eyes; it always worked well to off-balance Humans who were looking at him and he repeated exactly what The Rook suggested. The guard glanced over at the second soldier who pulled up his radio and repeated the statement. A moment later he nodded back to the one conversing with the Kangacobra and the man shrugged. "Sure. You're all cleared for entry."

Once the four made their way past the checkpoint they were met by a woman in fatigues with the name DAVIS printed above her right chest pocket. She was a young-looking, lighter-skinned black woman with her hair pulled up and back into a tight bun. "My name is Corporal Davis, and I'll be escorting you through the base. This way, please."

Corporal Davis turned out to be pleasant, but breif and to the point. Despite how difficult she was to engage in conversation, The Rook tried multiple times and, within a matter of minutes he was surprisingly capable of getting her to open up. The woman seemed gregarious by nature, but her military professionalism created a barrier to conversation until the Raven bypassed it with his outgoing demeanor.

The walk through Vance Airforce base turned into a guided tour as Corporal Davis started pointing out different features and answering some questions, but occasionally pointing out that certain questions The Rook asked were, in fact, about confidential subjects-- in some cases she out-and-out just shook her head and refused to say a word. Despite how silent the rest of Merc's Metamorphs were, The Rook was anything but mind-wise, elaborating on his questions and explaining how his senses expanded to encompass most of the base due to their electronic surveillance.

The Raven even took things a step further and used Bruiser's mind link in a way none of them had ever thought to: he started presenting what looked like a three dimensional map, creating a tactical board with important sites on it based on what he was able to glean out of the Corproal's answers. As they continued walking, heading toward what looked like a reinforced hangar, she actually posed a question of her own. "You know, to be honest, I recognize three of you-- Merc's Metamorphs. I've been a fan since you guys took down that terrorist cell in Detroit... but what's with the Raven here?"

The Rook laughed. "I'm a new recruit, hoping to join up, so I'm on probation. The Detroit thing is about when I first noticed em too, and after I went through my first change I did everything I could to try out and get a spot on the team!"

Merc was surprised at just how convincing the Raven sounded with the blatant lie; if he didn't know Christopher he probably would have believed The Rook. "He's doing fine so far... we'll see how it turns out after a few field missions."

She nods at that, and then moves up to the door to the reinforced building. She slid a pass key through the card reader and opened it, motioning them onward. "First freight elevator on the left, Gentlemen."

Merc paused, gauging whether her letting them go first was a possible sign of a trap; the same concern was echoed in a mental sending from Bruiser. Demon, however, was quick to reduce everyone's worry. "Hell, if they're going to try and trap us in here I'll just phase us through a wall... no biggie."

With that reassurance they walked in; fortunately she followed them in, closing the door behind all of them. The room within was incredibly small-- little more than a short T-hallway with two large double-door elevators at the end. Merc led the team to the doors on the left and turned to wait for Corporal Davis. She nodded as she passed him, swiping her credentials through the card reader and she waited in front of the doors until they opened, and she went in first. "At your leisure, gentlemen."

Once the Metamorphs stepped into the large elevator the door closed and the Corporal slid her card AGAIN and pressed one of the buttons. As the elevator began to descend, she spoke again. "This is the end of my tour with you. Once we reach the bottom you'll be meeting with Lieutenant Hopper. He'll take you the rest of the way."

The Rook, as gregarious as ever asked what was on all their minds. "The rest of the way to what, Corporal Davis?"

She shrugged. "I wasn't briefed and, if I was, I probably wouldn't have clearance to say. Good luck either way, gentlemen."

They each took the opportunity to thank her, and Demon even went so far as to offer her an autograph. The offer, tongue-in-cheek as it was, got a laugh from the woman, but she went silent as the double doors opened. Merc was surprised to see a Metamorph kangaroo wearing combat fatigues waiting for them. Corporal Davis saluted immediately. "Guest transfer to the Logistical Tactical Cetner, Lieutenant!"

The Kangaroo repeated the salute. "At ease, Corporal. Gentlemen, welcome to LTC at Vance Airforce Base."

Bruiser was the first to speak. "I didn't know the US Military had enlisted Metamorphs. Isn't that against the LPIA?"

The Lieutenant reached up and rubbed at one of his fuzzy ears. "Sure is... if you're a Metamorph BEFORE you enlist... I've been in the Airforce for over 10 years... only been a Metamorph for 8, so the Limited Powered Interference Accord doesn't apply."

Demon quickly chimed in. "Did they turn you into one?"

Merc elbowed the Pitbull. "Dude... that's just a rumor... Jesus! Sorry, Lieutenant Hopper."

The Lieutenant guffawed at the comment, obviously the kind of guy with a sense of humor. "Aww... don't fret, Merc... I hear all sorts of crazy shit all the time. Anyway, now that it's just us Metamorphs you can drop the 'Lieutenant'... when I'm in-Meta form go by Dennis."

Demon was surprised. "You use your real name instead of a pseudonym?"

The Kangaroo grinned. "Dennis? Nah... that IS my Metamorph call-sign. Lt. 'Dennis Hopper'."

Merc and Demon both groaned, realizing exactly what he meant. Bruiser's question came mentally "What does he mean?"

Merc replied in thoughts "The movie star? Dennis Hopper? He's a kangaroo, so 'hopper'. It's a pun."

Their guide continued on, surprisingly open. "My name is actually Ezra Hopper... Lieutenant Ezra Hopper, but when I'm a Metamorph I go by my call sign."

Demon's fur puffed up. "Ugh... I couldn't handle combining my identities... too many risks to being a Human when people know you're a Metamorph."

Dennis Hopper shrugged. "Well, when a standard military medical scan shows you're a Metamorph it's not an easy thing to hide. The air-force has it all classified anyway so only my COs, base command, and higher ranked officers know about it."

The Kangaroo turned out to be not only more gregarious than the Corporal, but also much more vocal... and, if any of the group thought his call sign was the worst pun he'd throw out there, they were badly mistaken. They passed through several hallways, numerous doors (protected by key card), and down two flights of stairs; the Kangaroo didn't stop talking at any point in time. Eventually, however, he came to a stop at the end of a hallway with a set of doors at the end-- doors that DIDN'T have a magnetic lock on them. "Well... that's the end of our tour. The briefing awaits!"

Pushing the door open, Dennis Hopper led the way. Merc followed a step behind but came to a stop as he looked at a good-sized meeting room full with at least two dozen Metamorphs and just two humans. Merc wasn't familiar with military rank insignia but he was left with the impression that the old white guy was probably pretty high ranked, and the not-quite-as-old Hispanic lady to his right Merc had already met: it was Claudia Alvarez, Secretary of state. She had the same smile on as the first time they'd met. "Good. Now that everyone is here please take a seat and we can begin the briefing."