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Merc's Metamorphs

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Chapter 31: Sacrifice

As with anything involving Legendary Unlimited, the follow-up meeting was not easy. In addition to having a new meet-up site, Reed explained that he wouldn't be attending but would have an intermediary there in his place. Although that stipulation caused a fair amount of trepedation among his team, Frank was willing to let it slide, especially once Christopher pointed out that the CEO would want to distance himself from the transaction in order to have plausible deniability.

Not entirely approving of the plan, Frank was willing to play along and so they agreed upon meeting Reed's representative at an abandoned gas station on the outskirts of Phoeniz Arizona the following Friday night. There was one time in his life when Frank considered it insane how 'global' the powered hero trade was but, after having lived it for a few years, traveling half way across the country to have a short business meeting seemed like just another business day for him-- it even made him laugh.

After classes that Friday the team met up in their dorm apartment. Considering the short timeframe, and the fact that Merc was familiar with Phoenix, they decided that they'd teleport directly from their place to the alley behind a bakery along Highway 60. From there it was less than a mile to the gas station, making it a convenient trip for them-- if they were seen, well, that'd just be an opportunity to sign autographs... not that a lot of people would stop their cars along the shoulder of a highway to engage Metamorphs in fan-boying and fan-girling, but it still brought a smirk to Merc's snout when he mentioned it to his boyfriends.

Once the four of them were in Arizona they took a moment to get their bearings and were ready to head out-- except Demon wanted to make a brief stop. Heading into the bakery, the Pit Bull came out a moment later with a box. He opened it up, revealing a dozen donuts. "They remembered us!"

Rolling his eyes, Merc, nevertheless, accepted a donut. Rook's expression was one of curiosity but, before he had the chance to ask anything, Bruiser took a donut and explained. "We helped the bakery about a year ago. A gang war carried over along the highway and there was gonna be some trouble here, but we cleared it up without any damage."

Demon spoke around a muzzle-ful of glazed donut. "They said come back anytime... who are we to turn down hospitality?"

Rook bumped Merc with his hip as they all strolled together on the shoulder of the highway. "Just more proof that not everything has to be a contract. Sometimes the most memorable deeds are the ones that happen organically."

Merc shrugged. "Well... we WERE here on contact, technically..."

Bruiser sided with Rook. "But not to handle the gang issue... we did it because it was the right thing."

The Kangacobra had to admit that he DID like doing good for the sake of good when it was convenient, it just didn't pay the bills. There was definitely a VALUE in helping people with the powers they had, but it was a long, ongoing discussion that came up occasionally among Merc's Metamorphs: pay when it's needed, and spare time can be spent doing good. It wasn't something he felt the need to get into that evening. "Can't argue with free donuts, I guess... and we didn't even have to ask for em. You DIDN'T ask for them, did ya, Demon?"

The Pit Bull glanced at Merc out of the corner of his eyes, two donuts half in his muzzle. Tail wagging, Demon shook his head. "Nope!" He swallowed. "They recognized me right away and insisted."

Seeing as Demon NEVER lied about where and how he got food, Mec was willing to accept that at face value. "Cool... just make sure they're all gone ahead of our meet up."

The Pit Bull continued wagging. "No worries about that... only three left."

Bruiser let out an indignant chirp out of his blow hole before reaching for the box. "No sea egoista, Golso! Convide!"

Rook glanced toward the Orca and Pit Bull before looking to Merc. "Does that need to be translated?"

Before Merc could speak up, Demon beat him to it. "Hell if I know... Bruiser knows I don't speak Spanish but he uses it anyway."

Smirking, Merc lashed out with his tail, batting away one of the paws with which Demon defended the box. "He said Demon needs to share."

Sighing with a smirk, the Pit Bull gave up the last donuts: one for Merc, one for Bruiser, and one for Rook. "There you cry babies... happy now?"

Bruiser held up his donut. "It's a start. You shouldn't be eating that much right now anyway... we need to be ready for anything."

That simple statement brought down the mood. Merc, donut in talon, sighed. "It'll be fine, but Bruiser's right-- we should keep aware of what's going on."

Demon patted his stomach. "I can do that with a full tank, no worries... and if it comes to it, I can just phase the donus right out of my gut. Man... that'd be a waste though."

The last of the donuts were polished off before the group arrived at the gas station. As per the directions provided by Reed, they moved around behind the main building and went to the back door of the convenience store portion of the structure. While the building appeared to be boarded up, Merc saw that the boards were just for show: the nails were sliced, allowing for easy entry. Glancing back to his team, he switched over to their mind communication. "Stay on guard."

Despite how ready they were to meet with a contact, they were not ready for who that turned out to be. Seated next to a dusty cash register was a Kangaroo metamorph. Even though he was dressed in civilian clothing, Merc recognized him right away. "Lieutenant Hopper?"

The Roo's ears were already facing ther direction, but he turned his head toward them too. "Hey guys! Good t'see ya again... and, like I said before, 'Dennis' is fine... no 'lieutenant' needed. Besides... I'm not here on military biz anyway."

Demon, as usual, didn't bother with any tact. "Why ARE you here then, exactly?"

The Kangaroo shrugged. "Well... believe it or not, once you've had your Metamorph status outted in the military it kinda sticks with you. I'm being discharged soon enough and... well... considering I've spent the last 10 years protecting my country, I figured I could keep doing it. I got an invite to do some consulting work for L.U. with the possibility of it turning into a full time thing when I finish my airforce service."

Merc wasn't sure what to think about that. "Really? Haven't you heard about all the stuff that Legendary gets accused of doing when it comes to taking advantage of Metamorphs?"

Dennis shrugged. "Well... to be honest, a little, yeah... but there's talk about them starting a government referral program for the Metamorphs exiting service. I figure that anything so high profile should be on the up-and-up. Besides..." at that point he hopped off the counter where he'd been sitting, "Seems weird for you to bring up concerns over L.U. when you're doing contract work, yeah?"

Rook brought things back into focus, speaking to the group in their minds. "Considering we ARE here for Legendary Unlimited business, it would be best to keep things focused on the job rather than politics. Besides, if he IS going to be working for them, this could be a good opportuity to make an ally."

Merc took that suggestion to heart. "Right... Dennis. We were told that Legendary turned over a new leaf, so we're giving em a chance."

The Kangaroo nodded. "Sure. I get that. Kinda getting my feet wet here too... something siple to get started with more in the future. Makes sense to me so I can't exactly fault you guys for it too, right?"

Nodding back, Merc jumped right into things; he realized he was interrogating their contact aggresively, but he honestly wanted answers. "Yeah.. 'cool'. So, how're you involved and who told you about the meet-up here?"

Smiling, Dennis responded. "Not sure you'll believe it... but Thaddius Reed Giddings himself contracted me. Well... not PERSONALLY-- he did it through an intermediary, but he DID have me stop by the office to get this for you guys." The Kangaroo produced an envelope and held it out to Merc.

Bruiser took it first. "This is from Reed?"

Dennis smirked. "Heh... cool... he told you to call him 'Reed' too? Pretty down to earth guy for being a multi-billionaire."

Merc accepted the envelope from Bruiser. "What's the plan then, and what part do you play in it?"

The Kangaroo shook his head. "No idea, and I don't. My job's to deliver that to you unopened, and that's it."

Demon snorted through his nose. "I wish OUR job was that easy."

Dennis' ears raised at that. "Oh? So you guys already know what you're supposed to be doing then?"

Smirking like a jackass, the Pit Bull repsonded flatly. "That's classified."

Bruiser's take on the situation wasn't so light. His objection came in the form of a mental sending of his thoughts. "I don't like the whole bait-and-switch thing. We weren't told to expect a delivery from another Metamorph... and definitely not one connected to the government and our last job. There's more going on than we're aware of, and I'm not sure I'm good with this."

Merc took that to heart. "We'll need a minute... just a second, Dennis."

Rook immediately spoke up on an inane topic. "I am honestly surprised to see Lieutenant Hopper again. What a coincidence."

The statement was really to hide the conversation they shared metally. The discussion they had verbally was about the group's concern over how many people were involved and how they're dealing with an intermediary and not being sure that the chain of information control was reasonable. That, of course, hid the real topic, which remained non-verbal, led by Rook. "This may not be anything to be TOO worried about. If, at any time, things seem fishy we can easily call it quits and abandon the contract. Since the contract isn't officially registered then it won't even cost the group tracked performance credit."

Demon did a good job of speaking while also thinking, keeping his real concerns to their mindspace only. "TPC be damned, I don't wanna get stabbed in the back. I mean... I'm open to giving it a shot, but only if everyone's in."

Merc had the same misgivings, but he thought the long term benefits for Metamorphs could be worth a little discomfort. "A few things seem shady, sure, but this cloak-and-dagger shit always does. Considering the change this could bring if Reed is on the level and the plan works... I think it's worth it. Does anyone here disagree?"

After a few more uncomplicated verbal statements, the group came to the same conclusion in their minds as they did verbally. Merc opened the envelope, stating aloud "Alright, Dennis... you can let your handler know we'll get it done."

The four of them crowded together to look at the collection of papers included in the envelope as Lieutenant Hopper said his farewells and took his leave. The first thing that they all noticed was the first thing Demon pointed out. "It's fucking PUBLIC?!"

Rook, surprisingly, was also a little hesitant for once. "I had not anticipated targeting a board member at a sporting event. This... complicates things."

Merc, out of all of them, surprised himself by 'getting it' right away, and he explained. "Hey... where we do it doesn't matter from an execution standpoint and, besides: it makes sense. This is supposed to send a message, so being public makes sense."

Bruiser didn't seem to agree. "Maybe... but something this overt can put a lot of people at risk. Collateral damage, not to mention--"

The Kangacobra interjected. "We're careful, Bruiser... we're ALWAYS careful."

Rook, thankfully, came to Merc's defense. "He's right. While it adds complexity to the task, it also gives us the advantage because the security detail will have more distractions." with a snide smirk, the Raven channeled his inner Demon and added a very Pit Bull-like statement. "Plus, considering it's at a ball park, there will be a lot of electronic devices around, which means my value to the group will be even greater."

* * * * *

Merc was no more into sports than Frank was and that was really just to watch athletic, sweaty guys do their thing; unfortunately, with other tasks to be completed, the Metamorph was not able to appreciate such activities, and so, as he gathered in the staging area beneath the stands with his team, the Kangacobra chose to go over the plan with them one more time-- it was their fifth.

Before they could really get into it, Demon brought up what should probably have been addressed from the beginning. "So... about all the cameras..."

Bruiser had an answer at the ready so quickly that Merc presumed that the Orca had probably considered it himself. "That's not a problem... Rook can just blank them... right?"

All eyes went to the Raven, who fluffed up at the attention. "That, as a matter of course, should not be our greatest concern, to be honest.

Demon fidgeted. "Eh... I'm not so sure I really wanna be caught on camera trying to murder someone in the middle of a sporting event."

Bruiser quickly corrected him. "We aren't actually trying to kill him, you know."

The Pit Bull scowled, his tail tucking. "I'm not sure what's worse: being on camera killing someone, or being caught on camera FAILING to kill someone..."

Merc pulled the discussion back into focus. "It really doesn't matter, D. The whole point is for this thing to be public and, besides, Merc's Metamorphs is a net positive group. Sure, we'll take a hit to our score but, attempted murder will barely bump us down at all. Hell, we could kill the guy and still have points to spare."

Bruiser scowled deeply. "But we WON'T, because we don't murder people."

Merc nodded, gesturing to the Orca. "Exactly."

That didn't seem to help, and a faint, canine whine escaped the Dog. "That's even worse. Won't people wonder about our sudden change of heart in being willing to kill someone just because we're paid to do it? Fuck, guys... we try to avoid killing people even when they're trying to kill us. Murdering an unarmed target is WAAAAAY outside our whole way of doing things."

Rook rested a wing on the Dog's shoulder. "Demon... we are just a catalyst in this case. They will not look too closely at this; their focus will be on the act, not the actor and, like Merc said, there will be no reporcussions, save some bad word of mouth for a few weeks. We can easily undo that by making sure that the next task Merc takes will be well received by the media. Public opinion is easily shifted and is very short term."

The Pit Bull let out a long sigh; Merc could tell he wasn't taking it well, but the Kangacobra knew that Demon would still help get it done. "Don't worry about it, Love... ten minutes, and then it'll all be behind us. Just stick to the plan and everything'll be alright."

Bruiser reached out and gave Demon's paw a squeeze. "We're all together here. We'll make it work, Amor."

Rook fluffed up his feathers. "So, like we've planned, give me a few minutes to get settled up on top of the announcer's booth and I'll send you a mind message when Merc can get started with making a scene."

Merc nodded. "Right a little property damage and some loud threats'll get the attention of the target's security detail... and that's when Demon and Bruiser make their move."

Bruiser cleared his throat. "Claro. Bruiser and I rise up into the stands from below and we grab the target."

The four of them paused as the overwhelming roar of cheering fans from above drowned out eveyrthing else; the game had started. Once the noise faded to the background, Merc continued. "I'll have my Invulnerability up as my second power for the day so I won't have to worry about any trigger-happy L.U. henchmen trying to off me, and I'll hang around just long enough to give them the impression that I'm getting overwhelmed, and then I'll get the fuck out... bounding away so I don't showoff teleporting, and, with me gone, that'll leave Bruiser and Demon to face all of them."

Demon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "After spouting out threats and promises of getting torn apart to the board guy we'll high tail it without finishing the job once we realize we're outnumbered, ensuring that we are marked forever more as totally inept assassins."

Bruiser gave the Dog a light elbow. "Be serious, Demon. We aren't SUPPOSED to be killing him, so, yes, we leave with him still alive, but that's a GOOD thing."

Rook, in his incredibly diplmatic way, managed to offer a statement that did a much better job of placating the Pit Bull. "Look on the bright side: this public failure will likely result in us not beingh solicited for any more assassination jobs in the future."

Merc smirked. "See? Silver lining!"

Grumbling, Demon sighed. "Fine... let's just get this the fuck over with."

The Kangacobra gave his dour Pit Bull boyfriend a hug and was joined quickly thereafter by Bruiser and Rook; that did get the Dog's tail going, if only a little. Ready to take on the world, Demon helped Rook get into position with some carefully-used phasing before returning to Merc and Bruiser. The Orca gave the Kangacobra a pat on the shoulder. "Don't overdo it out there, okay? No hamming it up just to get attention."

Bruiser's wink told Merc that there was humor meant in the statement, but he had no trouble responding with mock indignation. "What? Me? How DARE you! Everyone in the group knows that my distracting banter and over-the-top theatrics are on point!"

A quick kiss was shared among the team, at which point Merc took his leave, heading toward the sparsely populated halls of the stadium; with the game about to begin it was a lot easier to move around without being noticed. Moving to one of the many archways leading into the bleachers of the stadium, Merc took up his position, waiting for Rook to announce it was time. As he did so, he picked at the mental connction he had with his team. "King Cobra is in position."

It was a call sign he hadn't used in awhile, but couldn't resist. Demon, suprisingly upbeat compared to his earlier dour outlook was quick to respond. "Pound puppy in position."

Before their little callsign game could continue, Rook interrupted them. "Pound Puppy?"

Bruiser clarified. "It was a toy line from the 1980s that also became a cartoon series. It was Demon's snappy comeback one day when we--"

The Pit Bull interjected. "NOTHING to do with the cartoon or the toys. I chose 'pound puppy' because I go hard and deep."

Stiffling a laugh, Merc was just about to add in his own two cents when Rook's commanding mental message override the banter. "It's time. Target is in position."

Knowing that timing was everything, the Kangacobra didn't even hesitate, barreling into the stadium as loudly as possible, roaring out at the top of his lungs. "HEY! LEGENDARY SHITHEAD! GUESS WHO'S HERE FOR A SPECIAL BOARD MEETING?!"

It probably wasn't the most inspired war cry, but he hoped the 2x4 he carried was a worthwhile prop. The contents of his shout, he realized, were not as important as being seen and heard, but he still had an image to upkeep. Fortunately, his rowdy appearance was enough to get plenty of attention, and he even appeared on several of the huge monitors posted around the stadium. Rook quickly spoke up in their minds. "That was fast. Demon and Bruiser, we are ready for you now."

Rook was certainly not wrong; Merc watched as he was approached by no less than a dozen men dressed too well to blend into the crowd; it didn't help that they all wore suits, shades, and ear pieces. He also anticipated that they were all armed. Not sparing any drama, the Kangacobra pointed his board at the closest salaryman. "I'm not here for you, Corpo Cog... stand down and you can get out of here without a beating."

Demon's voice was too far away for Merc to hear it, but the Pit Bull presented it in their mental communication anyway to help everyone track events. "Tell your men to stand down and we'll make it quick... if any of em so much as pulls a gun then we'll flay you alive."

It was a dark statement, but they all knew that the Pit Bull had quite the reputation despite being a softie-- it was probably the phasing-and-fire thing.

Merc smiled on the inside, unable to sacrifice his aggressive demeanor as he messaged his team "NOW who's being melodramatic?"

Things were going well and, as the Kangacobra was soon to realize: too well. There was a murmur and then a shout among the crowd. Cheering? Rook's mental statement cut through all of that. "Problem."

Merc wasn't in a good position to see Rook's position from where he was standing without sacrificing attention to take it from the men surrounding him, but the huge electronic screen visible from where he stood showed the issue: cameras were focused on Rook, who was not alone on the announcer's box. The Raven was hanging from an iron-firm grip around his throat and the blood in Merc's veins went cold as he murmured "....Glory."