Avalanche: Book Five in the Secret World Chronicle

by Lackey, Mercedes

  Sera bristled. The feathers of her wings puffed out a little, and her wings began to vibrate. The feathers rustled against each other. It sounded a little like a rattlesnake.

  The ADA jerked in his seat, then tried too late to hide it. He cleared his throat. “This is…a very serious matter, Mr. and Mrs. Murdock. By law, both of you have to be registered with ECHO. Given past incidents with metahumans that had abilities on the level that you do, it’s only prudent for us to act. For the safety of our fellow citizens.” John was unimpressed, and did his best to show it. The ADA looked to the others on his side of the table, then continued. “Of secondary concern is Mr. Murdock’s status in relation to the United States Army. At present, he’s recorded as being Absent Without Official Leave—”

  “That’s horseshit, an’ I’ll bet at least one of you knows it,” he exploded, letting his anger flare for a moment. “I never deserted from the Army. I got left. More like MIA, presumed dead. There’s a difference.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. He mentally started a countdown to when he’d be well and truly fed up with these proceedings. “If any of you have the clearance for it, y’might have an inklin’ ’bout what went down, an’ why I’m no longer in the Army. It ain’t by choice, or it wasn’t at the time. But that’s immaterial now, ain’t it?”

  “Not even remotely, Mr. Murdock.” That was the CIA section officer. “Your…absence is absolutely germane to these proceedings and to your current status. For example, depending on how this hearing goes, we could very well take you back today.”

  John couldn’t help but grin at that. “Could you, now?” He leaned back in his chair, keeping his tone nonchalant. But the implied threat was still there. He could feel the people in the room getting more and more uncomfortable. Fuck ’em. We didn’t ask to get dragged in front of a bunch of empty suits and dead-eyed bureaucrats. If they’re uncomfortable, that’s on them.

  “We could try.” Agent Gibson hadn’t taken his eyes off of John and Sera since they had entered the room. John had read the man’s emotions when they first met. Gibson was a nasty piece of work, and a large part of him wanted to be turned loose to kill John and Sera. All he needed was an excuse and authorization. The ugly smile that crept into the corners of the agent’s mouth confirmed it. He struck John as the sort of man that would’ve been comfortable on a slave patrol, or overseeing a concentration camp. His job was an excuse for satisfying his own sick appetites, when the opportunity arose. John had met a few like Gibson; never in his own unit, but where other violent sorts congregated. Men like him always found ample work, especially with those in power.

  Sera’s eyes began to blaze, deep down inside the pupils. John could feel her tensing. Her right hand flexed, as if she itched to call her sword or spear.

  “Listen,” John said, leaning forward again; it was getting to the point where he had to diffuse this or just risk the pair of them walking out. “We’re not any threat to anyone. Unless they’re Thulians. We’re here to help, got it? We’ve fought alongside military units, done law enforcement work locally, and scrapped a lotta Krieger heavy metal. How would tryin’ to collar us be worth the effort for y’all when we’re doin’ just fine on our own?”

  “Because, Mr. Murdock, of the fact that, while you’re helping us now…doesn’t mean that you always will. Metahumans, especially those of particularly high Op classification, are known to be…unstable. Unreliable. And dangerous.”

  “Of note on that particular line of thought is the Seraphym—erm, Mrs. Murdock,” said the FBI division head. “There is virtually nothing known about you. Where you came from prior to the Invasion, where your exact allegiances are, hell, if you’re even a damned American citizen! On those grounds alone, not to mention your Op classification, we have enough justification to detain you.”

  Sera’s wings flared, and so did her fires. Now all of the agents did draw weapons, though they were very careful to not point them at either John or Sera. “I do not answer to you,” she said flatly.

  “And there’s the problem we’ve been talking about! Who do either of you answer to? When metahumans are as powerful as the two of you are, they’re a power unto themselves. What’s to stop either of you from selling to the highest bidder, or trying to set up your own kingdoms, or just rampaging wantonly if you have a bad day? If you’re not with us, under government control, there’s no reason to think that you couldn’t be against us any day.” That was the police chief. He was so agitated that it looked like his bushy mustache was going to fly off of his face as he was talking.

  “Or…we could leave,” said Sera, between clenched teeth, “and allow you to continue to battle the Thulians without us. I am certain that there are other nations that would be more respectful and grateful for our aid.” Now her eyes were blazing, and it would have taken a blind man not to see it.

  None of the Feds or locals liked the sound of that. All of them started talking at once, about arrests, detention, questioning, and so forth. John looked at Sera; their joint patience had just run out. John was just about to stand up—and damn the consequences—when he heard a voice in his ear.

  “And reap the whirlwind in three…two…one…” The doors to the service entrance behind the “tribunal” flew open with such force that they cracked the wall panels and their handles lodged in the plasterboard. In the doorway stood Bella, Bull—Bull must have been the one that shoved open the doors—Spin Doctor and Mamona. They were all fully encased in Bull’s force field. Behind them, in the shocked silence that had filled the room, was the sound of many, many people retching in agony, vomiting so hard they were close to throwing up their toenails.

  A moment later, snapping out of their daze, every agent in the room, including Gibson, aimed their weapons at the new arrivals, and started shouting orders; to stand down, to put their weapons away, and so forth.

  And in the next moment, it was the agents in the room who were bending over, vomiting like the ones in the hallway. Agent Gibson was the only one still feebly trying to aim his weapon…until he was hit with a redoubled wave of nausea.

  “Shut. The fuck. Up,” said Bella, through gritted teeth. “Let ’em loose, Mamona. I don’t want to be knee-deep in puke. By the way, good job. The training seems to be working.”

  Mamona grinned, and the agents stopped vomiting. But they were in no way in good shape. The entire room was quickly filling with the stink of several emptied stomachs. All of the agents looked shaky and pale.

  “The Commissar of the CCCP, callsign Red Saviour II, civilian name Natalya Shostakovaya, would like to know on what grounds you are detaining two of her comrades. Who, might I add, have diplomatic protections under the International Mutual Metahuman Aid Act of 1967. Are you really jonesing that hard for international war provocations with Russia while we’re already fighting with the Thulians?” Bella smiled thinly into the silence. “But that is not really what brought me here.”

  “Ms. Parker, this is highly irregular! This is a closed hearing!” The ADA had half-risen in his seat; he looked torn between righteous indignation and bolting for the nearest exit.

  “I said, shut the fuck up,” Bella repeated. “Unless your colleagues here would really like to see the last twenty-five or so years of unredacted documents about the illegal detention, torture, murder of and experimentation on metahumans and humans, including minor children, in the NSA black program known colloquially as ‘the Program’ dumped on every media outlet in the world in the next ten minutes.”

  John noticed that the CIA rep visibly stiffened at the mention of the Program, right before his eyes went deadly cold. Gotcha, asshole. Definitely got to have Vickie look up what rock that bastard crawled out from under.

  “Oh, and just to prove I’m not bluffing”—one elegant eyebrow rose—“the head of research for the Program is one Joseph Garvey, PhD, alphabet soup. And very recently ECHO took custody of twenty-three minor children from just one Program Facility in the Florida Everglades after it was attacked by Thulians. The T
hulians also evidently know about your little torture-fest sites. You might ponder that for a moment as well.” Guess Vix filled Bella in, at least partially, on what went down in Florida. Might have to see about that, for Zach’s sake if nothing else.

  The silence now contained a strong component of “stunned disbelief.” Bella examined her fingernails critically. “The testimony of these minor children is probably not something you want televised. But of course, that is not all.” She gestured to Spin Doctor, who took one small step forward, frowning in a “Father is Displeased with your Behavior” way.

  “I suspect that you also would not care to have the fact televised that you have taken two prominent heroes of the Invasion, people who have saved countless lives, and illegally detained them,” said Spin Doctor, who was obviously enjoying his role. “And that leaves aside the fact that one of them, the Seraphym, is a Peruvian National. I happen to have copies of her papers right here.” He waved them at about shoulder height. “And of course, by dint of their marriage, that makes John Murdock a Peruvian National as well, should he care to accept that status.” Spin consulted his notes. “Also interesting to the media would be the fact that you have used legislation that has not yet been enacted as law, is currently only just up before a House committee, is being protested by the ACLU, ECHO, and the Southern Poverty Law Center and will certainly be deemed unconstitutional by the Supreme Court, as justification for detaining these two members of the CCCP.”

  “And,” Bella appended smoothly, “these entire proceedings have been recorded from the moment you detained Mr. and Mrs. Murdock. From the illegal seizure and detention itself, to the intimidations and threats you met them with in this…ballroom.” Her mouth quirked briefly. “Really? A ballroom? If you were truly that serious about how threatening these two are, why did you choose a ballroom, in a public hotel, in downtown Atlanta, to interrogate them in? Seraphym and Murdock have taken down a Thulian dragon ship. Just the two of them. If you had pissed them off to the point of no return, what do you think they could have done to downtown Atlanta? The only possible conclusion is that you knew very well that if they felt threatened and left, the worst that would happen would be some scorched carpet and a couple holes in some walls. Therefore all this concern about how dangerous they are is as phony as a three-dollar bill.”

  “This has been recorded, surreptitiously, this entire time?” The ADA’s mouth worked for a few moments before he finally started speaking again. “I, um, I’m sure that that, erm, violates wiretapping statutes—”

  “Really? Not in this state,” Spin Doctor said flatly. “As you should be aware, Mister Assistant District Attorney, since you’ve taken advantage of that fact for your own cases. For recording to be legal in Georgia, only one party has to be aware that recordings are being made. But you’re welcome to try to push that one through. It will, of course, be long after the time that we’ve dumped those recordings on worldwide media sites.”

  “We’ll be leaving now,” Bella said, drawing herself up to her full height. “John Murdock and the Seraphym will be leaving with us. ECHO will still be coordinating and working with the military and the US Government—along with all other world ally governments—to effectively combat and defend against the Thulians. I believe Commissar Red Saviour will also continue in that capacity with the CCCP, either independently or as an adjunct through ECHO, although you should be aware she has already lodged diplomatic protests against you. All of you. Individually, by name. That’ll look just peachy on your records.” She smiled thinly, then lost the smile. “But this ends. Now. Pull a trick like this against any other meta, and ECHO will relocate to Lima, and leave you to twist in the wind.” She gestured to John and Sera, and Bulwark briefly dropped the shield around them all. “Let’s get you two back to CCCP before the Commissar has an aneurism.”

  John and Sera both stood up from their seats, joined the group with Bella, and Bull put the shield back up—a pointed reminder that no one with Bella trusted anyone here. They all began walking towards the room’s exit. “Thanks for the steak,” John said over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of Agent Gibson in the corner of his eye; the man had recovered somewhat, and there was a burning hatred in his eyes. He wouldn’t forget the couple…and guys like that never let grudges go unanswered. So be it. If he decides to make an issue out of this little encounter, it’ll be the worst goddamned mistake of his life.

  The pair took up position next to Bella and Bulwark as they paused beside the doorway. John crossed his arms, waiting to see what would happen next.

  “So,” Bella said. “Have I made the position of ECHO and the CCCP perfectly clear? Are there any objections?”

  The room was silent. Some of the hearing members were befuddled. Others were boiling with rage. Most felt embarrassed, at least as far as John could tell through his senses. All of them, though, were cowed. Saving their own skin was a priority for them; political critters thought of themselves first, after all.

  “I just want to point out that attempting to lodge any charges against anyone for assault on a federal agent will only result in a worse…ah…shitstorm for you,” Spin said, with a Mona Lisa-like smile. “First, you are going to have to prove that any assault actually took place. Recordings will show that not one of us laid so much as a finger on any of you. And second…we have all those juicy unredacted records. And we have the capability to drop them wherever, whenever we choose. Don’t think of this as blackmail. Think of it as mutually assured destruction.”

  More silence.

  “Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Bella got a look of extreme disgust on her face. “There is not one of you here that is worthy to be scraped off Arthur Chang’s shoe like the dogshit that you are.”

  And with that, she turned and led the way out of the room, Bull’s shield like a halo around them.

  * * *

  After making their way out of the hotel, there had been a CCCP van and an ECHO car waiting for the group. The trip back was uneventful; no cars following them, no sirens or patrol car lights, nothing. John did notice that Mamona was grinning the entire drive back, however.

  “I’ve always wanted t’do somethin’ like that. Kind of badass, wasn’t it? Well, ’cept for the smell.”

  “Damned right it was, comrade. Thanks for comin’ to our rescue. Might’ve gotten uglier an’ messier than it already was, if you an’ the cavalry hadn’t barged in when you did.”

  “My pleasure! You two ought t’get into trouble more often!” Mamona’s grin widened. “Bella’s got a new trick. Some of us, she can train up with amplified powers. Mostly, it’s us with psion powers, and takin’ ones to two, and twos to three. She reckons I’m ’bout a two and a half now.” Now that was interesting. John didn’t know enough about metahuman power generation or physiology to even make educated guesses at how that worked, other than it had something to do with how people accessed their powers, but still…every tool they could get in the fight against the Thulians was one that John was willing to take.

  Both vehicles arrived at the CCCP HQ right after dusk. The entire episode, from getting picked up to getting back to relative safety, had taken up the entire day. John and Sera, exhausted at the start of it, were even more bone-tired now. It was only their shared connection, and the energy that they fed each other through it, that was keeping them going. It took only a minute to get everyone out of the vehicles, through the main entrance and past security, and into the CCCP briefing room. The Commissar and Untermensch were already there, waiting for them.

  “So…you are to be explaining why pair of firebombs are allowing themselves to be captured, with not even one of their captors being killed. Or how you two are even captured at all. Da?” The Commissar was chain-smoking through one of her awful packs of cigarettes; a pile of angrily smashed out cigarette butts filled a tray in front of her to overflowing.

  “We figured that leavin’ a pile of dead Feds in the middle of the ’hood wouldn’t really help our public relations image,
Commissar. It was a better move to hold back, let ’em show their hand, an’ work our way from there. We weren’t captured, so much as taken for a ride; could’ve left any time we wanted…though there would’ve been consequences.” He paused. “’Sides. Vix was recordin’ everythin’. Minute they stopped us, they were in trouble. They just didn’ know it till Bella made her entrance.”

  Natalya sucked on her teeth dismissively. “Fine, fine. Was listening on Overwatch with witch and blue girl. May have been tactical necessity. Question for now is what to do going forward. I know the likes of the running dogs you two were dealing with. Politicians,” she nearly spat the word, it was filled with so much venom, “only want more of what they have: power. You two are power, at least to them. They will come again, no matter what Amerikanski threats they hear.”

  “Commissar is right. Snakes like these only know how to slither in the filth; it is what they are accustomed to. Decisive action now may be the most prudent course, to prevent any…difficulties further down the line.” Untermensch had a pile of folders laid out in front of him. John recognized pictures of at least three of the men that had been at the hearing inside the folders.

  John held up his hand. “I’m goin’ to say we need some other option. We’ve got enough on our plates with the Thulians; tryin’ to take on the US government, even if we weren’t at war, is usually a shit idea. They’ve got more money, more guns, an’ more lawyers.” He knew that Georgi wasn’t suggesting that they start bumping people off, though the Commissar would probably jump at that notion, but still…it was best to get it off of the table now, before it started seeming attractive.