by P. S. Power
For some reason it worked.
“Hi... Your friend there didn't know it, but she kind of just assaulted a Federal agent on duty. Right now I can probably talk these nice folks out of pressing charges for all the civil rights violations and the set up here, which does count as an act of terrorism by the way, even if you hadn't planned this on purpose to try and make it look like you were “cruelly attacked while minding your own business” it would still be ten years in prison just for taking part in something like this.” Denis pointed at the crowd behind them.
“So, you and your buddies saw an opportunity to jump poor Tobin here, a great guy by the way, I do suggest you buy his album when it comes out, not just illegally download it, and then you all tried to scare IPB agents into defending themselves from attack to make them look bad in order to frighten the populous into hating Infected.” Denis winced, an overdone thing for affect.
“That's pretty much terrorism alright, as sure as if you and your friends here set a bomb off... More so, because this situation took place at an airport, meaning the transit laws are in effect too. So here's the deal.” Denis pitched his voice for the whole crowd. Yeah, he sounded like a douche bag cop suddenly, but it couldn't be helped he decided. He let his voice go low and tried to pretend he was Proxy for a minute. It did sound mean.
“Disperse now without creating further problems, unless you're one of the ring leaders here. Anyone still gathered here in thirty seconds will be taken in for questioning, and trust me, we have people that can and will read your minds to get at the bottom of a terrorist organization. You,” he pointed at the angry bigot man in his businessman's suit and red and black striped republican power tie and the forty-something women with their little dog.
“You three need to stay. Your little dog too. We need your names and addresses and there will be an investigation. I wasn't kidding about terrorism charges. Again, I'll try to work on these people, but if you don't want the hassle of prison, and you don't, just trust me on that one, I suggest you start acting like something other than terrorists.” His voice sounded confident and even friendly as he ended his little speech, but Denis tried to convey how very much he really meant it by squaring off his body.
The other people left at least, moving quickly after the first couple of folks walked away, except the clerk who still looked very scared and didn't know if she had to leave or not.
“Um, I have to stay, I think, but I'm not a terrorist, I just work here... I can't afford to lose my job.”
“Don't worry, we're not unreasonable miss.” Lancaster said smoothly. “No one wants to blame an innocent person, or even,” he gestured to the three people left remaining, clearly noticing that the cameras had come out at a distance, his voice fairly boomed.
“Punish people for being afraid. There have been organized hate group attacks in the last days however, and this might not be happenstance. If not, then it really is an act of terrorism you tried to perpetrate here today, not just a poor exercise of the first amendment. The attack on Agent Turner made this far more serious, but luckily for you three, Agent Tompkins seems to think you're all just trying to exercise your first amendment rights... and made a mistake, not trying to actually start a war. I'm not entirely convinced of that myself, but you have a shot if you cooperate now. Another event like that, striking an agent to foment a riot and you'd all be going away for a very long time.” The tall black clad man suddenly seemed very serious, as if this really were a lot more than some bigots being shut down.
Pulling a pad and pen the agent took down the names and license information from all of them. The man at least tried to give a fake name first, the women didn't after the big agent asked for ID. They all had it, or they couldn't fly.
It took about fifteen minutes, so patting first Tobin then Clark on the shoulders, he led them all through the food line. When they got to the cashier Denis smiled again and looked over at Marcia, her butt hugged nicely in the black skin tight shorts she apparently wore as underwear, just for occasions like this. It worked for her. She looked like a soccer mom at a weekend picnic, sure, but a hot soccer mom.
“So, you don't have anything against Agent Tobin here, do you? Really, you should take a good look... Kind of adorable really, isn't he? Eh? He really is going to be famous too...” Winking Denis tilted his head as if trying to set Tobin up on a date with the girl. She blushed a little and smiled at the little man, then rang them up just as Karen and Jay came over, both moving slowly, due to the man's injury and her compassion for his pain.
Good, because Denis didn't have any money anyway, so one of them could pay. The salary of the people on team one being huge compared to the absolutely nothing he made at the moment. Slavery. It beat prison. Slightly. At least there the guards hadn't attacked him for being Infected.
It turned out to be Marcia who paid for all of them, holding a credit card that got paid for by the Director himself. Sweet deal. Denis ran back and got an extra dish of coleslaw. Another piece of cake too. Not that he needed to eat it...
But it was free stuff. He could give it to Jay, since the guy needed to eat more and Denis wanted the man to heal as fast as possible. Shrugging he went back and loaded a second tray just for that. Argos really did need the food and the man had taken a full tray, but not nearly what he should have, probably because of his first mode.
Marcia grinned, but no one else said anything about it, probably just assuming hunger to be the reason for his actions. That worked too, suddenly Denis felt it again. He'd blocked it all out for the mini-riot-event they'd just had. Well, it made for good practice against the norms at least. Denis noted that none of them thought to turn a fire hose on them or managed to pants anyone at all.
Beatdown, Quartz he remembered, pushed her short brown curls to the side and gave him a look. It was... slightly amused really.
“Not bad. I personally was going to bitch slap them all into next week, but your way worked too. Didn't know you were that up on the law though.” She leaned toward him so that her voice couldn't be heard. “About time we started calling things like this what it is. Terrorism plain and simple.”
Denis snorted and touched her shoulder gently, leaning in as if he might kiss her, which would have been temping except for all the cameras still on them and the fact that he'd probably wake up in the hospital minus a few parts he might want to use again someday. Lips being only one set of things that popped to mind.
“Honestly? I just made all that bull crap up. Sounded pretty real though, didn't it?”
Marcia laughed.
5
Thankfully the rest of the trip didn't cause nearly as many ripples. Tobin got stares on the plane, of course, a few of them a lot more hostile than a small guy wearing overalls with a Disney shirt on underneath should have gotten by far. Marcia had gotten it to replace the one used to wrap Argos' ankle earlier. That Tobin had to be the least offensive person on the plane to Chicago didn't seem to matter to about half the people. Glares and hard stares, scared looks and a few muttered comments were all directed his way for the first half of the trip. The black and green man tried to sink into his seat and hide his face behind a well-used copy of “Sky Mall”. It really didn't work that well for him. Everyone already knew where the “threat” was.
Denis sat next to him, and felt really tempted to point out to people that Infected didn't always mean dangerous. After all, Lancaster got to carry a gun onto the plane, didn't he? As a Federal agent it wasn't just allowed, but required by law now. Guns were dangerous and an IPB agent like him knew how to use it. Technically the only reason that the rest of them didn't have to carry had to do with their powers. Not that saying any of that would have helped Tobin.
The ass-holes on the plane didn't care about their poor behavior or how it made anyone else feel. They just reacted. The whole pattern seemed familiar to him now. At least no one here wanted to slap Marcia around to make themselves feel better. That... might not go as well the second time. She didn't feel pain or take
injury, but an insult was an insult and of all the people on the plane she was the last one that Denis would want to push that way. Even Lancaster would probably take more crap if it came down to it.
After the five hours in the air, they finally got to O'Hare and not having luggage, all they needed to do was find the car rental place. It was near the baggage claim, which just reminded him to find the assassin pilot and kick him in the jewels if he got a chance. That and to learn to at least land a plane. His feet scuffed a little on the short pile gray carpet underfoot as they got to the needed counter, a large plastic coated thing in a color that should have been red, but looked a lot more orange under the fake interior lighting of the huge building. The man there helpfully stared at Tobin, wrinkled his nose in disgust and gave them what had to be the single oldest and crappiest car in their inventory, a red econobox that had seating for five, if they were cozy.
Marcia grimaced.
“We're on a budget. Sorry about this guys. We would have been picked up by local here, except we're a bit behind schedule. Everyone cram in.”
In charge or not, Marsh didn't drive them, she had a license, but it had lapsed since she never used it and couldn't be bothered to keep up with the paperwork. Karen didn't even have one and while Clark did, no one trusted him to drive. Tobin just laughed when asked. He wouldn't even be able to touch the pedals after all. In the end it came down to Denis and Lancaster, the large man opting to ride shotgun, in a literal fashion, since shooting Hooper supporters would play better in the press than using abilities on them they all agreed. It was a good enough point that he wondered if the rest of them really should have brought guns too. No one wanted to go around shooting people, but it did give them another option and if it was down to using a power and starting a riot or shooting a single person and stopping one...
Denis had a license, and even had it on him, but the truth was that he hadn't driven in years. It came back quickly enough once behind the wheel of the tiny car, everyone else jammed in a lot closer than anyone would have wanted. Argos had Marcia on his lap and Tobin sat on Karen's, with Clark, obviously too big to have any part in a vehicle this small, at nearly six-six, crammed hunched and uncomfortable between the two sets of people. It took an hour to find the motel, a place so run down that they all thought it might be abandoned as they drove by it the first three times, circling to look for the address. There didn't seem to be a sign even, just an old plastic letter board that said “cheap rooms”. There wasn't a light behind it so it was hard to see, the street lamps down the way being all that told them it might be the right place at all.
They got two rooms. For seven people. That meant five guys had to share a room while Karen and Marcia got decent accommodations. More to the point, they all got crappy rooms, the girls getting a bug infested bed each, rather than having to share. All things considered it didn't seem like so big a perk to Denis. Clark complained the whole time and Argos took a place on the floor, pulling a suspiciously stained looking seat cushion off the old and broken down plaid sofa to use as a pillow.
Lancaster did something similar, which meant that only three people had to share two twin beds. After a few minutes of looking around shiftily, Tobin asked Denis if they could share. Of course he wanted his own bed, but that wouldn't change if he had it, so shrugging, he agreed. Why not? At least the guy wouldn't take up the whole thing. Besides, in the chain of command Tobin clearly outranked him and could have just told him to sleep on the floor.
Really Jay and Lancaster probably should have had the beds, but Lancaster was stepping up, being in charge and Jay was just that humble. He really figured he should be the one on the floor.
Tobin gave him a guilty look as he explained. Eyes going to the floor as he whispered.
“I'm sure Clark's really alright, but I've heard stuff and... I kind of look a bit childlike. Small and skinny, so, I don't want him to get confused in the night.” He sounded very contrite when he said it.
The line forced Denis to leave the room for a bit, trying not to scream with laughter. A valid enough point, if a little over the top, since Clark had only slept with the one under aged girl, and not gone after boys at all. Tobin probably had that info too. Then again, Denis wouldn't have liked risking it either, come to think of it. The tall stork like man just felt creepy at times. Off.
Wrong.
Everyone decided that sleep would be the first order, being nearly six in the morning when they got into the rooms. They needed to get up by noon to get out and survey the expected hate rally routes and meeting places, that kind of thing. Denis felt his eyes close finally, and barely noticed the depression made by Tobin's tiny weight on the rather wrinkled sheet next to him.
The knock that came had a stern pounding cadence that made them all wonder if they were being rousted by the police. Instead it turned out to be Marcia and Karen with three dozen donuts and masses of coffee balanced in little cardboard drink carriers. Marcia had been kicking the door, hence it being so loud. The java was horrible and bitter. Really honestly awful too, not just “coffee snob” bad, the stuff had caffeine and that was about the only selling point as far as he could tell. It worked with the pure sugar and fat they'd brought at least, Denis decided as he took a plain cake donut and dunked it into the swill.
The variety was there in the boxes and even the quality, what the place lacked in coffee they made up for in their prime sales item it looked like. Denis just didn't like fried food overly. It was a personal thing so he didn't complain about it. It just always left him feeling a little ill for some reason and he needed to be sharp for work. He preferred meat, if he could get it. Bacon and eggs, over waffles or toast, that kind of thing. The girls had grabbed what they could and everyone else seemed happy enough. Jay had a whole box sitting on his lap, obviously slowing down so that he wouldn't finish before everyone else had their first one.
“Thank you.” Tobin said around a raspberry filled glazed thing that looked both good and disgusting at the same time.
That got Denis to nod. Manners. That had been in at least one of those books he'd read, right? The one with the lady that kept writing about how horrible everyone's manners were. That was it. Of course her being a grumpy old bag didn't mean that she couldn't have a point, did it?
“Yes, thank you both for thinking of us. I appreciate it.” Denis spoke after taking a bite of the donut in his hand, but waited until he'd swallowed first.
That got a smile from Karen as if him being halfway human seemed special. A bit bitchy of her to think really. Or it would have been, if it hadn't been true. Denis tried not to react at all. If you couldn't get along with Karen Young it was time to put a bullet in your brain-pan.
Then all he had to do involved sitting and waiting for Marcia and Lancaster to come up with a basic plan which took about an hour, then go and walk the whole potential riot area with them. That part turned out to be a lot more fascinating than he'd figured it to be. Not because Chicago held such wonder in and of itself.
It didn't.
Really the whole thing smelled a bit and seemed grimy in most places, like any old city would. It wasn't an evil place or anything either, just not the kind of place he'd want to live. Denis had lived in cities and knew too much about what really happened to like them anymore.
The team leader and the agent just viewed the world so differently than he did.
Pointing Marcia indicated three high rise buildings.
“If we can set Denis up in one of those it would give him a good visual on the crowd, as long as they stick to their routes. We can stay mobile though. I think that's the best first placement. Karen and Clark back a ways as our second line? Tobin in third with Jay.”
Lancaster nodded and promptly reminded her of the rules set out for them.
“We're supposed to have a presence at the site, to “calm” the crowd and help handle any difficulties that come up for the police. Are you sure sniping positions count as a presence?”
“Hell yes. We all know
this is a set up, but if Hooper tries to make an issue out of us doing our job correctly instead of starting a deadly riot, I'll find the guy and hand him a piece of his own liver. We're doing this smart or not at all. If I have to quit over this I will. Go start a farm or something. Raise chinchillas.” She grinned herself, earning a chuckle from the large man in his suit, one which looked awfully good considering no one had a razor or change of clothes.
Except him.
Jerk, Denis thought a bit sourly. Not that it would be his fault his luggage traveled with him in a single small bag or that no one had bailed on him while they were flying leaving all his worldly possessions to go down in a ball of fire somewhere. If the pilot had tried it, Lancaster would have just landed the plane. Sigh.
The first two thirds of the event, the whole hate riot thing, turned out to be a disappointment, that or an incredible triumph, depending on who you asked. The one time a scuffle broke out Denis saw it and just caused all the people in the area to feel really calm and peaceful suddenly. Everyone in the area just walked away then. Later, when a brick got chucked at the police line it veered suddenly and landed to the side in a way that no one seemed to notice except him, sitting off nearly a half mile away. Clark? Probably. That or some other Infected was working to make sure nothing too bad happened that day. If so, Denis could accept that. They could use any help they could get.
That's all they did for the entire day. Just made sure that no one got too anxious or hurt anyone severely and, something nearly as important in the end, Denis made sure the police didn't start attacking people either. The cops sent in a young man, one with a black cloth over his face and standard issue boots to throw some debris harmlessly at their “control line”, to give them an excuse to use force. For a half second Denis felt like just letting them do it, not really liking either side overly at the moment. All of them were probably bigots anyway. Sighing he calmed everyone so much that the whole crowd started to just mill and murmur. The police held their position, but didn't keep tapping the sides of their shields to provoke and intimidate the crowd.