The one fringe benefit of Laguna Salada being one of the prime starting points for the illegal drugs being shipped into the US was location; it was extremely close to the US border, in fact, not only was the border within hiking distance, but there was an airport not an hour's drive away; where Eyeball's plane currently waited.

Granted, as the old farming truck went offroad, cruising for the border... there were soldiers waiting on the other side. American soldiers. With guns. Eyeball grimaced as he drove, and pulled his helmet; the one distinctive part of his villain 'uniform'; free, wedging it under the seat... a spot occupied by a small chicken cage just minutes ago. He turned to Penelope; not the most injured one in the truck, but the target, so she got the most comfortable seat... such as it were.. instead of being piled in the hay.

"There's a can of oil down there. I want you to smear it on my face, hair, while I drive. Make me look like hell."

She looked him over for a moment. "I like the new armor. Honestly, you were a bit scary back there. Almost as fast as me, for a second. I liked it." She started pressing up against his side as she smeared some of the dirty oil into his hair; and right down the side of his face.

He shook his head; he could see her fairly well, all things considered; if he let his mind wander to what she'd look like without those clothes, it would show him with exact detail, so he needed to keep his mind set. And even hurt, a bit bloody, disheveled, she looked good. To be honest, he liked that look better than the clean, pressed look, but, well. Everyone's different.

"Alright, that's enough." When she continued to press against him, he gently slid her back on the bench to the other side with one hand at her hip. "We're there."

As they approached the border, a drone flew overhead; just barely on the US side; clearly tracking their every movement; and with a rack of missiles attached to the bottom; missiles that, Eyeball knew full well, could easily take out his truck, and hopefully a whole squad of those machines.

He could see trails of dust approaching the border... and a watchtower. Clearly prefabricated, and of relatively new construction.. brand new, in fact. He hadn't seen this when he was taking out the cartel. The ride was distinctly unpleasant; bumpy to an extreme; but the old truck handled it perfectly. A series of yellow flags had been planted in the ground marking the borderline... also recent... and Eyeball pulled to a stop before it.

He stepped out of the truck, and raised his hands, as he walked forward; and stopped at the border-line. A humvee pulled to a stop not ten meters away, and a group of soldiers; classic, Army troops, not border security or national guard. He might have worked with some of these boys. Good lord, was he that young when he started? He could see a sniper rifle in the watch-tower.. two, actually. One centered on him, one on the truck. Missile launchers, grenade launchers...

That watch-tower had clear line of sight for miles.. and he could actually see more towers, at least one, in each direction. They could spot anything coming in across the border from here... good lord, this had to have thousands of people working on it. They must have cancelled overseas operations and pulled people home.

After a few minutes, one of the soldiers approached. Surprisingly enough, a Colonel; what the hell one of those was doing out in the middle of nowhere was a mystery. He had to stop himself from saluting as the man approached; just a year ago if they'd met... well. He'd probably be yelling at a private who'd done yet another dumbass stunt.

"Hello there, Colonel... Reeves. I'm a mercenary, former army, and would prefer to remain unidentified if possible. You can feel free to search the truck, but my primary cargo is an american citizen whose father asked me to retrieve her when all this went down. I've also got six of the machines in various states of disrepair and fifteen surviving mexican police and civilians who were Pale Ones when I met em, I hit with an EMP to kill the little control box."

The Colonel; a tall, fit, powerful-looking man whose unblemished black skin, perfect mustache, and general attitude made him look like hollywood had cast him in the role 'Elite Military Commander who intimidates people'; glared at him, then the truck. "I'm going to need you to turn over your weapons and surrender to our custody. Nobody is getting across this border right now without authorization into anything but a cell."

Eyeball gave a long, exasperated sigh. He could wipe these people out, but he didn't want to kill soldiers. He could back off and find another way into mexico, but all these former Pale Ones would die if he didn't get them treated fairly quickly. He glanced back at the truck for a moment. Butcher was standing up in the back of the truck, looking around at all of the soldiers, the weapons, completely unconcerned about the sniper currently watching him.

Ahh.

"So.. Reeves. Did your orders say anything about what to do if any of Valkyrie's associates showed up?"

Reeves look suddenly changed. It was a sort of grim anger at first... clearly an attempt to intimidate. But the mention of Valkyrie made him switch mental gears. Confusion. More irritation rather than anger. "... That the Pentagon was attempting to enlist the aid of Valkyrie, and was offering pardons for her and her metahuman associates in exchange for meaningful assistance against the machines. I hadn't heard that had gone through, but... we were told not to interfere with them unless they were attacking us or interfering with our own operations."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Eyeball nodded. "So here's the deal. I'm one of those associates of the more temporary sort. That giant slab of meat in the back of the truck waving at your snipers? He's a permanent associate of hers. If you stop me and arrest me, she'll shrug, and it might stop her from making the deal, but she won't be too angry. If you screw with him, and he isn't currently committing some crime, but actually doing what we were doing just now, and destroying machines for you? She'll be pissed. Honestly speaking, if you call her up, she'll be pissed at me as well for bothering to try to save these people and wanting to just give you the parts rather than sell them to you."

The colonel took a step forward; foot right beside one of the yellow flags they'd planted at the border. He looked at the truck; then down at Eyeball. ".... That's her bloody son, isn't it. The Butcher." He shook his head. "Fuck. Alright. Unload the people and get the hell out."

Eyeball stared at the man for a moment.. he wasn't aware the government even knew Valkyrie had a son, he was going to pass Butch off as one of her men... and then nodded. He turned back to the truck. "Cobalt! Pull the truck up! We need to get these people unloaded."

He turned back to Reeves. "I've got a video I want you to give your bosses. I've got custom-built EMP grenades; about 50% stronger than the kind that I was issued in the field. If I don't throw em hard enough, I'll fry my own gear as well. These machines went through that; and got right back up and kept fighting. I'll give you one of my grenades, and the video, so your people can get a good idea of how they work, and what they're dealing with."

Reeves nodded slowly. "Thats.... thats some damn important information. Fifty percent stronger? I heard those things were pretty damn well designed. How do you get that?"

"Spend three times as much per grenade, and keep em overcharging in a dock when I don't use em. I can just throw it at a wall and set it off without pulling the pin, which is less than ideal. But.... it works on hardened military gear. And it didn't work on the machines; not for good, at least. Just the Pale Ones."

***

Hours later, Butcher carried Penelope up the stairs onto the plane; after she faked a collapse to try to convince Eyeball to do so. She glared daggers at him for the rest of the flight to Vegas, alternating between that and staring out the window eating a sandwich... she was on her tenth by the time the plane landed. She didn't even need those boys to rescue her! She had it under control. Just give her some food, a few hours...

She tried to pull to her feet when the plane landed... only to stumble and flush when Butch... the teenager the size of a truck... caught her. He was also blushing, which was a bit endearing. If he were, well. An adult, he'd be her type, but as it was, it helped ease the rejection from Eyeball a touch.

Still wearing her worn, ragged suit, torn in numerous patches by the brief moment of super-speed she'd used to fight the machines.. and whatever grenade it had used to take her out... she let Butch support her down the stairs... and saw her father. Well. Adoptive father. No... fuck that. Her father. Waiting for her beside a limo.

She gave a grin that turned into a grimace when her leg spasmed. "Ahh... Sorry, daddy, negotiations didn't work out. They're all dead or hospitalized. Not my fault this time, though."

Nicky stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, squeezing painfully tight. "Damnit, sweetheart. I know I gotta let go, let you take some risks if I want you to grow, take over for me someday. But I don't know how many more of these I can take before my heart gives out. You mind not getting taken out by any killer robots for the next, say... ten years?"

She started to give a snarky retort... but could see the tears running down his cheeks, so she simply hugged him back, ignoring the pain as best she could for now. "Love you too, daddy."

Eyeball stayed on the plane; not wanting to intervene in the father-daughter moment until he was called. He was sure it would happen soon, but... best give them some privacy.

***

In a small office, over a thousand miles away, a technician was leaning over his computer, replaying a short video clip, while a general in a dark green dress uniform uniform stood over his shoulder, looming. The army officer had been called over, informed it was urgent and he needed to speak to the highest-ranking official available immediately, the president if possible... by some junior intel analyst that should have known better.

General Bates gripped his shoulder firmly. "Alright, Jenkins. Tell me what you've risked your career by jumping all the way up to me on. There's a protocol for this."

Jenkins... a pale, thin, nervous-looking man, visibly sweat dripping from his glasses and chin, looked up at Bates. "Sir... The machines are EMP-resistant. Extremely so, more than any actual, active, electronic device should be. Operation Tequila won't work. It'll clear out all the Pale Ones... but the machines themselves..."

Bates stared at Jenkins for a moment. Then looked at his screens. One of them showed images, clearly from the field, of a partially disassembled machine; one of the same red bots with the Hammer and Sickle logo from the news out of mexico. The other showed a video of one being directly struck by a grenade; the grenade emitting a distinctive 'pop' sound familiar to anyone that had used an EMP grenade; and after a momentary pause, continuing to move.

"...How?"

"The entire incident isn't on video; apparently they hit it with an EMP by throwing it over a wall first, so what we're seeing is its response to a second EMP. The first didn't stop it; but it did make it stumble, and fight less effectively until whoever was fighting it blew it up. The next EMP did the same thing. I've got two theories. Either the soviets had some insane non-electronic means of controlling it... something organic maybe? These could, in theory, be androids. Or it has multiple backup controllers, and if one gets fried, the next hooks up... and is temporarily at reduced effectiveness as it boots up."

The general watched the video play in a loop for a few minutes. Looked at the notes under the broken machine. Nodded. "You did good, Jenkins. Get me everything you've got on this. Let me know who or what you need, and look over the machine in person. I... need to go brief the president." Mentally, he added one last thought..

That he wasn't sure this was a war they'd be able to win, now.