The new 'Hideout' in vegas was a vast departure from the old one. What had once been some wealthy nutjob's cold-war era bunker, meant to protect him from fallout in the event of world war three, had been expanded, escape tunnels dug out; and the most exclusive nightclub in Nevada built there. Only guests of Nicky were allowed in; and none of them even knew precisely where; only Soldiers in the family or above were allowed to pull the drive, and the limos were blacked out; none but the driver could see out.
Eyeball, of course, was one of those allowed to make the drive; and of course, unlike most of the others, he knew that the bunker was just a quarter-mile from a limo company owned by the Don; the regular chauffeurs deliberately kept unaware of just how many people worked there, or of the extra stops being made on the way.
This time, of course, he was riding along with Nicky, Penelope, and Cobalt; the limo pulling to a stop in an underground garage, and one of Nicky's guards stepping up to open the door; nodding as the passengers emerged, one by one.
The guard kept an eye on Cobalt; he seemed to trust the other two with his boss, but had never met the blue-fleshed mutant before.
Nicky sighed, and stepped out of the garage; a row of half a dozen limos were parked inside, all waiting to ferry the villains and family inside to wherever they needed to go. And inside... the place was crowded.
The news was showing reports of government plans, temporary alliances; of every nation on earth gearing up for war. Nukes being readied, metahumans being drafted into service, criminals being released from prison, given shortened sentences, in exchange for taking up arms. There was even a call for the 'Gods' to intervene, addressing Zeus and Odin by name; though none of them had intervened on behalf of any mortal power aside from giving advice since the United States had used nuclear weapons in Japan; with the notable exception of Hephaestus working with every space agency that was willing to ask for aid on the work of building up humanity's presence offworld.
The crowd... was huge. There were dozens of booths, two bars, tables; the main area divided fairly well into a more fancy dining area to one side, and the more rustic, diner sort of look on the other; with the two bars in between, facing out. And every seat was full, aside from a single table, reserved for Nicky himself; and his guests.
Eyeball had never seen so many villains before; there were obvious cartel members, numerous one-off villains who ran solo, a few gadget-based villains... technically he was one, as nobody knew what his power was... some of the people inside were truly vast in power; high-end class-B or even low-end Class-A metas he'd seen on the news at time.
And... he attracted every eye as he stepped in. Over his relatively brief career, everyone in the room had heard about him, seen him on the news. The man that killed a Titan; and beat the hell out of another so badly he was afraid of flying. Most of them continued talking as they watched him pass, though a few stopped to study him.
When he arrived at the table and sat down, Nicky slid Penelope's chair out; and pushed it in after, before sitting down himself; and Cobalt filled the last seat. The table wasn't just a simple round table, covered in white cloth; a sophisticated computer system was built into the middle.
Nicky tapped on a button in the center of the table. The TVs in the room all shifted; showing his face. Some looked at the nearest TV; some looked at Nicky himself. He cleared his throat.
"Some of you are part of the Family. Some of you are simply associates. I've made my safe-houses, fences, and suppliers available to all of you so long as you kept to the code of silence; and made sure your fellow villains did as well. The Family has branches on every continent, and we work to make things better for each generation that comes after us. This means that while we are perfectly fine with supporting villains who rob, cheat, steal and murder... so long as they aren't targeting the family... we don't put up with the sort of nutjobs that aim to bring down civilization. Mass-murderers, lunatics. This... Machine. This 'Dark Ascension'."
Nicky looked around the room, then turned back to the camera. "We had cousins in Mexico; fairly limited thanks to the presence of the Cartels. But both our cousins and the Cartels are gone now. Wiped out entirely... the survivors being puppeted around by machines buried in their flesh. The family has come together and reached an agreement. For the duration of this crisis, while speaking with the feds about any criminal activity will still merit your untimely demise... Cooperating with them in terms of assisting in destroying machines isn't simply allowed... but encouraged."
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
He glowered at the camera. "These things killed my cousins. They hurt my daughter. The family has pooled its excess funding and put out a bounty. One thousand dollars for each of the Pale Ones. Ten thousand for each of the machines. Bring back either the crushed controller of a Pale One, or the head of one of the other machines for payment. If the feds choose to award you something for destroying them, you can feel free to get paid by them as well, so long as you provide evidence of their destruction."
He glanced across the table. "Eyeball.. the Titanslayer... just returned from Mexico. He destroyed a fair number of Pale Ones, as well as the machines, retrieving my daughter from them. He will, of course, be paid an additional bounty for that service."
Eyeball nodded for a moment... and then gestured at the camera. Nicky tilted his head... and spun it around. "These things are dangerous. Extremely so. At close to medium range, their accuracy is essentially perfect. One of my companions was struck in his armored helmet repeatedly before he destroyed the ones firing at him; every shot they fired either hit, bullseye, center of mass, or in the head. Unless you can dodge bullets, or survive getting shot in the face repeatedly, I would recommend forming a team with someone who can and splitting the bounties among you. EMP grenades work excellently on the Pale Ones; they drop instantly. On the machines themselves, they just stun them."
He inhaled deeply. "Personally... if the machines cross the border, I plan to be right there, destroying every one that I can. And if I can make a little profit doing it... well. All the better."
***
Far south of the border, in what was once an auto manufacturer outside of Saltillo, a group of Machines and Pale Ones were carefully, with perfect coordination, moving slabs of armor into place, piece by piece. The internal skeleton was almost centaurish; a vaguely humanoid torso atop four legs; on a machine that would be thirty feet tall once the armor was added on; a massive engine of death that would stalk the battlefield, obliterating tank and infantry alike.
Further down the line... another skeleton, partially assembled. And another.
On another assembly line, one that seemed to be running much more slowly; the first construction was still in its skeletal stage; a dark red mass that appeared much like a pair of Predator drones merged together was starting to take shape; the first of what would become the Machine's air force.
With each passing hour, the legions of the machines would grow in numbers and strength; at what point would they be too vast for it to even be possible to defeat them?
***
"So you're saying Operation Tequila can't work?" Kennedy had already looked stressed before Bates had arrived. His grey hair was unkempt, and one of his aides was trying to straighten it out before he stepped out on stage. "What... what the hell kind of hope do we have then?"
Bates grimaced. "Well, sir. Frankly, if they're EMP-resistant, and there are likely at least some hidden in the wilderness of the US... we're still working on it. We're going to deploy every soldier, every tank, every aircraft we can, and start moving in the moment you give the go-ahead. Chinese forces are on the way to provide backup, our NATO allies as well, even the Russians and the Japanese are getting involved. We... don't know if that will be enough. If the machine doesn't have heavy armor units of its own, it might be. If it does... frankly sir, I think divine intervention might be our only hope."
"Odin already answered my call. He told me this wasn't Ragnarok, and his Valkyries would watch over the gathered armies to gather the fallen for that day.... we should expect to see some of them, at least, for whatever good it does us." The president sighed. His aide had his hair straightened up, and was gently patting the sweat away from his forehead; working to get him looking more presentable. "Zeus is still ignoring us. He hasn't spoken to anyone from the US government since Hiroshima."
Bates shook his head. "All these so-called gods, just going to stand back and let humanity be conquered by robots because of their archaic principles. I wish I had better news, mister President. We'll be ready to launch the first assault when the Chinese arrive. It'll be a two-pronged attack; we'll be moving down from the northern border along with any allies that have arrived by then, and they'll be moving up from Panama. If you give the go-ahead, we can launch in 24 hours."
"Any estimate on civilian casualties?"
"To have even a chance in hell of working, we'll need to sweep every concentration of machines with airstrikes we can before we go in. The machines are embedded in every major city in Mexico, and within two days every small town will be taken as well. Its impossible to say, sir. If we worry too much about preserving civilians... there might not be a country left to save when this is over."