Thanks mostly to Raid, the incursion was going smoothly. There was a steadily growing collection of Pale Ones, the Engineer using them to help load children into the boat; with even some of the local nurses and abducted women volunteering to help; it seemed that some of the employees weren't too fond of the job and were mostly concerned about threats to themselves and their family should they fail; the idea of rescuing some of the women and escaping, likely presumed dead, was appealing. The Engineer determined that, based on his history, Eyeball would likely assist the nurses, and approve of the rescue.
The boat's cargo holds had dozens of children loaded in already; mostly in the same clear plastic cribs that had been used inside the facility. The crew of the boat; none of whom had any idea what was going on; looked on in confusion as women in surgical gowns comforted a teeming mass of infants and toddlers, while themselves looking around in confusion at their surroundings; a boat that had been meant, until a few minutes ago, to be loading up crates of fragile electronics at this very port. A few of the crates were already aboard; but the ship-owner had been offered twice the boat's value to get here now; and so, here they were, watching, helping to secure seating and cribs for the voyage out.
Even more confusing was the mob of people standing on the docks; and the complete silence of the children. The women were wearing headphones, and seemed to be out of the trance that afflicted the growing mob on the docks, but the children.. possibly thankfully.. were still under.
The Engineer stepped outside, following the most recent batch of children being moved out; and saw something... concerning. Four men in dark green Chinese military uniforms seemed to suddenly appear from nowhere, not a hundred meters from the boat... and just start walking forward to join the crowd, clearly in a trance. He assessed their appearance, the video leading up to it. They... were metahumans. Speedsters. They'd been investigating the situation at superhuman speed, fallen into the trance, and joined the crowd.
And if they were here, a full-fledged army response wasn't far behind. Radar picked up incoming aircraft; attack helicopters. At least seven of them, but they were close enough together that there might be more. He nodded, and issued a command; all of the Pale Ones who were en route to acquiring the children stopped; and simply turned, wherever they were, walking out of the facility. While the ones currently carrying something continued, the rest of the former staff and security personnel moved out; lifting whatever weapons they happened to be carrying; essentially launched as drones, ordered to attack any hostile vehicles or people they encountered.
Knowing that, even if turned into Pale Ones, the speedsters wouldn't be able to use their powers at command; their own reflexes were faster than those of their controllers; he walked towards them; and as the sounds of gunfire aimed at the incoming soldiers and helicopters could be heard, calmly, precisely executed each of the four metahumans, one by one; simple slitting their throats and letting their bodies fall at the edge of the crowd.
"This is the Engineer. We've got all that we can. If you can hear this, get onboard. I can see a few of our volunteers with headsets still in the building; hurry. I'll give you seventy seconds. Military forces have arrived, and Raid's music can't do anything to the men in the vehicles."
A chorus of objections from the volunteers arose; about the number of children left behind, about how long it would take to get out of the facility. The response was simple; "Now at sixty seconds. Raid, we're going to be leaving shortly. If there's an eleven you can turn it to, get on it for the next minute. I'd appreciate if you could keep it up until we're a bit out on the water."
The Engineer turned, walking towards the boat himself; casually hopping from the dock onto the ship itself before turning to watch the panicked run of the volunteers helping to carry the children; and Granite carrying what appeared to be a massive, squirming tarp. The Engineer looked at it for a moment. This... Some of those children would be injured, or even killed. He had literally dumped dozens or even hundreds of them into essentially a giant sack to carry them out.
"Got the last of them, boss. Not the most cozy way to go, but better than whats coming."
As Granite gently settled the tarp onto the deck; and dozens of women and mercenaries stepped into action, moving the tranced children out of the pile; the boat suddenly jerked; starting to move away from the docks.
The Engineer rapidly stepped forward; catching two toddlers who almost went over the side, and blocking a few more. Raid had switched from his own personal heavy-metal ballads to Queen; and out in the city, helicopters were turning, shifting, firing on various ground targets; dozens of Pale Ones had already engaged, and the military was reacting to the threat as expected.
He turned to Granite, as one of the young women took hold of the two toddlers, and Stretch aimed the HMG into the air; one of the choppers was flying towards the boat, ignoring the small-arms fire peppering it from below. He held down the trigger for a few seconds; the 20mm rounds at first missing, then sweeping across the lightly armored craft; a few rounds penetrating the glass, the engine, the co-pilot; leaving the pilot desperately struggling for control as the craft abruptly lost altitude, the tail-rotor smacking into a nearby building with a sickening crunch; and sending the vehicle into an out-of-control spin as it skipped off of another rooftop and crashed into the water.
With each passing moment, the boat pulled further away from the docks. He could hear messages being exchanged by the Chinese navy; they would be waiting to intercept him, out on the ocean; likely wanting to avoid killing his precious cargo, they would block his path and bring in dedicated strike teams, since they probably had access to video of them pulling hundreds of metahuman children out of the facility; the future of the Chinese metahuman forces.
He had dossiers on the Chinese military's best strike teams; some of them could singlehandedly handle everything he'd brought; but the only ones that could reach him without a plane or boat would be more vulnerable. Granted... the only ones he was aware of. Not even Ascension's intelligence was complete.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Soon, they'd be running into the Chinese navy; and he'd be putting on his little performance that would help him advance his own goals alongside Eyeball's.
***
Butcher raised his blade up in the air; looking like nothing so much as a red-black armored giant standing amidst the rubble scattered across the street. He could see two tanks settling into position, aiming at him, soldiers taking cover behind parked cars, concrete dividers, anything nearby; and suddenly he felt... a sharp impact against his left arm. Not enough to really hurt; but enough to notice. Moments later, he heard a massive shockwave; a sonic boom. Someone had just run past him so fast it broke the sound barrier, and tossed a rock at him while running.
He frowned, glancing down at his shoulder.. took a deep breath, looking at the closest tank.. and stomped down as hard as he could, leaping towards the vehicle. The street ruptured beneath him, and he caught a momentary glimpse of a green-armored figure briefly becoming visible tumbling across the rubble before slamming into a wall, before he was suddenly at the tank; grabbing the barrel, giving a solid yank that tore the turret off of the vehicle; and hurling it at the other tank, which had already started to fire.
The first shell hit him in the side; and unlike the thrown rock, this didn't just penetrate the armor, but broke the skin, leaving a nasty, painful chunk of metal that didn't quite pierce the muscles to hit his ribcage. The second shell instead hit the incoming turret; bending the tank's own gun as it was briefly rocked in place.
Butcher hopped off of the tank; bullets starting to ricochet off of his armor, scattering in all directions; he could feel that the enemy were focusing fire on the visible injury from the tank shell; the insignificant impacts actually hurt a bit when they struck that area; and grabbed the front of the tank; flipping it up and over, crushing a nearby group of soldiers.
He moved like a force of nature; casually tossing aside cover, hurling cars at the hovering aircraft; getting to watch two of them scatter across the rooftops for his trouble, while the third kept far enough away that his two attempts both missed. The soldiers had stopped standing their ground; now backing away, or running, still making shots, throwing grenades; clearly outclassed, but definitely brave.
And clearly ordered to delay him long enough for backup to arrive. One of the Chinese elite metahuman strike forces, designed specifically to kill high-powered metahumans, was visible, deploying on a rooftop a few hundred meters away, stepping out of a combat helicopter.
Butcher studied them for a moment, frowning. They all wore the same dark green body-armor, but one of them was massive, almost as big as he was; though alongside his companions, he gently floated from the rooftop to the street... and the four started to advance; only the most distant soldiers now firing potshots at him, the rest withdrawing into buildings or just sprinting away.
The one in the lead came to a stop; his armor was heavier than the others, and he was almost seven feet tall; still shorter than Butcher, but impressive enough. "Halt! You are ordered to surrender. This is your only chance."
He looked at the four of them. One had hands glowing faintly red-hot. Going to try to melt him? Of course. The one in the lead, obviously another tank, like himself. The other two... one was floating maybe an inch off the ground. Telekinetic. Not a bright one, either; the professionals would hide what they could do until it was time to end things, or just immediately toss the victim into the air. Not that it mattered, usually. For most tanks, just knowing a Telekinetic was on the other team was the end of the road. For Butcher? One of his best friends had anti-telekinetic countermeasures and had designed his current armor. He could take a ridiculous amount of heat, and wasn't sure any 'tank' on earth other than his mom could take him down. The only real threats were the Telekinetic and whoever the fourth one was; a woman, by the body shape, but invisible in the body-armor and helmet.
He crouched, holding the blade. She might be another Telekinetic. A smarter one. best bet was to take both of them out, fast. The TK countermeasure would only work for a fraction of a second at a time; he had a few of them. So he needed to time it just right.
The tall one raised his hand. "That was it. Take him."
Butcher leapt forward; squeezing the trigger of the TK countermeasure as he went. The man who was floating calmly lifted his hand; only to make a more frantic gesture during the brief moments before the massive blade tore through his shoulders, arms, and torso; and at the end of its sweep, embedded itself halfway through the unknown meta.
He could hear a distinct, feminine shriek of pain; as a brief jet of dark black-green acid splattered against his armor, sending it sizzling, before she collapsed to the ground. Butcher grimaced in pain; his armor was sort-of acid resistant; but not only was this a very potent acid, but his armor had a fist-sized hole in it. The pain was.. substantial, and he felt it rolling down his leg, as if he was on fire.
Then, of course, he genuinely was on fire. The meta with the glowing hands raised them; and he could feel some of the parts of his armor starting to melt. And, thankfully, the acid almost immediately boiled away, ending the agony of his leg. He shifted his angle for a moment, making sure the heat got every last drop, as the meta looked in confusion; and then back-handed the man in the face, sending him flying off to slam into a nearby wall.
He turned to face the final meta; the other tank. Cracked his neck and stepped forward. His opponent visibly hesitated for a moment... before swinging forward with all his might, landing a powerful blow on Butcher's gut; sending the armor cracking, and causing the glass in the nearby vehicles and buildings that had survived the earlier stomp to shatter and fall apart. If not for parts of it being partially molten at the moment, it probably would have shattered and gone flying. Butcher was forced back a few steps; the man leapt up, aiming to bring both hands down in a blow to his head; only for Butcher's sword to slam into the man's side while he was in midair; expecting him to either go flying as if struck by a bat, or to be cleanly cleaved in half.
It buried itself in the man's ribcage, trapped; Butcher could see that, while the blade itself was standing firm, quite a few of the bits on it... mostly decorative black and red metal spikes Eyeball had added because Butcher thought they looked cool... were twisted and distorted in shape, and became stuck in the man's bones as they cooled on contact with his blood.
Butcher grimaced, looking down at the man stuck to his blade; as he screamed out in pain; and drove his palm down, shattering the hilt, leaving Butcher holding a chunk of dense but useless metal. Somehow still up, moving, fighting despite having a molten blade merged with his ribcage, he stepped forward, trying to stomp on Butcher's foot, to punch him in the belly once more.
Butcher grabbed the broken remnants of his sword; shoved the man to the ground; then, with his foot planted on his chest, gave a firm yank; tearing both the blade and much of the man's torso away. The man still slammed his arm into Butcher's shin with surprising force... before finally going limp.
Butcher looked at the weird, disgusting lump of metal and flesh in his hands; and tossed it away, turning back to the building containing Eyeball. Hopefully that was all of the rapid response units, and the two might be able to get out now.