Jasmine stared at her computer, lost. Looking at the video recordings from the facilities she'd been tracking. General Zhou was dead. The women who'd been abducted as well; aside from some who were being assisted in finding homes in the southern US, in former Mexican territories. Granted; most of them had been effectively brain-dead before Jasmine even knew about them.

The assessments she could access all seemed to agree. These camps had been operating for at least a few years; producing a few hundred metahuman children the first year, likely thousands the second year, tens of thousands the third. If they'd been allowed to continue, China would have gained an unstoppable advantage; and on the back of horrific human suffering. They definitely would have thousands more than they should; if the country still existed when they grew up.

Her superiors had known about the missing women. That abductions in the Protectorate had been substantial, and nothing good could be happening to them; but the investigations were essentially cut off at the 'they were taken by Chinese nationals, likely to China and beyond' point. But now that they knew just what it was, and that it could be a long-term strategic problem, they were forming a task force to deal with it. Not because the women had been abducted, or any moral concern or issues with their safety; but rather because if some other country had this idea they could cause a major problem.

She'd been offered a position on that team. Not just a task force; a strike force. They would actually take action in other countries if need be, illegally. Exactly what Eyeball and company had done.

The only question was... should she take it? She frowned; and opened the dossier on her desk. She'd asked whether the Russos had been lying to her. They'd sent her... this. A file, code-named 'Ragnarok'; with a clip stuck in it to highlight a specific page. She'd been considering resigning when they offered it to her. She opened it to the marked page.

~As per reports from our Greek sources, the Jotun will be able to take over, temporarily, a single individual on earth. This ability is magical in nature, and bypasses any form of defenses; they do also have telepaths of their own who can take over others, but while there are quite a few of them, none reach the strength of our own more extreme examples. Any individuals who are able to single-handedly cause catastrophic damage to Earth's defenses will need to be relocated off-world until this ability has been expended; it is apparently only usable on an extremely lengthy cooldown of some sort.~

~Going forward, all foreign leaders will be advised to ensure no single person can launch or set off nuclear weapons. Any Titans with abilities that would allow them to singlehandedly cause catastrophic harm will be relocated or terminated if they refuse. This relocation will be purely temporary; once the Jotun have activated the device, they can freely return to assist in defeating the invasion.~

~Following the Moonfall incident, we have determined that Apollo was able to predict the death of both Chinese titans, and may have deliberately steered events in order to ensure their deaths; and seemed to be attempting to steer events to cause the death of operative Spike as well. There is speculation that the death of Lightning was also engineered by Apollo; Lightning being the single Titan capable of causing the greatest amount of damage possible while still leaving the earth eventually habitable to our invaders. The individual code-named 'Eyeball' is likely an unwitting pawn in a greater scheme to prepare for Ragnarok. This speculation is uncertain, as, despite earlier conflicts, Eyeball assisted in ensuring the survival of operative Spike, counter to Apollo's apparent design.~

~Initial complaints that Apollo must have also predicted the possibility of a Machine uprising and failed to inform us have led to the unfortunate revelation that Apollo warned our personnel but we failed to take appropriate action; or inaction, as apparently simply delaying our pursuit of 'Eyeball' a few minutes would have prevented the entire scenario; he was apparently in pursuit of the original machine, before it made copies, at the time of his capture.~

Jasmine stared at the dossier. There were numerous notes in it. Estimates on the time-table; now only a few months away for the most likely arrival; weapons distribution plans. Equipment testing.

And, of course, a note that Spike had departed the solar system on the second FTL launch; and would be waiting, on a 'honeymoon' of sorts with his wife, until the mind-control device had been confirmed as used, a few light-days outside of the solar system; ready to come in and help as soon as he could.

This was all... insane. On the one hand, it painted the family; or Eyeball, at least; in a more positive light. It also made the entire program seem counter-productive. Hadn't this recent string of events put humanity at risk, if the Jotun were about to arrive? The Chinese military would surely have contributed greatly to the defense of earth if it were intact. So if he were really a pawn of Apollo, wouldn't he not have done that? Or was the navy just not going to matter for this invasion?

..She needed to talk to Nicky again. Whatever else she'd learned, she'd also learned that this wasn't a black and white, good and evil situation. There's no way she was about to start breaking the law, or betraying her country. But perhaps her family wasn't something she needed to avoid.

***

As the plane turned in midair, Raid settled his guitar on his lap, using a pair of headphones to make adjustments to tuning; before he noticed the change in the light, and slid his headphones down to his shoulders. "Boss... why are we diverting? The guys back home already have work started on a new hand. Cobalt told me Jenny already has a prototype, and that by this time tomorrow you'll be glad you lost the hand."

Eyeball sighed, looking across the aisle of the jet; staring at a black-armored individual. The medieval-style armor looked a bit worse for wear; bullet markings, traces of acid burn; but still mostly intact. "Someone sent me a present. A highly inappropriate one. I need to return it to sender. I figured you could play distraction, minimize the body count. If you don't mind getting paid for another job. Say... we can just repeat the same paycheck for the last job."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Raid glanced at the Black Knight, then to Eyeball. "....Look, sir. I get it. You're mad at the guy for putting a hit on you. And we should, of course, respond. But. If I go in and trance most of the people, this big silent monster charges in and kills the boss, we'll have the feds on us, and your whole deal with them will be over. Sure, they won't declare war over it, but it could cause all sorts of problems. You could just send him in on his own."

Eyeball leaned back in his seat. "Ugh. That would be the best approach, but one EMP and this guy's free again and coming back after me. Hmm."

He pointed at the Black Knight. "You. On your knees, hands behind your back. You've suffered long enough. Time to put you out of your misery." Roland rose up; and settled on the floor. Helpless, completely unable to avoid his upcoming fate. The terrible pain running through his body was met with a blend of joy and fear at the idea of it all finally ending, as the revolver settled on his skull.

"Video call. Wayson."

After a few moments, Wayson's secretary answered; and saw the video. The Black Knight, on his knees, and the revolver on-screen. "Get your boss for me. We need to talk."

After a few seconds, Wayson's face came on the line. He looked... dramatically worse for wear. Even after he'd been injured by Reflex mis-use, he'd looked much better the first time he met the man. He was gaunt, haggard; far older than he should. "So. You caught him.... Are you going to kill Bill, too, or just Roland? Bill told me this was a stupid idea. I'd appreciate it if you let him go, even if you have to take out Roland."

Eyeball thought for a moment. The Executioner. Of course. "Roland here is on his last strike. He's only been kept alive this long because I had a use for him. Bill's ultimate fate is... undecided. You realize that if I wanted, I could pass him and his testimony over to the feds, have you extradited; and with Harrick part of a conspiracy to commit murder on La Famiglia, nobody would care if he vanished except, possibly, you."

"We both know I'd vanish immediately...but I understand. What will it cost me to get him back?"

"I've heard you've been doing research on cybernetics. I suddenly find I have enough of a use for that to be willing to let things slide. Let a few of my people go through whatever you're working on. No restrictions, no obstacles; if they want to make copies, they can. All the desperate efforts you've been making to beat Eyetech on the combat drug market? I can see them for myself. You do that? Harrick doesn't even have to know I'm watching him. You agree... and it all just stays quiet."

At a command from Eyeball's helmet, his built-in computer interfacing with the Controller riding Roland, Roland removed his helmet; giving Wayson an up-front look at the face of a Pale One, a machine jammed into his stretched-wide mouth, eyes staring vacant, unable to do anything but watch the barrel slowly center itself on his eye. A loud pop. Raid, wearing his headphones, shaking his head in irritation; several of the nearby windows were visibly cracked, as Roland fell to the ground; his torment finally at an end.

"I won't kill you, if you try again. I'll turn you into a Pale One. We've gotten much better at controlling them; you'll get to spend however much is left of your life... and I'll make sure its a long one... as a janitor. Who knows, you might even get used to the pain eventually."

"...Do you want me to recall Harrick?"

"Not yet. Let him have his fun. My people will keep an eye on him until after we've checked out your facility."

He holstered his revolver; and tapped the side of his helmet, ending the call. He frowned, looking at the stump of his left hand; his armor didn't even have a proper seal right now. . He needed to get something done about this, while he still had the reflexes to use it properly. He tapped the helmet again. "Cancel the change of flight plans. Back to Famiglia. And... don't go any higher. I may have damaged a few windows."

***

The Executioner was... relaxing, leaning back in the booth of one of the numerous clubs on La Famiglia, seriously considering the two women who had been flirting with him and the Human Shield; seemingly ignoring Kidney and T-Rex. Shield, while acting like a masochistic idiot in the last fight, at least looked the part of the tough guy, and the Executioner didn't just look like a professional mercenary; the clips from those fights he was a part of showed that he was exactly what he looked like; and he'd even survived getting a speedster's hand rammed through his guts long enough to break all of the man's limbs... and simply walked off the field without help.

Harrick had to use a dose of Reflex at the start of the last bout to be able to perform that trick; but Wayson had sent him with dozens, and he could afford to use a couple in each fight if he had to; with his metabolism, he could survive using more than ten times as much as any ordinary human, so most fights he got to spend the whole thing moving in a virtual blur compared to his enemies.

The allies he'd been saddled with were... ridiculous, but decent guys. Viper, pretty obviously, was a Family soldier who was part of that team headed out to China; the "T-Rex" guy especially talked about how much he'd helped them get things together.

Harrick was familiar with the idea; some rich nutjob that hoarded his cash but was ridiculously generous to people who he happened to like. Wayson was that way as well; an absolute tyrant to most of his employees, but if you caught his eye as someone he wanted to help, he might casually buy you a new house, or car.

Both of the girls seemed more attracted to the mysterious man in the mask; Harrick was eyeing the redhead thoughtfully.. when his phone started to ring. Wayson calling? He wasn't supposed to call during this operation. Must be an emergency. He raised one hand. "Just a sec, guys. Phone call."

He rose to his feet, stepping away. He had a cell-phone built into his helmet, but he didn't have fancy enough noise cancelling to be sure no-one could overhear; so he stepped into the bathroom hallway. "Heyo, Big Dubya. Just chilling at the club after my last win. Ended up ditching the Black Knight, but I got a new team, weirdos but effective enough. Don't know if I can win with this team, but we'll go most of the way there; got a shot at it."

Wayson's voice came on the line. "Change of plans, Executioner. Without the Black Knight around, the plan is a bust. We'll be... making friends... with Eyetech, unfortunately. Just... enjoy yourself. Finish the tournament or not. Stay safe, come back when you're done."

Harrick blinked, as his boss disconnected. The hell? Had he finally given up on the idea of revenge? He smiled. Things would be much better with his boss finally dropping that grudge and getting back to it. He stepped back out of the hallway; the red-head was looking around for him; and her eyes lit up when she saw him. He chuckled, walking closer. Enjoy himself? He certainly could.