Volume 4: Metaphase

Issue 2: Teddy

Jannette Adrian Churchwell

By Nova

“You all, or most of you anyways, know me,” Ramirez said. His voice was accentuated by a slight growl. He stood near the wall, facing all of us seated in the various sofas and loveseats near the windows. Behind him stood a small host of police officers and suits, who looked at him attentively. “So I’ll skip the pleasantries. You’re all here because the First Way now pose a critical threat to national security. They’re raising a superhuman army, something which, for obvious reasons, cannot be allowed to happen. We’re going to stop them.”

Ramirez said it so matter-of-factly that I wondered whether or not he was trying to rile us up, or if he was just stating the obvious. Nonetheless, he continued. “Due to my familiarity with the case,” he gave a slight sigh before proceeding, “I’ll be acting as the liaison between the Feds and the SFPD.”

“Liaison?” Ripple muttered.

“Is that a… demotion?” I whispered back.

“Well, it’s not a promotion,” she said.

“Leading this investigation,” Ramirez continued, “is Special Agent-in-Charge Theodore Kelly.” Ramirez stepped to the side. “Why don’t you introduce yourself…”

“Thank you, Inspector.” A man in a business suit said, taking Ramirez’s place. He was almost entirely bald, with only a thin layer of white hair on his head. He gave a warm, sparkling white smile to us—a smile that his eyes did not quite match. Instead, they scanned the room, darting between us in a way that reminded me of a predator surveying a herd of prey. “I’m Theodore Kelly, but please, just call me Teddy.” His smile widened at this remark. “I’m the head of the FBI Power Oversight Branch, NorCal Office.”

There were some murmurs in the room at this new information. While I had never tangled with the POB, I knew there were some in this room who had. I cast my eyes toward Wasabi, who was leaning back from Kelly; a look of fear settling into his face. I had no idea how much the POB knew about Wasabi’s… extracurricular habits, but assuming they hadn’t changed over the years it was enough to put him away for a while…

If Kelly heard the murmurs, he didn’t show it. Instead, he continued, saying, “I’ve long advocated to my superiors that the First Way were more than just a villain group, and that protective label needed to be stripped from them. While I wish the circumstances weren’t so dire, I’m nonetheless glad that they are finally taking the situation seriously.”

He took a step closer to all of us in our seats. “As should all of you,” Kelly continued. “The First Way hate everything modern society stands for. They want nothing more than to force the world into a new dark age, to slaughter the weak, to revel in bloodshed… killing anyone who gets in their way.” Kelly paused for a moment, letting the words sink in to us. “They were bad enough when they were a small band of disorganized raiders, but now they stand to increase their numbers… doubling, tripling, maybe even quadrupling their number of powered fighters. Or maybe there’s even more powerchems stashed in God knows where, and we’ll have to worry about hundreds of new adversaries.”

“We were lucky when Ripple, Seraph, and Stitch,” I squirmed awkwardly as a eyes darted across the room to me, then back to Kelly, “stumbled across Sasquatch’s little operation. But, we have no idea whether or not he was the only one brewing powerchems… or if he’s just the beginning.” Kelly’s expression suddenly darkened. “Powered armies don’t end well, for anyone. Just look at what happened in Eugene, Willmar, Fort Wayne.” He paused for a moment, “Wichita,” he said.

These deliberate callbacks to some of the darkest days in American history silenced the few whispers in the room. While Wichita might have been the worst, even Willmar—the smallest of the four—left five-thousand dead as a clash between a powered cult and the military leveled the small Minnesotan town. “We’re here to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Kelly said, breaking the silence. “As of this moment, we’re the ‘soft’ hand of the state. We’re here to make sure that NorCal doesn’t end up a warzone… or worse.”

Kelly smiled again. “To do that, we’re gonna need to be careful, thorough.” He snapped a finger and an aide in a miniskirt scurried out of the host of figures behind Kelly, handed him a remote, and scurried back. “We’ve identified a number of potential areas-of-interest in and around the city.” Kelly clicked the remote and a shimmering holographic map of the Bay Area appeared before him. Certain points on the map, several in San Francisco itself, glowed a bright red. “Intel suggests these areas could be hiding First Way, maybe even powerchems too. We’re going to assemble strike teams to hit these zones quickly, quietly, and as simultaneously as we can manage.”

Kelly scanned the room again, as if he were sizing each and every one of us up. “Ideally, we move fast enough that the First Way doesn’t have time to react, meaning none of them can go to ground or get out of town before we catch them.” Kelly sighed and clicked the remote again, causing the hologram to vanish. “Any questions?”

The room was silent for a moment, before one hero raised his hand. “When will the operation proceed?” he asked. I recognized him as Baozhu, one of the members of Starlight. He wore a dark green, armor-plated suit, which was covered in glowing lines that alternated between orange, red, and yellow.

“This intel won’t last, so tomorrow,” Kelly said. “Targets will be assigned in the morning, the attack will proceed that evening.”

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“Are we supposed to, like, know our teams yet?” Wasabi interjected.

“No,” Kelly said. “That’s for all of you to decide for yourselves. Some of you already have pre-established hierarchies… ways of doing things. We’re not going to interfere with how you organize yourself. In my experience, that never ends well.”

I squirmed at this, suddenly beset by memories from high school, of being picked last for dodgeball, never being invited to parties… My thoughts were interrupted by Gigabyte, who spoke in a finely modulated, feminine voice. “Is the intelligence you have gathered available for survey?” she asked. “Or is it otherwise possible to see a list of the areas-of-interest, in order to formulate a plan of attack?”

Kelly, surprisingly, chuckled. “Sorry, all of that’s on a need-to-know basis.” He shrugged, “Gotta be honest, the map you guys just saw isn’t even accurate, we’ve obscured it to preserve opsec. Sorry.” I sighed. Opsec, meaning operational security, was one of those words that people like Kelly liked to throw around to shut up questions.

“Trust goes both ways, Kelly,” a stern voice said. I turned to see who it was and saw one of the real legends in the room. Thunderbolt; a hero from the Golden Age and one of the founding members of Starlight. While not quite as famous or old as Champion or Professor Cosmo, Thunderbolt’s old fashioned white-and-blue suit gave the old man a sort of gravitas that the rest of us lacked. He stood from his seat and seemed to tower over the rest of us.

However, if Kelly was impressed by Thunderbolt, he didn’t show it. “Sorry ‘Bolt,” he said, “but I’m not going to blow an entire operation just to make you feel better.”

“Kelly…” Thunderbolt said, his voice cold as ice. Neon-Racer and Solar Flare stood to flank Thunderbolt, whose more modern costumes—reflecting both international and Dark Age sensibilities—deeply contrasted against Thunderbolt’s traditionalist apparel. Nonetheless, it only served to heighten his authority, as the whole room fell into a deathly silence. I found myself overtaken by a sort of awe, maybe in the same way someone might feel if Abraham Lincoln rose from the dead to give them a stern talking to.

And yet, despite this, Kelly did not back down. He smiled politely, but maintained a cold eye contact with Thunderbolt. For a moment, I wondered who would break first.

But before either could make a move, Ramirez stepped forward. “Alright,” he growled, “you’re both very impressive, but we have a job to do.”

“Inspector…” Kelly said, his polite expression breaking into an angry look for just a moment, before suddenly reasserting itself. “You’re right.” He nodded. “Thunderbolt?”

Thunderbolt looked between Ramirez and Kelly. “Alright,” he said, after a few moments of silent deliberation, “we’ll do this later.” I expected him to leave but instead he sat down, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his seat.

Kelly nodded at Ramirez, who went back to his place behind him. “Any other questions?” Kelly asked. There was no response. “Alright, in that case everyone who’s… willing to be a part of this operation should meet at our office tomorrow at 0800.” He was silent for a moment. “Dismissed.”

The room was quickly reinvigorated with activity as heroes and baseliners alike rose from their seats and clustered around in close conversation. I briefly saw Kelly striding out of the room, Ramirez in tow, neither of them looking particularly happy. “Well he’s… crabby today,” Ripple said, as we rose from our seats.

“Who?” I asked.

“Ramirez,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“He nearly pissed off the FBI and a Starlight bigwig… Normally he’s a bit more… careful about those sorts of things.”

“Eh,” Earthstrike said, as he rose from his seat. “Thunderbolt’s a hardass but he’s not an asshole. I had him for Op-2, he knows his stuff.”

“No matter, it was still quite a bold move from our dear Inspector,” Mr. Mystery said.

“Maybe he quit smoking again?” I asked.

“Maybe…” Ripple said. She seemed to be lost in thought for a moment but, shaking her head, her expression cleared. “I suppose that’s not what’s important right now.”

“Indeed,” Reef said, nodding, “we need to be ready for an operation tomorrow.”

“He could’ve given us a warning, it’s not a lot of time to get ready…” Earthstrike said.

“Renard will figure it out,” Reef said. “He always does.”

“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like more of a warning before an op,” Earthstrike said.

“Ah, don’t worry, you’ll get used to having no time sooner or later,” Ripple said.

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean that I have to like it.” Earthstrike shrugged. “Look, it was great meeting you all, but we gotta get back to the rest of Dynacrew and start planning.” He shifted his gaze to me. “See you around?”

“S-sure!” I stammered.

Earthstrike nodded and, with a slight wave, he and Reef turned and walked into the crowd of heroes, leaving just me, Ripple, and Mr. Mystery at the couches. “Well,” Ripple said, “I don’t know about you two, but I could use a drink.”

“A-a drink?” I asked.

Ripple nodded. “To celebrate. This might just be a meeting to you guys, but to me it shows that the First Way are on their way out… This time for good.”

“My fingers are crossed, at any rate,” Mr. Mystery said. “Though I can’t join you, I am sorry to say, I have other arrangements for tonight.”

“A shame,” Ripple says, “what about you, Stitch?”

“I-I,” I stammered. I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me, threatening to overcome me entirely. “I…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ripple said, a slight note of disappointment in her voice. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

I bit my lip. “N-no, it’s just…” I didn’t not want to get a drink with Ripple, but the prospect of being out… in public… doing stuff… I felt paralyzed with indecision.

“It’s really okay, Stitch, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“No!” I said, a little too loudly. Blushing, I took a deep breath, telling myself to make a choice, any choice.

“I’ll… I’d like to.” I finally said.

Ripple broke into a smile. “Great! Do you have a change of clothes on you?”

“A change of clothes?” I said, then I instantly realized why. Of course we weren’t going to a bar or club or whatever in our costumes. “Not here…” I said.

“Don’t worry, we have time,” she said. “Need a ride?”

I blushed, remembering my broken motorbike. “Yeah…” I said. “If it’s not a problem.”