Hemostasis 4.1
The mysterious figure in a dark, enclosed suit moved with lightning speed through the shadows. It moved like a predator hunting its prey. One could tell that a young man was hidden beneath the mask, but the soldiers didn't care who had come for them. They tried to find their opponent in the darkness, which caused them to split up and move away from each other. And that was their final mistake.
A quick dash, and the figure bursts from the shadows to deliver a couple of blows to the fighters' chests, thereby knocking the wind out of their lungs. Then the man in the suit delivers a sweeping punch to the jaw, sending the first soldier flying, followed by a kick to the chest of another. Another dash, and the hero vanishes into the darkness from which he appeared.
The other soldiers tried to figure out where the threat was coming from, so they instantly aimed their weapons in different directions, after which they started firing. However, the man in the suit was faster and managed to dodge all the shots with a somersault. He quickly closed the distance to them for a punch, so everything could be decided in just a second...
"Cut!"
The dark figure stopped and began rolling his shoulders as the director's voice echoed across the set. And the moment the stuntman raised his head, he noticed me, after which he waved joyfully. I smiled slightly and gave a thumbs up, appreciating his work. The guy was truly talented, and from the back, you couldn't tell him apart from me.
Oddly enough, yes, I had my own stunt double. A guy my age who stood in for me in all the fights with other actors. He was an ordinary guy, trained in the complex art of "throwing punches in a way that no one gets hurt." If I were in his place, someone would definitely be leaving the set with broken bones after every fight.
"Do you r-really enjh-oy doing this?" Butcher's familiar voice sounded nearby, hoarse and funny-sounding due to the cast on his jaw. "All these dr-ress-up g-games and other cr-rap?"
Nothing, it's even better for him this way. The more he keeps quiet, the smarter he seems.
William and I stood at the edge of the soundstage. Butcher had shown up ten minutes ago, clearly with another top-secret mission, but I was only able to answer him now, which infuriated him incredibly. His whole life consisted of one endless mission, practically a war, and he simply couldn't imagine how anyone could do anything else.
And I owed Margaret a lot already, so I had to spend the whole day filming for the show, some stupid commercial for the series, and various interviews. The work was especially hard because I still hadn't fully recovered from the escape from Sage Grove. Regeneration had helped knit a few broken bones, but it still didn't work instantly.
"Just shut up. The filming is done, I definitely won't be needed anymore. It's fine, we can go now," I replied, taking one last look around the soundstage. Right after that, I turned around and headed for the exit.
Butcher mumbled something unintelligible, turned around, and headed for the exit. A car, sent by Grace Mallory, was already waiting for us there. It was time to discuss everything.
"What did the specialists find out? Did they interrogate 'Miss Electricity' and the former patient? And what about Vasily?" I immediately bombarded Butcher with questions as soon as we had driven a sufficient distance away from the Vought soundstage. All superheroes have acute hearing, and you never know if there's someone particularly sensitive nearby. I can detect them from a distance and already do it automatically, but I'm sure there are those whose hearing surpasses my abilities. Therefore, it's better to drive as far away as possible right away.
"Quiet as a f-fish, that thunder b-bitch. And that alone s-says a lot. She went through all the 'interrogation techniques' known to the CIA. And that, b-believe—ouch, fuck," he jerked his head sharply to the side, apparently from a sudden spike of pain, "b-believe me, is a fucked-up level. Yeah, all you supes are tough bastards, but absolutely nothing worked on her. By the way, she's already almost completely healed from your b-beating."
Not the best news, of course. However, nothing is lost yet, and I'm sure she won't be able to hold out forever. And no one is rushing to rescue her—even if Vought finds us, they won't be able to get to a secret CIA base without serious consequences.
"As for the others, the bald one is making contact, but is hiding everything completely. Doesn't say anything useful, just eats. Only Vasily turned out to be somewhat useful, but even he didn't tell a damn thing. Well, except for one small detail..."
Butcher cast a sidelong glance at me, as if assessing whether he should tell me. I just rolled my eyes, watching this show. I was definitely not in the mood for something like this right now.
"Don't even start." I waved my hand at him in annoyance. "Not after what we did. I thought we already went over this whole trust issue, no? The bridges are burned, quite literally. I have nowhere to retreat. If Vought finds out about my participation in the mission, I'm done for, and so are all of you. And no superpower will save me. However, your mission will also come to an end. We have so much dirt on each other that we can consider ourselves the closest of friends now."
Butcher looked at me a bit longer, exhaled, but still replied.
"A-alright, kid. Fairly earned. Listen then, 'cause I'm about to tell you a f-fucking amazing st-tory of how an ordinary guy became a supe..."
. . .
Pictures of the city flashed by the window, but I didn't notice them, lost in my thoughts.
The escape from the asylum turned out to be tough for each of us. And while for us it was a mix of James Bond and Soldier Boy movies, Marvin was starring in Fast and Furious. Only thanks to a few charges placed along the road did we manage to delay the escort of the corporation's armed forces. However, the question remained on how to escape, destroying all the evidence behind us. And Butcher, following his insane logic, found a solution.
The picture of the burning building still stood before my eyes. The smoke from the scorched walls mixed with the sickening smell of burning human flesh. The whole hospital was painted in red and yellow colors, and the roar of the fire was drowned out only by the screams of people.
At first, I didn't even understand what Butcher decided to pull off. He moved so confidently that I didn't even think to stop him. And only when the lit Molotov cocktails started flying did I start to sound the alarm. Because many patients still remained inside the walls of the complex, locked behind walls and steel doors. I suspect that the majority didn't even burn but simply suffocated to death.
I had no way to stop the flames. Thoughts of trying to extinguish everything with blood raced through my head, but there was too little of it. Even if I had subjugated all the scarlet liquid around me and ripped it from the bodies, it still wouldn't have been enough.
The fire suppression systems had been disabled due to the generator blowing up and the lightning master's attack. The only way to save people was to flee the hospital, taking as many people with us as possible.
Intellectually, I understood that we had left too much evidence, but Butcher's method was beyond reason. It would have been much more logical to call in CIA forces to clean everything up there, but that would have also drawn too much attention to us. Vought has too many eyes and ears everywhere, so as long as there was even one witness, they would have dug down to the truth.
We broke through without problems, as all the people were busy with the fire, which had reached enormous proportions. I just ran forward, carrying a couple of knocked-out women on my shoulders, while managing to tear the locks off the closed cells holding the patients.
I don't know where I got such strength. It was probably just an adrenaline rush, but as a result, I managed to save a couple of dozen patients. Even though after that my hands turned into a bloody mess, and most of the bones in my wrists were shattered. It'll heal.
We ran to the woods, then to the meeting point with Marvin. We got into the car, peeled out, speeding as far away from Sage Grove as possible. It took me a while to come to my senses. The screams of men, women, and children begging to be saved while the smoke choked their lungs still echoed in my ears. And the crackle of the fire devouring people alive.
No matter how tough he was, Butcher remained an ordinary human. Even a former military man who had kept in shape couldn't withstand my punch. With the first one, I broke his jaw, knocking out several teeth. With the second, I knocked him out cold, breaking his cheekbone. Marvin and Frenchie stopped me from landing a third blow.
I was silent for the rest of the drive. Despite the plan, Marvin dropped me off at home. Indira and Paul were gone again, some urgent matters again, so I was alone. I didn't even sleep the rest of the night and just thought. And after that, trying to distract myself from everything, I got into blood research. At that moment, only it existed for me. And that was probably the first time I completely detached myself from the surrounding world, immersing my entire consciousness into my power.
. . .
Descending into the basement of a familiar laundromat, we found ourselves in the company of the others. Frenchie, with his feet propped up on the sofa, was reading a comic book and smoking a cigarette, while Marvin paced from corner to corner, talking on the phone. Judging by his soft tone, he was conversing with his daughter. However, noticing us, he quickly said goodbye and hung up.
We didn't particularly spread about our lives outside the fight against Vought within the team, but I had managed to learn a few things. Butcher's wife died because of Vought, Marvin's—his father. And Frenchie here was basically a hired worker, serving a sentence instead of prison. Two former military men, a criminal, and a teenage boy.
Yeah, describing our team in any positive light will be difficult. I'm not sure it's even possible. Especially after what we've done.
The burning of the hospital affected them too, but not as much, given their experience and past work. However, it was clear that neither Marvin nor Frenchie was pleased with Butcher's stunt. They were silent, waiting for everyone to gather to determine our next step. Namely, the arrival of the one who directed our entire operation.
"I hope you have something to say in your defense. You officially completed the mission, but it would have been fucking better if you hadn't done anything than doing it like this," a furious voice of a woman perfectly known to all of us rang out behind us.
As expected, Grace Mallory was not thrilled that her people had turned into butchers and arsonists. Although I was sure that she herself had done worse things more than once.
Butcher immediately stepped forward with open arms and a crazy smile on his face. He seemed not to care about the deaths of people if it helped the cause. Although, I have to give him credit, after my punch he hadn't said a word to me. I suspect that deep down he understood everything himself.
"Here's your proof. Before you start whining, first take a look at what we dug up."
Butcher slammed his hand on the table, placing a piece of paper on it. Grace paid no attention to his posturing and simply walked up, took the paper, and quickly skimmed through it. Finishing reading, she looked at us in surprise.
"The Samaritan's Embrace? What is that even?" the woman asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
"A Christian charity organization sponsored by Vought and under the control of one of their supes. Ezekiel, that same psycho who drills into people's heads that supes are a gift from God, sent to America for a righteous way of life. We found out that Sage Grove, Vought, and 'The Embrace' are connected. It was from there that special drugs were supplied to the hospital. And we even guess which ones exactly," I answered.
A few days had passed since our escape, but this time was more than enough to conduct some research and piece all the obtained information together.
"Basically, this theory consists of information obtained from Vasily and my own experiments, conducted by me after the operation," I began my short lecture. "I'll be honest, it turned out to be much simpler than I thought. This data became the final missing piece of the puzzle, allowing us to put the full picture together. I had long been bothered by one fact related to Vought. Why did they, of all corporations, monopolize the supe market? I couldn't understand why a company already possessing enormous influence in the pharmaceutical sphere would get into this business. But looking at things from another angle, I seem simply stupid to myself."
Looking around at everyone present, I sighed and continued my speech.
"Vought manages supes not because Frederick Vought was the first to encounter and research such a phenomenon. Supes are artificially enhanced humans using drugs. And it is Vought that possesses the formula granting powers..."
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