Although Starlight was sure A-Train wouldn’t rat her out, she was desperate to get the hell out of there. If Holander caught wind of anything weird going on, it was ga over.
"Fine, money’s not an issue. Just stay the fuck out of my way." Between her monthly Vought paycheck and bonuses, Starlight could scrape together six million dollars. The rest she’d have to hit up a bank for a loan.
"I’m warning you, don’t pull any shit." A-Train tossed the makeup bag at her and stepped aside so she could leave.
As she hurried off, Starlight shot him one last glare. Watching her back disappear, A-Train’s face twisted with a bitter look. His own situation wasn’t exactly easy either. To keep his powers he still had to shoot up Compound V, handle Holander’s dirty work, and now his goddamn life was in soone else’s hands.
After he woke up, so mystery guy had co to him. Ordinary-looking bastard, no morable face. The guy gave him tasks. Fail them and his heart would explode.
At first A-Train didn’t believe it. Then a fucking tentacle grew out of his chest and he panicked.
"Death isn’t hard. Surviving is the real bitch," A-Train muttered.
On the other side of things, Maeve showed up in front of Ivan Greevs holding a little girl’s hand.
The girl was the sole survivor of Flight 37, Hannah Lara. Ivan sensed the special superhuman frequency coming off her right away.
"Fifty-seven minutes. You’re late," Ivan said, tapping his watch.
"Sorry, Mr. Greevs. The doctor just called in an ergency. Lara’s symptoms got a lot worse and I had to rush over." Maeve knew she bore so responsibility for the Flight 37 crash. Out of guilt she had taken in the orphaned Hannah Lara.
"She’s the survivor from Flight 37?"
From what Ivan figured, this little girl was probably like Starlight, dosed with Compound V as a kid without ever knowing it. Edgar and the late Madeline had never bothered to tell him.
He hadn’t cared enough to dig before, but he could probably pull up files on Lara from Vought’s database.
"What’s so serious about her condition that you had to bring her here today?"
"Severe attachnt issues and so other psychological problems."
Maeve’s face softened with pity. She gently stroked the little girl’s hair, but Hannah just clung tighter to her right arm, eyes darting around like everything around her was a threat.
"No next ti. To keep the press from stirring up shit, you and the girl stay out of the spotlight for now. Take her upstairs and show her around."
Since Maeve wasn’t deliberately fucking with him, Ivan saw no point in pressing the issue. It would just make him look petty.
Once he had dealt with the swarm of reporters, Ivan headed back to his office. He fired up the computer, punched in a seven-digit password, passed the facial scan and fingerprint check, then logged into Vought’s secure backend. He pulled up everything on the girl.
The files laid out Hannah Lara’s entire life from birth, including her superhuman abilities.
"Physical enhancent. No obvious drawbacks or side effects. Ninety percent similarity to Queen Maeve’s powers."
Ivan scrolled through it all and felt certain: Hannah Lara was basically a pint-sized version of Queen Maeve. No wonder she survived until The Deep’s rescue. Pure physical reinforcent. Any other power and she would have been blown to bits or drowned in the ocean.
While Ivan was digging through the data,
Maeve ran into Holander. He was giving Ryan the grand tour of his greatest hits.
"One day your portrait will hang up here too, and people will worship you."
Holander stood with his hands behind his back in front of the portraits, hyping up his son Ryan.
Suddenly he turned his head toward the elevator at the end of the hallway. The mont he spotted Lara beside Maeve, his face darkened.
"Maeve. What the fuck is this? You trying to disappear from the world like Translucent?"
Flight 37 was not a fond mory for Holander. If Madeline hadn’t warned him off multiple tis before she died, he would have wiped them all out already.
"I’m making ands. She has amnesia. Lost a lot of mories after the trauma."
The plane crash had slowly changed Maeve. Although she knew Holander was not a good person, it also showed her exactly who Holander really was. A gone case.
"You’d better not be lying to ." The story had already cooled off. Maeve would have to be insane to bring it up again.
If not for Ryan standing right there, Holander would have stepped up and warned her properly.
"Aren’t you teammates? Dad, why are you threatening her?" Ryan asked, confused.
"Because I’m the leader. When a teammate screws up, I have to make sure she understands her mistake."
That fake smile looked so goddamn phony to Maeve. She didn’t want to drag this out, so she turned to leave with Lara. But the little girl suddenly let go of her hand and charged straight at Holander.
Maeve’s face twisted in panic as she tried to stop her, but Lara exploded forward with shocking speed, swinging a tiny fist right at Holander.
"Ryan." Holander calmly pushed his son aside.
He wasn’t about to beat up a little girl in front of his ex.
But Holander never saw it coming. Ryan got straight-up shoved to the ground by the little girl. The smile on Holander’s face vanished instantly. He let out a cold snort.
"Get up, Ryan. Show her what you can do."
"Her strength is really strong," Ryan said as he climbed to his feet, showing zero interest in fighting back.
Maeve jumped in right on ti, grabbing the girl and pulling her away. "Let’s go."
"Ryan, you disappoint ."
Holander turned and walked off alone. His eyes burned with rage, but underneath it was a deep, unshakable disappointnt. The most powerful superhero in the world couldn’t stomach the idea of his own son being a spineless waste.
...
Deep underground, just a few hundred ters from Vought Tower, Butcher dropped two pieces of good news on the team.
"Mallory got us the address on that human trafficker. Once we grab him, we can climb the chain and dig out his boss. We’ve also got another job."
Butcher pulled out his phone with a grim look and brought up a photo of Ryan.
"This is Holander’s kid, Ryan. He’s probably a supe too, or Holander wouldn’t give a shit about him. We either get him away from Vought and Holander, or we take him out completely. No way we let Vought raise another fucking monster."
One Holander was already a massive headache. A second one and they might as well throw their hands up and surrender.
That fear was exactly why Butcher got the sudden urge to snatch the kid the mont he saw him next to Holander.
He would not allow another Holander to exist.
"Hey mate, you pissed or sothing? You want us to storm Vought and snatch soone right under Holander’s nose?" Mother’s Milk said, spreading his hands in disbelief. He slapped Frenchie on the shoulder. "This crazy bastard’s lost it. Let’s pack our shit and run."
"Alright, we’ll drop it for now. Talk about it later."
Truth was, Butcher wanted to kidnap Ryan and force Holander to give up Becca’s location.
He still couldn’t forget the mix of pain and hope in Becca’s eyes. He was sure she still loved him. She was only hiding because Holander had threatened her.
"But we can’t just ignore the kid. At the very least, we stir up shit between Ryan and his old man. Turn them against each other." As Butcher spoke, a nasty little smirk crept across his face.
"Now that’s the Butcher we know. Cool-headed and a total bastard," Mother’s Milk laughed.
"Better than your last fucking plan. I’m in. But how do we pull it off?" Frenchie asked while checking the guns on the table.
"Simple. Write down Holander’s dirty secrets on paper and have Starlight slip it to Ryan when she gets the chance. We can spice it up a bit." Just thinking about watching those two turn on each other made Butcher’s smirk grow wider.
However, right then Hughie suddenly spoke up. "What dirt do we even have on Holander?"
The second the words left his mouth, the whole room went dead silent.
What dirt? Mother’s Milk frowned. Because Holander takes down criminals and cri rates across Arica have dropped like a rock? Or because Vought packages him as the guy who loves helping fans and doing charity shit?
Maybe because he goes overseas to wipe out terrorist hideouts for the safety of the public?
Shit. Mother’s Milk realized he genuinely couldn’t think of anything solid.
Holander’s massive popularity wasn’t an accident. The fucker was packaged perfectly. No matter how rotten he was inside, without real evidence nobody could touch him.
"He raped Becca. Don’t tell you assholes forgot," Butcher snapped when the silence dragged on.
"You got proof?" Hughie shot back.
That question made Butcher lose his shit. How the hell was he supposed to prove it? Go ask Becca himself? Fuck that. He was terrified of hearing the answer he didn’t want.
If Ivan Greevs were here, he’d probably slap Butcher on the shoulder and say, "Batman’s been looking for you for a while. Ti to head back to Gotham, mate."
"Fuck! Give a piece of paper."
Butcher bit the cap off a pen and started scribbling Holander’s cris one by one.
Hughie and the others crowded around him, curious as hell to see what he’d co up with.
"Mastermind behind the creation of super terrorists.
Personally oversaw Vought injecting babies with Compound V. Architect of Flight 37.
Hypocritical butcher with a mountain of bodies. Secretly raised a whole army of criminals in the New York underworld.
Rapist.
Murderer.
Power-hungry bastard trying to take control of the U.S. military... the real spark that lit the powder keg of World War Two..."
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Read 12 Advance Chapters—P@t- Captain69
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