The Metahuman Agency: The Superhuman War

Sisters

Director Prescott stared at the security monitors. She had watched as The Panther had flown out of the Hangar and The Bullet had driven out of the secret entrance. Most of the team had escaped. Good. She only prayed they wouldn't be killed or captured by the forces outside. She wished she had someway to warn them but she didn't trust the COMs and saying it over the PA system would only alert the attacking forces to their escape. So, they were on their own. But they always were and they had proven themselves more than capable of overcoming impossible odds. So, the Director felt they would prevail.

Most of the base had gone quiet. Her staff had either evacuated to the bunker, where they were boarding the emergency underground train she had set up. Controlled automatically, the train went several hundred miles underground and would deposit them at a black site somwhere in Michigan. Unfortunately, there were many personnel that had failed to heed her evacuation order or just hadn't made it. On the security monitors she could see dozens of security guards, scientists, technicians, and even janitors lying dead in the hallways. Slaughtered ruthlessly. Her sister wasn't taking any prisoners.

The Director squeezed her hands together. Dozens of people dead. All on her conscience. Not that it was her fault. It was nobody's fault but the attackers. But still...to see her base ripped apart, to see a place she had felt was so secure...it was a nightmare come to life. She hadn't felt like this in a long time. It almost felt like the world was ending, coming down around her ears. All in an instant. She dared not look at one security camera, where she knew she would see Robertson, lying dead in an elevator. All of this...she only hoped the metahuman team would escape and get help. Avenge the base. Avenge all of her dead staff. Avenge Robertson.

"Ma'am!" A technician's yell ripped her from her delirium. The Director looked at the man as he pointed at a security monitor. "Enemy troops just entered this floor. They're heading towad us."

The Director looked. Sure enough, mercenaries were marching down the hallway, heading for this room. She bit her lip. The moment had come then.

"Time to leave," She said, rising. The technicians swiveled around, looking at her. She pointed at the exit. "Go! Now. They're here for me. I won't have you all killed. I admire your loyalty but I won't have you pointlessly sacrificing yourselves to defend me."

The technicians looked at each other. A few looked scared, terrified even, but none moved. The Director narrowed her eyes. Oh for goodness sake! There's a place for bravery but this is just stupidity!

"Get out of here!" She yelled. The technicians still didn't move. She had half a mind to physically drag them to the doors when one spoke up.

"I'm sorry ma'am..." The technician said, as she stood up, bravely facing the Director. "But we won't leave you. Especially not know. I'm sorry." She smiled and saluted her. "You are our commander. Our leader. And we won't run away while you face the invaders." The other technicians stood, all of them saluting her.

The Director looked over all of them. She was...touched. She was then reminded that some of these people had been here for years. Long before any of the first metahumans were acquired, when she was still climbing the ranks of the government, presenting her seemingly mad theories of superhumans to disinterested councils and intelligence officers. They had been supporting her when the Metahuman Agency was only a pipe dream. They didn't just consider her a leader. They considered her a friend.

The Director swallowed. She tried to control her emotions. Her eye went to the security camera. The mercenary forces were assembling outside. One was planting a charge on the door. She took a long breath and slowly turned around. "Thank you. Thank you all. You're all good men and women. The best I coud have ever hoped for."