The Metahuman Agency: The Superhuman War

Negotiations

Jason, Laureen, Tuatara, and Hiroshi moved together, soldiers flanking them as they were led by Collins down the hallways. Collins didn't speak to them, merely whistling loudly as his boots clinked on the metal floor, the whistle echoing off the walls.

Jason found the noise annoying, but it was certainly preferable to fighting these guys. Admittedly, he was still feeling sore over these pricks trying to stick them full of needles while they were sleeping but they had taken the upper hand now, as far as he could tell. And he wasn't going to be caught unawares by the military jerks again, no matter how sweetly they talked to him. What was that saying? 'A smile on his face, a knife in his hand.' He swear he'd heard that somewhere.

They finally stopped at the end of one twisting hallway, before a pair of glass doors. Jason caught a glimpse of inside, seeing a massive table inside. A Secret Service member stood before the wall, still as a statue, expression hidden by sunglasses.

Collins stepped aside. He smiled again and gestured at the doors. "After you," He glanced at Tuatara. "...Although you might want to...morph back into a person or whatever you call that..."

Tuatara sniffed. "And be naked? No thanks."

"Yeah, I've already seen enough of your prick to last some unfortunate lifetimes," Laureen said, limping forward. "I'm sure the Vice President can deal with a lizard-man striding into his meeting. If not, well, it'll be a fun shock I'm sure."

Without waiting for further complaints, she shoved open the door and stomped inside. Jason smirked and followed after, Tuatara and Hiroshi right behind him.

They burst into a conference room, a long table dominating it. The Vice President stood at its head, holding a clicker in one hand. He was standing before a projector. The news was playing on it, images of the attack on Quincy flickering across it. Several men who Jason presumed to be generals sat around the table, dressed in flashy military garb and wearing equally shiny medals. They all turned...and their collective faces went white.

"What the fuck?!" One general cried. He tried to stand but his legs gave way and he fell to the floor, knocking a stack of papers that had been in front of him down with him. The other generals rose, staring horrified at Tuatara, backing away from the table.

The Vice President lowered the clicker, his eyes narrowing. He moved forward, teeth curling in anger. He started to shout but Jason suddenly wasn't paying attention to him. His eyes went to the projector, where the images of Quincy continued to rattle off.

The current image depicted the burned out husk of a building, cinders of smoke rising from it, chunks of rubble surrounding. Firemen surrounded the building, pointing to the upper floors while emergency services picked their way through the rubble. A pair of men emerged from the smashed font doors, covered in dust and soot, carrying an old man out, an oxygen mask pressed to the old man's face. Below the image was a news bumper, which read: "TERROR IN QUINCY: TERRORISTS LAY SIEGE TO CITY."

The feed switched to a news woman, standing before a convoy of ambulances. She looked flustered, her makeup askew, her hair not combed. She began to speak to the camera but her voice was disrupted, as the Vice President continued to shout. His words brought Jason back into the room, his focus ripped from the projector.

"...the meaning of this!" The Vice President was barking. Jason turned and saw him screaming at Tuatara. "Do you think this wise, my friends, breaking into this room?! Now?! I could have you all shot! You were told to stay put! Is that order beyond you?!"

"QUIET!" Jason roared. The Vice President jerked back, eyes wide. Jason rounded on him. The Vice President seemed genuinely shocked, taking a step back. Behind the others, Jason saw the Secret Service man drawing his gun.