Blackout - an IF adventure!

[AllWalker]

What Exit's story continues...

"So how can I help you, mister..."

"Johnson. Daniel Johnson," What Exit? replied, flashing one of his fake IDs. "I'm from United Frontiers, Inc. - we sent you an email last week about coming in to talk to some of your top students. Don't you recall?"

The professor blinked. "Um, no, sorry I don't..." He turned to his computer, pulling up his staff email account. "Let's see - huh, there it is. Strange, I must have not noticed it -"

"Really? Because someone from your school replied, confirming this meeting."

The professor grunted, looking through the emails sent by the School of Mechanical Engineering. He found the email in his system, just has he had found the other - dated a week ago, yet it wouldn't have been present an hour ago. What Exit? ignored the urge to smile - for someone supposedly out of the hacking business, Jane had been quite helpful.

"I see. Sorry about that, Mr Johnson," the professor apologised, looking embarrassed. "This place - communication is not what it used to be."

"I understand completely," he replied. "But the important thing is that I'm here now. You can spare a few moments, can't you?"

"Yes, yes, of course. You say you are looking to employ some of my students?"

"That's right. Mechanical engineers, preferably aeronautical, with a natural flare for designing. I'm not interested in raw marks - I want a student capable of getting their hands dirty, someone clever. The sort of skills we're looking for aren't easily tested for, which is why I am approaching you first."

The professor grew thoughtful. "There are a few names I can think of. I could set up meetings, if you would like."

What Exit? nodded. "I would like that very much."

*

The professor got back to him quickly, providing him with six names. Daisy Robertson, he was glad to see, was one of them. That would make things much simpler.

Interviewing the other students was fun, he had to admit. In the interests of making the fictional United Frontiers respectable he was free to make the process as gruelling and painful as possible. He would rattle off some of the more esoteric points of aeronautical engineering, reading straight from his computer screen while understanding little of it, and asking the students to explain or elaborate. He handed them mechanical puzzles of his own design, asking them to solve it. He even gave a few of them a broken remote control car and asked them to fix it. He was having a great time.

Some of the students were clever - clever enough to maybe join his organisation in ten years or so - but none could pass all his tests.

Then came Daisy Robinson. Her glow preceded her entry into the room, as she entered and took a seat. What Exit? sized her up, wondering what kind of magic she had at her fingertips, and began the interview.

He didn't understand the questions he was asking her, reading them line for line from various engineering papers, but it was clear that neither did she. She fumbled around, trying to stretch what she knew to cover the vast gaps in her knowledge. It was disappointing to witness.

But he had expected it on some level, judging from her marks. So he began the real test and handed her the puzzle, studying her as she studied the maze of beads and wires in her hand. She was concentrating hard, and then... she wasn't. Her eyes glazed over, her breathing relaxed and her hands began to move. The beads and wires slid around with sharp little clicks, her hands moving as if on their own. After less than a minute, she placed it on the desk, all the beads in the correct spots.

"Impressive," he said, examining the puzzle. "How did you solve it so fast? You were as fast as me, and I built the damned thing."

She shrugged. "I don't know, I guess... I guess I could just see the answer, you know?" She smiled. "You say you built it?"

"Yeah..."

"Hmm. Just curious, why did you make it so weak on the top side here?"

What Exit? blinked. "It's not weak there. I designed it to last forever."

"And it would, unless someone put pressure on this wire here." She poked a slender finger in between the outer layers, stressing the internal wire.

SNAP!

She threw it to him. "See? In the solved form, that wire is under too much strain. But if you had looped it to the right of that wire next to it instead of the left, that problem goes away without compromising the puzzle."

What Exit? just stared at her. That puzzle was his pride and joy, designed when he was fresh from university and first built some years later. Few people had ever solved it, none had ever broken it. "Can you tell me what's wrong with that?" he asked, pointing to the remote control car. She picked it up, entering another trance-like state.

"Sure," she answered a moment later. "The antenna is loose at the base. There are several insignificant cracks in the casing. Also, the batteries are in backwards."

What Exit? leaned in close to her. "I would like to offer you a job, Miss Robinson," he said. "But there are a few things you should know about our organisation first..."

What Exit?, how much are you willing to tell her at this point? How are you going to pitch it? She was, after all, expecting a job as an engineer, not as a conspirator/agent/thing

[Boozahol Squid, P.I.]

Trickery didn't work for BSPI last time. This time, it would be an all-out assault on the sympathies of his target. BSPI, after a steadying shot or two, would walk into the office of this famed investigative wunderkind, and throw all his cards on the table. One thing that appeals to the lazy genius, the Squid knew from personal experience, was the opportunity to make vast amounts of effort in short periods of time with the hope of exponential payoff. Saving the world would be just that opportunity for Chan.

BSPI prayed that his gift of gab included the language of persuasion, as well.

[AllWalker]

BSPI's story continues...

In the post-Blackout world, most PIs had seen their workload shoot through the roof. The actual events of the time were shocking enough, resulting in the mass hysteria that occasionally drove their line of work. The discovery of superhumans, however, had made the demand for their service insatiable. Everyone knew someone they were suspicious of, and every change in behaviour was viewed by some as an indication of some form of new ability. The need to prove these suspicions made otherwise sane people part with massive amounts of money to anyone claiming to have what they need.

Ironically, this made it easier for BSPI to see Chan.

His heart sank when he entered the reception room to find it crowded. People were packed in, all trying to grab the attention of one of the dozen or so secretaries fighting to control the chaos. Large, burly men stood posted at each corner, a final defense against the same chaos.

The queue of people would take days to get through, and that was assuming Chan spent all of his time seeing people. His heart sank - even if he successfully recruited Chan, he couldn't show up back in Tehran next month. He didn't have that sort of time.

After ten minutes he managed to grab the attention of one of the secretaries. He explained who he was, emphasising his background in private investigation, though he doubted she could hear him over the noise. She typed constantly as he spoke, nodding all the time.

"Douglas Chan is ready to see you now," she said once he stopped talking.

"Me?" he asked, now unconvinced of his own ability to hear over the noise.

"Yes. Right through that door."

Stunned, her wormed his way through the crowd, the tall bouncer acting as a frame of reference. He got close, ready to explain that he was apparently allowed through when without a word he opened the door and stood aside. BSPI nodded, again startled, and entered.

"I'm glad we could finally meet, Mr Squid."

The office was completely soundproof - the cacophany had disappeared the instant the door had shut behind him. He was standing in a windowless office, lined with plastic plants and cheap paintings. Sitting at a worn desk was a man whose face was somehow both easily recognisable and hard to place at the same time. He had an air of confidence around him, the look of a man completely in control of his surroundings.

Which, of course, he was.

"You know who I am, then?" he asked, trying to be suave.

"I know every soul who enters - the demand for my talents has forced me to be more selctive. You are the Squid. The PI who was involved in the famous corrupt cop cases a few years back. Made a few enemies that day, but you also made some friends. Please, have a seat." He did as Chan offered up some scotch. He nodded - it would be rude to refuse free alcohol, right? "I remember reading about those cases in the papers. More than one editorial suggested that your success had been a fluke, a case of being in the right place at the right time. I, however, recognised the subtlety employed by a fellow professional, even if those idiots could not." He handed over a glass.

"You are too kind," he replied, tasting the drink. It was delicious against his tongue and intense in his gut, they way it should have been.

"Not at all. I respect you, Squid, which is why I let you into my sacred room." BSPI nodded graciously, suppressing a frown. There was something troubling him, not just about what Chan was saying but the way he was saying it. It was impossible to define, but there was something definitely there.

"I expect you want to know why I am here," BSPI said, suppressing his distracting thoughts.

"I expect it is about the Blackout," he answered.

"That's what everyone is talking about, right? No one needs help tracking down a long lost loved one anymore, not unless they have superpowers?"

"Something like that." Chan smiled, swirling the drink in his hand. "Tell me what you need from me."

He downed a large mouthful, barely feeling the need to wince. "I work for an organisation. A small, but highly ambitious organisation. We are recruiting talented individuals from all over the world, for the purpose of reducing, well, that." he said, pointing towards the door.

"'That'?"

"The chaos that the Blackout is causing. We are trying to tame the chaos and panic that these powers are causing, before someone else decides now is the time to conquer the world."

Chan nodded. "I see. That is quite the challenge. But tell me, are you recruiting superhumans as well as normal humans? I assume that you know I have no powers, nothing supernatural at least."

"Yes, we are aiming to recruit as many superhumans as possible. Partly for their protection, partly because they will be instrumental in keeping the peace."

"Another question, if I may, and don't lie to me. Squid, do you yourself have any powers?"

BSPI drained his glass before answering...

[What Exit?]

I’ll present a full fledge well-paid job for Daisy Robinson. It will start with troubleshooting and testing and I will praise her skill and suggest she exceeded my expectations. I will let her know that she can do as much development as she wants. We will pay for her to continue her schooling through whatever degree she eventually wants.

I then explain about the growing organization and how she can have an office and lab job or a field job or both if she wishes. We’ll get her training in whatever areas she wants it. She can do a lot for herself, us and the world.

I will also tuck away the names of the best of the other 5 students. Good talent is always worth recruiting and I might recommend them for an actual paid internship with those that end up leading our Engineering Department.

[AllWalker]

What Exit?'s story continues...

"You see Daisy, the job would require you to relocate with us,' What Exit? explained. "Almost immediately."

She gasped. "What? But - but I can't just move. I have my studies, my friends..."

"You are already living away from your parents," he pointed out. "And you are less tied down here than you think. The work I would have you doing would count as partial credits towards your degree, which you can return to at any time in the future. You can even continue your studies from abroad. We will accommodate you in every way. Young, clever people like you are exactly what we are looking for."

It didn't seem to be working. "Gee, I don't know..." What Exit named her starting salary and her eyes lit up.

"Plus a $10,000 sign up bonus if you pack your bags and come with us by tomorrow morning." She practically swooned - it was peanuts to him, but more money than she had ever held in her life. "By tomorrow evening you will be working on a few designs for me, looking over some prototypes and existing equipment. If you can poke holes in these things as easily as my puzzle there, you will achieve great things in no time."

"R - really?" She was stunned, absolutely shocked by the way her day had unfolded. No doubt she had yet to fully comprehend the offer being presented to her. "Um, yeah, okay. I'll just - I'll just go grab my things."

"I'll come find you in the morning," he said, shaking her hand. "Welcome aboard, Ms Robinson." She got up and left, looking a little shakey on her feet. Ten seconds later her heard he let out an excited squeal. He smiled, signing a few checks that would give the more promising students he had interviewed generous scholarships.

It paid to think ahead.

Daisy Robinson
Washington DC
Recruitment Successful

[Boozahol Squid, P.I.]

BSPI mulled his options while swishing the whiskey around his mouth. On the one hand, there wasn't much use lying to Chan. He didn't know what Chan knew, and it wasn't likely that a lie would hold out for long. On the other, revealing too much too early, when it wasn't absolutely necessary, could raise suspicions. He resolved be somewhat coy in his initial answer, but to relent if pressed. The precise nature of his power he wouldn't reveal unless he received assurances from Chan, although he was willing to give the general nature of it.

[Zuul]

(Sorry about the delay. I'd thought I already responded.)

Since Natasha seems aware of everything despite my best efforts, she's either extremely observant, has a power that gives her extra information somehow, or I'm far lamer than I thought. Any of these options would kill any advantage I might have, so I'll simply lay it on the line for her. Quietly, I'll inform her that I'm here to recruit her, to help far more people than in one community alone.

[AllWalker]

BSPI's story continues...

Chan was certainly being direct, which for someone in his line of work was unusual. He wasn't playing by the normal rules, that was for sure. BSPI decided to play it cool, to suss out exactly what he knew. "You know, most people would answer 'no' to that question, regardless of the truth. People are afraid - we are on the verge of witnessing witchhunts in many communities."

"San Fransisco being one of them?" he countered. "Come on, Squid, this stays between you and me. My office isn't bugged, and I'm not in the business of selling out potential clients - that would destroy my reputation. So give it to me straight - power or no power?"

The silence was electric. BSPI eyed Chan who eyed him back, locked in an invisible battle of wills. He decided to concede this round to Chan. "I have a power," he answered.

Chan smiled, a broad, calculated grin. "Are you going to tell me what it is?"

He matched his smile. "No." He took another drink. "It isn't dangerous, but it has its uses."

Chan nodded, seeming satisfied by the answer. "Let me tell you an anecdote, if I may." BSPI nodded, swirling the ice around in his empty glass. Chan took it, refilling both his and his own. "A few days after the Blackout, everything went to shit. People weren't prepared for it, and they scared easily. I saw this fear the instant my vision returned, and I realised this was big, this was something we would remember forever. So I decided to reach out, to see who was in the neighbourhood, who would be willing to give me a hand. And who do I notice, just strolling through my town, but the famous Squid himself.

"I wanted your skills," he continued, "I wanted them so badly I sent my best girl out to tempt you into working for me. Sweet lady, that Angel, no longer works for me, unfortunate really, but I digress. She made herself all attractive, not a difficult task I assure you, and by no coincidence found you drinking alone in a bar. Do you remember?"

He did not. The days following the Blackout were erased by an alcoholic marathon the likes he hadn't done since his younger years. Much of that time was a painful fuzz. "You started hitting on her, as any hot blooded male would. You said she was beautiful, you said she was sexy, you said, appropriately enough, that she was an angel."

Chen cocked an eyebrow. "Tell me, do you always flirt with women in their native Russian?"

BSPI froze. Only with conscious effort did he not spill his drink anywear except down his throat. "She was quite impressed by your fluency," he added. "She was also impressed that you knew she spoke Russian before she even opened her mouth. How did you know that, by the way?"

BSPI shrugged, hoping it didn't look too awkward. "I speak Russian. So what?"

"You also speak gibberish, apparently," he replied with a smile. "This entire time you have been sitting here - this entire time, I have not said a single word of English to you. I have spoken nothing but a chaotic mix of Spanish, Russian and Mandarin, one which i spent days practising, just for you. And you've understood it all. In fact you didn't even notice - I'm hurt."

This time he really did spill his drink. He really hadn't noticed, apart from the vague feeling that something wasn't quite right. His powers, it seemed, were growing stronger with use. "Okay, you've got me. I can speak any language. Even gibberish, apparently."

Chan laughed. "Ah, how fascinating! How truly incredible!" To his intercom: "Send everyone home. I will be away on business for an indisclosable length of time."

BSPI cocked his head. "You're coming with me?"

"Yes, absolutely. Look - a few months ago, I tried to recruit you to work for me to do what you are recruiting me to do for you. Get it? The role reversal doesn't bother me, I'll come work for your organisation rather than the other way around. It would be my honour."

Douglas Chan
San Fransisco
Recruitment successful

[AllWalker]

Caerie's story continues...

Caerie, not losing her cool for even a moment, downplayed her smile and looked Natasha straight in the eye. "I am not here to harm you or anything like that," she explained. "I want to make you an offer."

"And it was necessary to stalk me first?" she asked, eyes flaring up.

"I had to keep track of you. I'm sorry if you feel violated - I would too, in your postion - but I promise you it was for your own safety."

Natasha gave her a questioning look. "Safety? From what - snow? Trees? Second hand smoke?"

Caerie breathed deep. "I represent an organisation founded by people with abilities, people like you. We want to help as many people as we can, but to do that we need members."

"Look, lady, you are mistaken. I don't have any powers."

"It's okay. I have an ability as well." Caerie paused, adding reluctantly, "I can prove it if you want, but first you have to tell me what your power is."

Natasha stood her ground. "No. I don't have a power. But even if I did, I wouldn't admit it to someone who claimed to have one, but couldn't prove it. Show me, or get out before I call the cops."

Caerie was stuck. She could demonstrate her powers by supercharging Natasha, which could be dangerous as, without knowing what her powers were, anything could happen. She could try to explain this to her and convince her to tell her what her powers were. Or, she could try some other method of persuasion.

[Zuul]

Being stuck either way, I'll tell her what my ability is, and explain that I can't show her unless I know what hers is first, so I know it won't be dangerous to enhance it. Particularly with all of these innocent people around.

[AllWalker]

Caerie's story continues...

Caerie looked uncomfortable - partly because she was, partly to convey this to Natasha. She answered her, her words drippling with reluctance as she whispered, "I can enhance the abilities of other superhumans. I would love to show you this, but the results are a little unpredictable - which can be dangerous, even when I know the person's power. For all I know charging you would, I don't know, make you explode or something."

"What, do I look like Peter Petrelli or something?" she answered, her expression softening a little. "Look, I still deny having powers, and will continue to do so until you prove your claim. I will, however, not struggle if you decide to supercharge me - which I would, if I had such a dangerous power. These people are dear to me, I would not risk them. Do you understand me?"

Caerie nodded, a little put off by her double-talk and deniability. It was foolish to consider charging her without knowing her ability, but she said suggested that it would do no harm...

Always the risk taker, she sighed, reaching out to Natasha. Her job was to recruit her, regardless of the circumstances. She felt the power circling beneath Natasha's skin, swirling brighter and stronger as her hand drew closer. It was a strange sensation, one which she had numbed herself to in keeping What Exit's's powers enhanced at all times. The energy built with an intoxicating tingle, expanding upwards and outwards until...

Natasha gasped, clutching her head. She groaned, doubling over against the kitchen top, hyperventilating and looking ready to throw up. Somehow she managed to pull herself to the sink, her eyes wide with panic. It was a horrible thing to witness, made worse by the fact that she was drawing people's attention. Caerie moved in to support her, cancelling the enhancement as she did.

"Caerie here needs to take me to the hospital," she said in a weak, breathy voice to the stunned on-lookers. "I'll be fine."

Then she blacked out.

Natasha Gray
Quebec
Recruitment Successful

[AllWalker]

BSPI's story continues...

Chan managed to look both stoic and excited the flight back to HQ. He was genuinely impressed by the plane, as well as the snippets he told him about their organisation, rough outlines of the progress they had made so far.

"Tell me, do you have your own research people?" he asked halfway.

"Of course."

"Can I see their findings so far? I have some things of my own I can add to them."

BSPI wasn't ready to reveal the identity of the two researchers - after all, they didn't know each other - but he saw no harm in the exchange of information. After all, what else had they recruited him for? He called up Carla first, then Chris, and got them to forward the data to his computer. He handed it over, and Chan got to work on it straight away.

One hour later...

"I doubt you'll be surprised to hear this, Squid," he said suddenly, looking up from the screen. "But it seems regular humans are forming a little gang of their own."

BSPI actually was surprised to hear this. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Yep, based on my own work and the team you have squirrelled away somewhere. They are called Global Response, and they are nasty - think of a superpower-free, dark analogue to your own group funded by various black elements from governments and corporations. No doubt they want to keep the power structure the way it is, out of the hands of people like, well, you.

"These guys are black, and I'm not talking about their racial heritage. I suspect they would kill or imprison all superhumans given the chance, and the humans helping them, ie people like me. Looks like we have some serious competition."

BSPI nodded. This was troubling, though it had to be expected - they represented an enormous challenge to the existing heirarchy of influence. "Can you tell us anything about them?"

"They might have a base of operations in South America. I say, might?"

They both shook their heads. This would complicate things enormously.

What Exit?'s story continues...

Daisy had been ready, right on time - the promise of flying in a private jet alone would have gotten that response.

"I bet you could bring down this plane with a screwdriver," he said to her while they were cruising.

"Maybe," she replied, though her expression suggested she really thought she could.

"So how does it work for you," he asked, "the problem solving, I mean. Everyone has their own approach, and I'm curious about yours."

"I don't know," she frowned. "Sometimes when I touch something, I... it's like, I understand how it works. Sort of. I can almost feel how it was put together, and weaknesses in designs kind of, I don't know, stand out?"

"Ah, I see," he said with a smile. It was possible, he realised, that she didn't even know she had a power. He hadn't considered this - her vibrant glow made it obvious to him that she did, but that didn't apply to anyone but him.

Caerie's story continues...

Natasha woke up two thirds of the way to Tehran. "What -?" She looked around and saw Caerie, and relaxed. "Oh, it's you," she said groggily, relaxing a little. "Taking me to work for you?"

"I hope that's alright," she replied. "You did agree, didn't you?"

"Yes, yes - that is what I meant when I told the others you were taking me to the hospital. You dragging my unconscious body around probably wouldn't look to good otherwise."

She nodded in agreement. "So what happened? I supercharge you and you black out? What's your ability - to feel dizzy?"

Natasha smiled. "I can see things through the eyes of animals by getting close to them. I can access their memories, too. Without all those strays, i never would have noticed you following me." She chuckled. "Did you know one of your cameras was too close to a bird's nest? Not a good idea in hindsight, huh?"

Caerie smirked a little. "So, when I charged you..."

She shrugged. "Sensory overload. Too many nearby animals, too much information. I didn't know you would boost my range that much, or the intensity of the sensation." She fell quiet, her grin fading. "Do me a favour - don't ever charge my abilities again, okay?"

"Okay."

[AllWalker]

Chapter 3 coming up, pick a location, pick a partner if you want

Recruits:
Carla Anderson - grows spikes
Chris Evans - changes appearances
Natasha Gray - sees what animals see
Daisy Robinson - sees complex structures, weaknesses
Douglas Chan - no power, private investigator

Locations:
Dublin
London
Madrid *
Paris *
Berlin
Zurich *
Warsaw *
St Petersburg
Moscow
Siberia

Tehran *
Islamabad
Delhi *
Kotte
Astana
Mongolia
Seoul *
Tokyo
Beijing
Shanghai *
Hong Kong
Taiwan *
Singapore

Perth
Sydney *
Melbourne
Wellington

Vancouver
Quebec *
Anchorage
New York *
Washington *
Houston *
San Francisco
Miami *
Mexico City *

Santa Marta *
Maracay *
Callao
Valparaiso
Buenos Aires *
Salvador

Cairo
Johannesburg *
Algiers
Madagascar
Angola
Maputo

[Zuul]

I'll be taking Natasha with me to Mexico City. My power enhancement will be going back to What Exit again as soon as we meet up.

[What Exit?]

Based on the latest report I think I should get to South America and that I will need help. I'll go for Buenos Aires and ask if Carla Anderson is willing to help on some field work. I will travel incognito on this one and try to work quick and be extra paranoid. I am also trying to keep extra alert to movements of the supers from their locations. I will update the others instantly if any supers move.

Do we have any resumes yet for potential Department heads and Security and Intelligence Officers? I am looking for people with back grounds as Eagle Scouts, SEALS, FBI and other extremely Paladin like attributes if you will.

As I also want geeks to help us I will put some friendly geeks on the mission of finding others of their kind that play exclusively Paladin types, Healers, Lensmen types, good Jedis(sp?) and very Lawful Supers on-line. From this pool I believe I can recruit scientists, medical people, engineers, computer experts, accountants and even lawyers. If they have multiple and exclusively good alter-egos on-line I think it greatly enhances the chances of them wanting to part of something heroic and for the greater good.

[AllWalker]

Do we have any resumes yet for potential Department heads and Security and Intelligence Officers? I am looking for people with back grounds as Eagle Scouts, SEALS, FBI and other extremely Paladin like attributes if you will.

The world is a black box - you only know what you see with your own eyes, uncover via research or I tell you for free because I'm kind.

But not that kind. :evil:

As I also want geeks to help us I will put some friendly geeks on the mission of finding others of their kind that play exclusively Paladin types, Healers, Lensmen types, good Jedis(sp?) and very Lawful Supers on-line. From this pool I believe I can recruit scientists, medical people, engineers, computer experts, accountants and even lawyers. If they have multiple and exclusively good alter-egos on-line I think it greatly enhances the chances of them wanting to part of something heroic and for the greater good.

Whoever stays behind to do research will get right on this.

I'll start Chapter 3, well, probably in less than 12 hours. These timezone differences are a hassle

[Boozahol Squid, P.I.]

I think that leaving behind Douglas Chan to head our field office for now is a good idea. He seems to be the organizing type, and can probably do well with some more time to collate his information with what we've gathered so far. I'm headed to Valparaiso to investigate what I can get on Global Response. It's probably best to leave Daisy behind to see if she can help Douglas with his research, but I'm going to take Chris Evans along with me. A good disguise on the spur of the moment may prove invaluable in this task.

[AllWalker]

So Daisy and Douglas stay behind, while everyone else grabs a partner and go out into the world.

Chapter 3: Caerie's story

The stopover in Tehran was quick - just enough time to recharge What Exit? and resupply. Then it was back to North America, with Natasha in tow.

Mexico City.

Though this was the third mission, she was feeling better about it than any of the others. If nothing else, she now had someone to talk to, to watch her back, to offer on-the-spot ideas. Plus, Natasha's power would make the stalking phase of the recruitment a lot easier - this time, she would not be spotted.

Caerie had known that Mexico City was heavily polluted, so perhaps her expectations were a little off. Instead of the thick clouds of choking toxins, everything seemed pretty normal. At least, to her it did. Natasha, it seemed, had not been expecting the worst.

"The air here is awful!" she gasped, moments after leaving the plane.

"The air tends to get trapped within the city here, so the pollution kind of just builds up," she said. "Apparently, it's like smoking a pack or two of cigarettes a day - though I never trust statistics like that." This remark didn't seem to make Natasha feel much better.

"I bet the animals living here hate it," she said a while later.

"The animals are probably used to it - the people sure are," she said, a little annoyed. "Look, if you want to go back to the plane -"

"No, I'll be fine," she replied, wrinkling her nose. Caerie sighed.

It wasn't to hard to find the target - Duncan Cox, a superhuman of as yet unknown ability. He seemed to be of mixed heritage - hopefully he would speak English well enough that they didn't need to talk via BSPI. Unless...

"Natasha, you wouldn't happen to speak Spanish, would you?" Caerie asked, more than a little hopeful.

"No, but all of a sudden I wish I did," she replied, causing Caerie to cock an eyebrow. She saw it and smiled. "Are all our targets going to be this good looking?"

Good grief. "Stay focused please. We're trying to recruit him, and that is not a euphamism."

Natasha nodded. "Yeah, but I wonder what his power is. Maybe he can change the size and shape of his -" She trailed off under Caerie's cold stare.

They followed him from a distance, Natasha, occasionally stopping to get close to an animal - pets, strays, vermin, many of them had seen him pass. They kept on the trail, desperately gleaning what clues they could from the information available. One thing was for certain...

"He is fast, isn't he?" Caerie asked, as much to herself as Natasha. She was breathing heavily, sweat lining her face. "I know we are not exactly fast, stopping to check animals as we are, but still, he just gets further and further away, doesn't he?"

"He is jogging, that's all," Natasha replied, equally as puffed. "I guess he likes exercise."

"We have been tracking him for a while though. Has he even stopped this whole time?"

"No, he hasn't," Natasha said, thinking back on it. She was looking exhausted, her constant use of power and concentration was wearing her out. "He must be incredibly fit."

"Not according to his Facebook page," Caerie countered. She had checked him out digitally from the plane, and judging from his profile pic he had once been a lot bigger than he was now. He had seemed quite lazy in fact, and based on the number of movies he talked about online he liked his time on the couch. What they were seeing, though, was a new man.

"This is getting us nowhere," Natasha complained. "I can't keep up with him like this. Even with us taking every shortcut and straight path, he is too fast." Caerie agreed - they had a few scraps of data, but had found out less than she wanted. But this was taking it's toll - they would need to come up with a new approach for stalking him, or to throw caution to the wind and confront him straight away.

[AllWalker]

Chapter 3: What Exit?'s story

After receiving a slight adjustment to his skin and hair from Chris Evans, he set off for Buenos Aires, with Carla Anderson in tow. She was eager to come along, and he was happy to have her - this was great experience for her, plus it would help him out if he needed a second opinion. Or backup.

They played it low key, landing on an abandoned airstrip just outside the city and travelling light. This was more than just a recruitment mission - they were also looking for answers.

Global Response. The name was highly ominous - responding to the Blackout with a reach that crossed boundaries and continents. Much like themselves, although a group which did not even recruit superhumans could not be looking for a peaceful coexistence with them. They had founded their own group in Tehran on the principles of stopping organisations like GR from destabilising the situation. This was a fight they were meant to fight.

But first, they needed information, and a superhuman from the right continent was a great place to start. Fred Bennett, he knew, was not a member of GR, not according to his indicitive glow. He was a superhuman just like them.

Fred Bennett - despite his English heritage, he spoke only Spanish. Between the two of them, What Exit? and Carla could hobble together a rudimentary understanding of the language, certainly not enough to convince him to radically alter his life by joining them. Communication would be possible via BSPI over the phone, but that would complicate things a little.

They followed him both physically and electronically, with their own master of languages translating whatever websites they could find on him - no social networking sites, no mention of him in the paper. Further online information was harder to dig up - Jane had been unwilling to help this time, but he knew a few tricks of his own

They both scanned through the translated documents he had been able to uncover by hacking an email account - his CV was stored there, in amongst emails with a few friends around Argentina. There was nothing suspicious about any of these, even after running a few programs to check for any encoded or hidden data, so they turned their focus to the CV.

"Looks like he works in a factory near the port," Carla said, skimming through it.

"Yeah. Anything else?" The CV seemed to be written as just an exercise - it didn't even have any personal details on it. It only had his work history on it, all of it at the same job.

"We could go to the factory, find him where he is working," Carla suggested.

"I'm reluctant about exposing ourselves in such a way - it could be hard to explain to everyone there why we want to just walk into a factory to talk to one specific man. Besides I'd prefer to know something, anything, about him before we confront him. Let's just call it a day for now - I need a chance to think."

[AllWalker]

Chapter 3: BSPI's story

Valparaiso.

This was a two-pronged assault from their organisation. Somewhere in South America, GR had a contact and a base of operations, someone human who was willing to join other humans to somehow stem the influence of the superhumans. What Exit? was looking for help amongst the other superhumans, a clever, cautious and indirect approach.

BSPI was going to flush them out heads on.

This was the difficult job, and the dangerous job. Either they were wasting their time looking in the wrong place, or they were directly in the line of fire. And they both looked the same. Having Chris with him would help - an instant and compelling disguise would give them an edge against unseen forces. On the other hand, it was Chris he had to deal with. The guy was one cup of coffee away from a nervous wreck.

"Look, Chris," he had said the moment they arrived. "What Exit? said there are no other super humans here, which makes us the two most powerful guys in the city. Plus you have a bloody gun - though you will not, I repeat, not even touch it without my okay. Last thing we need is you turning a solvable problem into a bleeding problem. Understand?" He gulped, which he chose to interpret as a yes.

There were two approaches here - either look for the most likely pro-GR candidate, or look for someone who would know everything going on in the city. Luckily the were both the same person - Sally Brooks, editor of the largest newspaper in town, the one which happened to publish a lot of editorials on the Blackout. Human nature being what it was, not many of the editorials published were in favour of the superhumans.

"She is either an agent of GR, acting as part of their propaganda machine, or she would know if someone else was. Either way, we should talk to her."

"She could make a good recruit," Chris agreed, "but she probably knows nothing. She's a runs a newspaper, not an anti-conspiracy taskforce. We should leave, and focus on somewhere else."

BSPI shot him a look. "Somewhere else? Like where, Disneyland? Look, we are going to talk to her, and you are going to change my appearance if it comes to that. That's it, end of debate. Now quiet for a moment, I need to think of how to approach this."

[What Exit?]

What is his job at the factory? What does the factory do? I could simply contact him about a better job to set up a meeting. An interview, even needing a translator could be an excellent why to ferret out information about Fred Bennett. I would get to ask all those stupid annoying questions about hobbies, aspirations, where he sees himself in 10 years, etc.

[AllWalker]

He works in a battery factory as a janitor. He is suffering from locked-in syndrome and...

No wait, that was that House episode I just watched.

Okay, let's try again.

What Exit's story continues...

The interview approach, he and Carla agree, makes sense. It gives them the chance to talk to not only Fred Bennett but also his coworkers without appearing too conspicous. They talked to the factory manager who, after a nice cash bonus, agreed to set up the interviews. He even volunteered to act as a translator - his English was quite good. What Exit? considered this and refused, deciding that he wanted the workers to talk freely without concern for their boss' presence. The money they paid him ensured he wasn't too offended, and promised to get them another translator from somewhere.

A few interviewees into the process, it was clear that the workers were a resonably close group. Spending each day assembling cheap toys sometimes had that effect. Carla directed most of the interviews, clearly enjoying herself - probing via the skilled translator about anything unusual about the factory, any strange occurings which would indicate superpowers. What Exit? added a question of his own here and there, but between them they found nothing even vaguely suspicious.

It was under these conditions, having no information to go on, that they met Fred. He seemed fairly content and confident, not excessively so but certainly more than many of his coworkers. He noted this, while Carla began the interview.

After the preliminaries, Carla tried probing a little deeper. "What would you say is your greatest quality?" she asked.

Fred: "Ask anyone here, they will tell you that I work hard. I am a good employee."

"And your greatest weakness?"

"Oh, I don't know. I guess I start counting the minutes until knock-off time near the ned of the day."

"What are your hobbies?"

"Sports, mostly. I love soccer and tennis, both watching and playing. Emailing friends."

"What do you email your friends about?"

He smiled. "Sports, mostly."

"Do you enjoy your job, or do you think it's beneath your talents?"

"I enjoy working, especially doing things with my hands. All I need is a decent wage, and no job is below me."

"Do you have any other skills that are relevant to your employment?"

"I know how to take care of myself, and others. I work security at the factory sometimes, and sometimes there are incidents."

"Any recently?"

He nodded. "Last week a guy was looking for trouble, I put him in his place."

"Care to elaborate?"

"It was no big deal, just some jerk looking to steal or something."

What Exit? made a note to follow up on this reference. Fred seemed unwilling to talk just now, so instead he interrupted Carla's flow of questions with one of his own:

"Why are you so happy, Fred?"

He looked from Carla to him. "Why not? Life's been good lately."

"Good in what way?" he pressed. "Your friends? Your sports?"

"Yeah, my sports," he replied. "It's nothing, but lately I've been playing a lot better."

Carla looked from What Exit? to Fred. The entire tone of the interview had changed - though she didn't know what he was saying exactly, his voice seemed to have shifted. He seemed more on guard, more defensive. She checked - the translator seemed to have noticed it, too. "Are we done here? I need to get back to work," he said.

What Exit? and Carla exchanged a look. "Sure. We'll contact you if you are successful." He left, and Carla asked the translator to give them a moment in private.

"What was that about?" she asked when they were alone. "Does he suspect something from us?"

"I don't know, but it wouldn't surprise me," he answered. "I transcribed and recorded everything he said, in case he let slip something. What he said about dealing with trouble last week could be worth investigating."

Carla pondered this. "You think... GR was the trouble?"

"Maybe. And if he thinks we're connected to them, it could explain his reluctance to my questions, and that suggests my questions might have been on the correct track. Right now we need to work out what our next move is, and we need to be careful about it."

[Boozahol Squid, P.I.]

This was going to require much less bravado than had helped Boozy in recruiting Chan, and less subtlety than had almost gotten him killed in Delhi. Unfortunately, beyond switching back and forth between those two extremes, BSPI was at a bit of a loss.

First things first: he called back to headquarters to have Douglas Chan overnight some surveillance equipment: phone taps, micro cameras, mini bugs and one of those Groucho Marx glasses/nose/moustache disguises.

The Squid Detective watched the newspaper's building to see the night janitors go in. When he'd identified one, he sent his unwilling sidekick in under the guise of the broom-jockey to plant the equipment. BSPI took the more dangerous task of meeting said janitor at a local Chilean pub and plying him with Pisco until it was foregone whether he could even call into work that night.

BSPI hoped the information he could learn from the surveillance would supply him with a little more understanding of what was going on. If not, he would have Chris disguise him as a key visitor to Brooks' office, and get it himself.

[What Exit?]

I think the next step is a second interview and the truth with BSPI’s help. I will even talk about our worries about GR and what little we know of them so far. I will offer protection and a far better salary and at the same time ask for his help. Banded together we can not only survive but hopefully better the world.

[AllWalker]

BSPI's story continues...

It was a good plan. A great plan, as it involved letting the other guy do all the work while getting absolutely hammered. In some circles that was called effective management.

It hadn't taken them long to find a janitor of roughly Chris' height and build. They looked nothing alike, yet, but that was soon to change. Now all they needed was a chance to grab his uniform and get him tanked. The fun part, in other words. But how to convince someone who works nights to intoxicate themselves in the early afternoon?

"Hey buddy, know anywhere I can grab a drink?"

Yep, that's all it took. Alcohol is the universal language - he would know.

*

BSPI learned two things that evening. One was that alcohol did not impede his ability in the slightest. The other was that drunken slurring is, apparently, a language he understands.

Perhaps too well.

He and the janitor hit it off quickly - he explained that he was recently divorced and needed to blot the memories of marriage from his head. The janitor was sympathetic - a lot more so after the third free drink. By the fifth free drink, he had no qualms handing over his uniform. Chris picked it up, but not without giving the two of them the dirtiest look he could pull. "I'll just get to work, then?"

"I'll buy you a drink when you get back," he promised, perfectly articulate as always.

By the time his shift was supposed to start, the janitor was not looking too good. He was struggling to hold a glass, unable to sit still, and generally being very good company. BSPI was impressed - this guy knew how to hold his liquor. They had drunk so much that even he was feeling the effects.

Chris returned to find the janitor in the last stages of consciousness. The Squid Detective was looking very rosy, and seemed to have difficulty looking him in the eye. "Wait - didn't you just leave?" he asked with a burp, before checking his watch. He stared at it for a good two minutes before giving up.

"I've been gone three hours," he replied, blocking his hand as he went for his beer. Chris grabbed the glass and drained it. "Come on, let's go."

"But what - okay, you're right," he slurred, getting to his feet. Eventually. "Hey, you look different," he said to Chris.

"Kind of the point, Squid. You do remember what I've been up to while you've been pissing it up?"

BSPI nodded. "Sure. You were playing superspy. I'm sure you did a great job, too."

Chris sighed. "I should have stayed in Tehran."

*

"Pass me a drink, would you?" he asked a few hours later. He had been sleeping, letting the booze drain from his head and into wherever it goes to make you feel like shit.

"You need water," Chris said, placing a glass in his hand.

"I need a real drink. Check my luggage for a flask."

A minute later he was feeling much better. "So what do we have?"

Chris pointed to the laptop. "Live video and audio. I can even check their email system. They are a small newspaper in terms of permanent staff and security - it was easy enough placing these. And from what I can tell, the person who controls which editorials are published is this woman, Sally Brooks." One of the windows blew up to fill the screen. "This is her office. While I was there, I took the liberty to go through her files. Most of the editorials she receives are anti-Blackout, anti-superhuman."

BSPI nodded. "So the paper isn't biased, just publishing what it gets."

"Exactly. I don't think she's GR."

"Probably not, but I still want to talk to her. She is more likely to know of strange activity in her own backyard. Failing that, a reporter-turned-producer might have skills that our organisation needs."

"And if she's that good, she'll smell our BS a mile off," Chris pointed out. "How do you want to approach this?"

[AllWalker]

What Exit's story continues...

The best way forward was to proceed as planned, they figured. They would offer Fred Bennett safety, money and the truth, in exchange for his truth and his enrolment. Carla would set up another meeting with him, explain what they were about, and leave with him in tow. The perfect plan.

"He doesn't want another interview," Carla said to What Exit?

"He doesn't?"

"Nope. I talked to his manager, and he's not interested."

What Exit? scratched his chin. "But he's still going to work? Well, we can ambush him on the way home or something." He paused. "That is a terrible word for it - we'll try to be non-threatening."

Carla nodded. "We'll just have to be careful, that's all. But he'll be off work soon, we should hurry."

The two of them travelled to the factory. On the way, What Exit called up Boozahol Squid

"Yello?"

"It's me. I might need you to do some translating for me, there is... Have you been drinking?"

He heard a laugh from the other end of the line. "Yeah, but it's relevant to the investigation. Highly relevant."

A pause. "If you're not up for this..."

"Don't be silly, I'll translate, of course I will."

What Exit shook his head. "Okay. We'll need you soon."

Fred was coming out just as they arrived. He was heading the other direction, so he didn't notice them until they were close. He stiffened as soon as he relaised who they were, despite their efforts to look non-confrontational. What Exit? handed him the phone, which Fred took. He and Carla switched on their earpieces, listening via the phone.

The following conversation took place via BSPI:

"We are interested in offering you a job, Fred Bennett," Carla said. "We would look after you and take care of you, because of your special talents."

He scoffed. "You are not who you say you are. Just like the other guys."

What Exit?: "Those other guys were not us. Tell us you they were."

"We can protect you from them."

Fred backed away from them. "No, you are the same. They tried to hurt me because they said I am superhuman, but I am not. Just leave me alone, please."

"We are superhumans too, you know. I can see that you are one - that is my power. I use this power to bring us together, to help against people who would hurt us."

He shook his head. "I don't want your help. I can protect myself."

"But we need your help, you see?" Carla pleaded. "The people who tried to hurt you, we believe are after us as well. We risked a lot to come and find you."

This was met by an unfavourable silence. What Exit? and Carla exchanged a look. This wasn't working, they needed a new approach.

[Boozahol Squid, P.I.]

"Yeah, but it's relevant to the investigation. Highly relevant."

I'm really enjoying this.

[Zuul]

From what's been seen so far, I'll assume that whatever ability he now has is somehow tied in with his sudden physical energy and stamina. There isn't much else to go on, though, and Natasha is exhausting herself using her powers to try to track him. Since setting up surveillance equipment will be useless on someone who just keeps moving, we'll have to take a risk and approach him directly.

[AllWalker]

Sorry guys, busy busy... but I'm still waiting on Booz and What Exit to make their moves, so there.

Caerie's story continues...

There was no choice in the matter, they had to confront him. Duncan Cox was too fast, too mobile to keep tracking like this. After resting to return their strength the set out to find him again, not bothering to consult the local fauna this time.

Finding him wasn't hard thanks to What Exit?, and cutting him off wasn't much harder. He was jogging, not running, and his routes were circuitous and all over the place. Taking the shortest path at every stage put them ahead, allowing them to intercept him near in a less crowded street.

"Are you Duncan Cox?" Caerie asked him. He stopped moving, though continued to jog on the spot.

"Yes, I am. Who are you?" he replied.

"Oh good, he does speak English," Natasha commented with a smile. "That makes this easier." She flashed him a highly seductive grin. He responded in kind.

"We would like to -" Caerie started, before being distracted by his hands. They were twitching about, like he was trying to shake oil from them. "Would you be more comfortable talking to us... sitting down?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Can't stop. If I stop, the energy begins to build and build, it feels like I would burst, do you ever get that? No? Well I need to keep letting out this energy. I can't stop."

"You look exhausted," Natasha pointed out. It was true - his hyperactivity was barely masking the droop to his posture, the droop to his face.

"Nah, I'm fine. I slept yesterday morning, had to rest my legs, so I'm good to go."

Caerie and Natasha exchanged a look. "You know, we can help you get your energy levels under control if they are bothering you."

"No no no no no," he replied, "no need for that. I can calm down at any moment, I can you know, but why would I? Life's too short, need to live it at triple time in order to get anything done. Anyway you said you wanted to talk? What about? Do I know you? How do you know me?"

"We, er, were looking to recruit you. We represent an organisation interested in hiring special people like yourself -"

"Really?" he asked, his surprise radiating from his face. "But why are you here?"

Again, they exchanged a look. This guy was as confusing as he was exhausting. "Like she said, we are here to recruit you," Natasha said.

"Right right right right, but I already told the other guys you sent I wasn't interested. Bunch of boring suits, I told them, then ran off before they could -"

"We haven't tried to contact you before," Caerie replied slowly. "Those 'suits', they weren't us."

Natasha pulled her aside. "But I thought Global Response wasn't recruiting superhumans."

"No no, these guys weren't called Global Response. They called themselves..." He paused. "Well, I don't remember. But they were after superhumans, I know that."

Caerie blinked. "Sleep deprivation effects memory," she muttered under her breath. "You really don't remember who they were?"

He became thoughtful for a moment. "I don't think they said who they were from. Or maybe they did. If they did, it wasn't... what did you say? Something Response? It wasn't that."

This was a disturbing development. Either GR had started pulling superhumans, or there was another group out there. Another superpowered organisation.

Duncan interrupted her thoughts. "So when do we leave?" he asked.

"What?" Caerie responded, still hald caught up in her thoughts.

"You are recruiting me, right? When can I start? I wouldn't join a bunch of suits, but a couple of fine ladies like yourselves... What do I need to do?"

Tone it down, Caerie thought to herself. Wait - did we really just recruit him?

"Are you sure we still want him?" Natasha whispered in her ear.

Duncan Cox
Mexico City
Recruitment successful

[What Exit?]

I will give Fred the full impassioned talk about helping to change the world, mutual protection in the time to come and how dangerous we think Global Response is.

If this fails as I suspect it will, I will contact the others for help. I am at a loss for how to recruit Fred Bennett.

[AllWalker]

Boozy, speak up soon or I will make your move for you. Which would probably be okay - you're pretty well set up.

What Exit?'s story continues...

Seeing no other way, Carla continued her passionate appeal to his humanity. "I don't know what it is you can do, but I bet it is amazing," she told him, hoping that BSPI's translation would properly capture the emotion she was trying to convey. "What we are trying to do, it is bigger than all of us. This is about the whole world. We are fighting against the sorts of people who would hurt you, hurt us, because we know that it is the only way we can be safe and free. But we are so few in number, so tiny, we need the help of people like you."

Fred stared back at her. Her words were effecting him, yet he still remained determined. "I'm sorry, but this is not my fight. I can not get caught up in all these conspiracies, all these lies and violence. It is too much. I just want to live a normal life."

What Exit? sighed. If he was this reluctant, he wouldn't make a good agent. And he couldn't blame him - he had seen firsthand more of their war than they had, coming face to face with the enemy. "Okay Fred, we understand," he told him. "But take this phone, it has my number in it. If ever, ever you get into trouble, don't hesitate to call. You are special, and deserve to feel safe." To Carla: "Let's go. Our time will be better spent planning the next move."

She looked ready to argue but decided against it. She turned around, waving Fred off as he slipped into the shadows. By the time she looked again, he was gone.

Fred Bennett
Buenos Aires
Recruitment failed

[Boozahol Squid, P.I.]

Urk. Sorry, guys, totally forgot about the thread. (Thanks for the ping, WE?)

"Smell our BS is a mile off? Good thing for me that BS is my middle name! Err... my initials."

Boozy couldn't be sure that Brooks wasn't empathetic to the point of view of her readers: columnists work for, and people send in letters to papers that generally share their mindset. But if there was any chance he could get Brooks on his side, or at least get some more information out of her, he had to do it: the sort of people who ran Global Response probably knew of organizations friendly to them in their own backyard, and she might have clues to them.

The only problem was what to offer her: BSPI called up Douglas Chan in the hopes that home investigation had pulled up the newpaperman's catnip: more information.

[AllWalker]

BSPI's story continues...

BSPI knew how the game was played. Information for information. If they couldn't recruit Sally Brooks, they at least wouldn't walk away empty handed. He called up Chan, asking if he had anything they could use.

"Have I?" he replied. "There is some weird shit going down, right across the globe." He explained what he had found.

"Hmm, that is big," BSPI replied. "She'd tell us everything she knows for all of that."

"Which is why you don't tell her all of it. Just bits."

"I know, Chan. Thanks." He hung up.

"What was that about?" Chris asked.

"Just follow my lead, you'll find out soon enough. Come on, let's go see her."

They didn't have time to follow all procedures. Thanks to the cameras Chris had already laid, breaking into the building was simple. There was no security inside the building during the day, and what little there was shielding the walls was patchy.

They were in.

Sally looked up when they entered unannounced. Her surprise did not stop her reaching under her desk - whether for a gun or silent alarm he didn't know. But they entered arms raised above their head, as non-threatening as they could manage. Chris had even tweaked their features beforehand, given them a look, he claimed, made them more trustworthy. This was enough to put her off her guard long enough for Squid to get his point across.

"Sally Brooks, we are here to buy some information, nothing else," he said. "There's no need to call security."

She cocked her head, now more amused by the two men in her office. Her finger remained beneath her desk. "And you don't have an appointment because ..?"

"Because we need answers fast."

"What about?" she asked, smiling.

He paused. "We need to know everything you can tell us about Global Response."

She chuckled. "Never heard of them."

Chris gave a chuckle of his own. "I study people's faces, I've done a lot of this the last few months, and it's made me better than average at spotting lies. Your microexpressions betray you."

Her smile faded, a calculated move. "Okay," she replied slowly. "My poker face is on. I have never heard of Global Response. Did I just lie?"

Chris stared back at her. "I... I don't know."

"Good, so you know where we stand then. Now, why are you after Global Response? You looking to join?"

BSPI shook his head. "Actually, we were wondering about your stance towards them."

"My stance? Really?" She straightened her hair. "I am pro-GR, from the point of view that they will sell papers when people find out about them."

He nodded. "Which of course will be tomorrow, if they keep this up."

Both Chris and Sally were surprised by this, and neither concealed it too well. "What are you talking about?"

"GR is becoming more active globally," he replied. "I know of a superhuman in Buenos Aires who was hassled by them, that's one of the things that drew us to South America in the first place. But we are registering activity all over the world, we just can't pin any of it down. They have some powerful friends."

Sally arched her fingers. "Where abouts?"

He shrugged. "Where do you think?"

"I don't know. Asia? They have a guy in Singapore - I'll give you that for free."

"Asia?" he replied, his eyebrows cocked. "No, that's not what you were thinking. How about North America?"

Her expression soured, then softened. "If I tell you where GR is based in North America, will you tell me what they are doing? If they are planning to create havoc, I'd rather not have it in my backyard, you understand?"

"Of course."

She nodded, sighing. "I don't actually know where they are, but I know where they are not. New York, Washington DC, Quebec."

"That tells us nothing we don't already know," Chris replied before BSPI could stop him. "What?" he whispered, recoiling under his glare.

"You just told her we are the group who recruited people from those cities, you idiot." he replied. To Sally: "Anything else you can tell us?"

"You know how it works," she replied. "They will be operating in cities with no superhuman in them. You will know more about that than I," she added with a smirk.

"You told us nothing, so we tell you nothing," he replied. "But now you know who we are, care to join us?"

She shook her head. "No. Forget it. In the coming war, I will remain neutral."

He nodded. "Good bye, then."

Sally Brooks
Valparaiso
Recruitment failed

[AllWalker]

Caerie's story continues...

Duncun Cox refused to dial down his energy, even on the plane. She was growing increasingly irritable, and less able to convince hersel this was a good recruit. "Care to tell us about your ability?" she asked him.

"Sure sure, it's kind of like adrenaline, but like super adrenaline, like sticking your tongue on a battery. It's wonderful, I am charged, my energy is through the roof."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "I dare you to supercharge his abilities," she whispered. Caerie groaned. It was going to be a long flight.

What Exit?'s story continues...

"Did you really mean it?" Carla asked him when in the air.

"Mean what?"

"About coming to help him if he needs it."

He looked out the window. "If I can," he replied. "Though I doubt he will need us. I think Fred was some kind of rapid healer.* Plus, I think he was serious about disappearing. If we could find him..."

Carla looked at him. "Healer, huh? He did give off that impression, of seeming impervious to injury."

They travelled the rest of the way in silence.

*Mod note: Names and powers were randomly assigned. They fact that the healer has the surname "Bennett" is, actually, a coincidence, and by no means a rip-off of Heroes.

BSPI's story continues...

"So what the hell was that about?"

BSPI looked up from his scotch. "What?"

"That entire exchange. What did we get from it?"

He yawned. "Well Chris, he know that GR is based in at least one of the North American cities on our list without a superhuman in it. Vancouver and Anchorage, for example. To think that we were so close before..."

"And what were you going to tell her? You said you were going to sell her information."

BSPI looked down at his drink. "I was going to tell her that GR is preparing for a turf war against another group. One which seems to be recruiting only superhumans. The Foundation, Chan called it."

Chris choked on his own breath. "Okay... so we find a superhuman who is also a huge fan of Isaac Asimov?"

He chuckled. "But there are two organisations to compete with now. One exclusively human, one exclusively superhuman, and they are preparing to clash. "

[AllWalker]

So there are two organizations out there, each with their own agenda, each growing larger each turn. They are on the verge of conflict. The choice is whether to enter the fray head on, or whether to focus on recruiting. All your agents are combat ready, but some will be better than others.

The researchers have uncovered the following information:
Jane Hoshida, Beijing, an expert computer hacker
Unknown, Singapore, GR agent
Unknown, Miami, Foundation agent
Unknown, Houston, Foundation agent
Unknown, Vancouver, GR agent
Unknown, Anchorage, GR agent

And an interesting article about a psychic in Warsaw, one who has developed quite the following… since a few months ago.

Recruits:
Carla Anderson - grows spikes
Chris Evans - changes appearances
Natasha Gray - sees what animals see
Daisy Robinson - sees complex structures, weaknesses
Douglas Chan - no power, private investigator
Duncan Cox - adrenaline

Locations:
Dublin
London
Madrid *
Paris *
Berlin
Zurich *
Warsaw *
St Petersburg
Moscow
Siberia

Tehran *
Islamabad
Delhi *
Kotte
Astana
Mongolia
Seoul *
Tokyo
Beijing
Shanghai *
Hong Kong
Taiwan *
Singapore

Perth
Sydney *
Melbourne
Wellington

Vancouver
Quebec *
Anchorage
New York *
Washington *
Houston *
San Francisco
Miami *
Mexico City *

Santa Marta *
Maracay *
Callao
Valparaiso
Buenos Aires *
Salvador

Cairo
Johannesburg *
Algiers
Madagascar
Angola
Maputo

[What Exit?]

Warsaw sounds like a valuable priority. A real psychic would be a huge advantage in what is coming up. I will plan the flight and request all the information on this person. I would like to take Natasha Gray along to assist in surveillance and protection.

It is time to increase out support staff. Do we have the resumes of any of the experts to review yet? Has Douglas Chan been able to do any background checks or supervise competent people to do so?

[Zuul]

I'll prepare to go to Miami and would prefer to bring Daisy Robinson with me.

[Boozahol Squid, P.I.]

Back to North America, to Vancouver, with Chris in (reluctant) tow.

[AllWalker]

Even people with superpowers deserve an easter break. Conspiracies can't be conducted without proper rest.

Chapter 4: What Exit?'s story

Conflict between the clandestine organisations was fast approaching, but it wasn't at their doorstop just yet. There was still the last minute to bolster their numbers... and powers.

As soon as they had arrived back in Tehran Chan had been waiting for him. "I have something you might be interested in," he had said. He handed him a printout from the internet, which he quickly scanned.

"A psychic, huh? I wonder what that even means... Could be useful - I'll check it out. Meanwhile, how is the search for people with those skills I told you about?"

He winced. "These things take time - a group like ours needs discretion above all else. But it shouldn't be long, probably before you get back."

That conversation had taken place 5 hours ago. Now here he was in the heart of Warsaw, searching for an alleged psychic, with an animal psychic at his side. The Blackout had made life, more than anything, very strange.

"How do you want to do this?" Natasha asked him.

He held up a small vial. "Simple. We attend one of her shows. Melissa Davies attracts quite a crowd - we should blend in. I can feel her at the edge of my thoughts, she definitely has some ability, but we need to get close in order to see what she does, whether she uses any tricks."

"Makes sense," she agreed. "But how do we do that?"

"Not we," he replied. He tapped the vial with his thumb. "Your abilities work on flies, right?"

Natasha shuddered. "Only if I have to."

"Great! Let's go."

*

The show was held in the middle of one of the new parks to have arisen in recent years. What Exit? had enjoyed what he had seen of the city, a surprisingly modern, beautiful cityscape, the sort of fresh face that only comes about from near annihilation in decades past, coupled with the new found freedom of the former Soviet city. A simple marquee was set up, just as he had known - his flies would be mostly trapped within the nearby area.

They paid their entry and found a place to stand. There were bugs on all kinds on the inside, a population which he added significantly towards. His flies scattered themselves, earning him a few strange looks as the insects dispersed.

Melissa Davies was a talented showman, grabbing the audience's attention with a flashy entrancethat was followed by a rapid string of Polish that Boozy was unable to translate fast enough. It didn't matter - this was all the nonsense before the real performance.

The two of them watched as one by one, members of the audience were brought up on stage. This time she spoke slow enough for BSPI to keep up, punctuating her speech with dramatic pauses. It was all fairly straightforward - she would amaze volunteer after volunteer with insightful comments about their own psyche. Many broke down into tears. It was very formulaic, nothing they hadn't seen before.

And yet, Melissa had the telltale glow about her...

"What do you think?" What Exit? asked Natasha at the end of the show.

"I don't know," she replied, scanning the air and occasionally zoning out a little. "The insects here didn't see anything that we didn't - no hidden mic, nothing backstage. Their senses are terrible, but I reckon they would have spotted something like that. What we saw was all there was, which was nothing special. Then again, it might be the mundane application of a powerful ability, like precognition or something."

He nodded in agreement. "Well, we can find out more by tailing her."

"Or, by asking her to do a private reading of us. We throw enough cash at her, she'd probably agree to it."

[AllWalker]

Chapter 4: Caerie's Story

Miami. The word conjures up many images. Tropical. Old people. Ethnically blended.

And now, for Caerie at least, the home of Ella Campbell, Foundation agent, superpower unknown.

The mysterious Foundation, a rival organisation that recruited exclusively superhumans. This made her nervous - like Global Response, the Foundation was a natural reaction to the Blackout, and human nature is far from perfect. She doubted there could be two organisations in the world focused on keeping the peace and stability.

This was the first time they would make contact with what had to be assumed was the enemy. This was more dangerous than simply recruiting Ella - someone else had beaten her to that. This was, if anything, the front lines of a conflict which was threatening to engulf first North America, then the world.

But this wasn't a war yet. If it was, she would have been less willing to bring Daisy along. As talented as the kid was, she was still just a kid. A fantastically useful kid.

The ability to sense weaknesses. Caerie couldn't help but wonder what that was like, to look at something and immediately know how it was put together, how to break it. She must have a strange outlook on life.

"So, how is this going to work?" Dasiy asked.

"We follow her, trying to get to know her," Caerie replied. "Then we have several options. Convince her to defect. Convince her to turn double agent. Drive her underground. Basically, remove her from the hands of Foundation any way we can."

"Sounds difficult," she muttered.

"Which is why there are two of us. From what I hear of your skills, you might have an insight that I would otherwise miss."

After barely an hour of following her, one thing was clear: Ella Campbell had money. She drove a nice car, ate at nice places, and adorned herself with with bling and $200 haircuts. She was generating a lot of attention wherever she went, her clearly displayed wealth giving her an attractiveness that physical beauty alone could not achieve.

"Gees, Foundation pays well," Daisy observed.

"We pay better, I believe," Caerie countered. The young Miss Campbell had no discernable income, having quit her job as a waitress a month ago, yet she was clearly very well off. "She seems to like her money - that alone might be enough to turn her."

They continued to observe. Ella met up with her boyfriend for a walk along the beach. Then she met up with... another boyfriend for a drive. Then, another. "Holy crap," Caerie muttered. "What it's like to be young, rich and loose."

"We should have brought What Exit? with us," Daisy said, "seeing as how she reacts to cute guys."

Caerie turned her smirk into a cough. "Excuse me," she said, unconvincingly. Then, as much to herself as to Daisy, "Okay, so what now?"

[What Exit?]

The private reading sounds like a good idea and while I dislike such displays normally I offer to take Natasha for a huge shopping spree before the reading. Expensive hairdresser, boutiques and jewelery. I will also rent a very expensive luxury car and offer to have a limo pick up Melissa Davies. I will upgrade the Hotel room to the best available. We'll pitch the salary available and chance for rewards while serving the world.

[AllWalker]

Chapter 4: BSPI's story

The direct approach, again. Global Response, the human reaction to the Blackout, was threatening war with Foundation. If they had any chance of stopping it, they would have to confront the situation directly, for the good of them all.

"Why the hell to you keep dragging me along?" Chris asked as they landed in Vancouver.

"Because I am your boss. Because you are useful. Because it pisses you off. Pick your reason," he replied. "Come on - he have a GR agent we need to deal with."

Global Response had already treaded on quite a few toes. For a clandestine operation, they didn't mind stomping across the face of the world like a herd of elephants running from a mouse, or chasing a peanut, or however the convention went. In many ways they were alike, in that they both held no regards for national boundaries in their missions. But unlike them, GR lacked UN support to waive those boundaries. This made their standing complicated, and wherever there was complexity, there was a lawyer.

Rachel Kelly. Whenever GR found itself it a questionable position, it was Kelly who smooth talked their way out of it. She worked mostly by proxy, advising people who advised people who adviced GR, but for Douglas Chan the connections had been obvious. She was the legal brain behind the organisation, which made her a top priority target.

"When you look at her," BSPI said to Chris as he watched his target via binoculars, "what words come to mind?"

Chris grunted. "My first thought? She looks like a ball-breaker."

"Hmm," BSPI said, adjusting the magnification. "That is the real reason why i bring you along - you and I think a lot alike."

They had already conducted the usual internet search, and turned up the usual assortment of internet garbage. A barely maintained Facebook account, a blog containing little about herself and mostly vague comments about politics, and of course her employment profile for the lawfirm she worked at. All useful information was absent - conspicuously so. It screamed of having being cleaned over by second-rate data scrubbers.

There was a confidence to her stride, he noticed, in the brief moments in between her getting out of her taxi and entering her office building. Her suits were expensive and well cut, giving her the confident look of someone enjoying their first tastes of power, perhaps a little too much.

"Well, what now?" Chris asked.

"I will organise a wiretap, but that will take time," BSPI replied. "Being a lawyer and an agent makes her doubly cautious. Security will also take time to work around. So for now, we simply wait for her to leave. Hopefully she eats lunch like the rest of us."

Indeed she did. She left the building promptly at 1:00 pm, heading by foot to a cafe not far from there. They followed, watching her every move. She made a few calls, which they were able to overhear - mostly unimportant stuff about work, but they couldn't tell what words might be code to her handlers.

After ordering her lunch she disappeared into the bathroom. Ever alert, BSPI split up from Chris. "I'm going to circle round back in case she tries to escape," he said. "Call me if she comes out."

Chris called him ten minutes later. "She's back, and she looks a little flushed. Like she just had an argument with someone. There may have been someone else with her in there."

"There wasn't," BSPI assured him. "I found a good vantage point to look in - she was alone."

This was met with a pause. "A vantage point... into the women's toilet in a cafe?"

"What can I say, this job has its dangers," he remarked.

"Uh... huh. Anyway... what do you think that was about? More importantly, what do we do from here?"

[Boozahol Squid, P.I.]

BSPI had a tough job ahead of him. However, if a woman wanted power, the only way to attract her further was to offer more. Boozy's plan was to offer a better opening by working with some superpowered humans.

[Zuul]

Since Ella Campbell appears to love her money, bribery seems like a potential approach. After previous experiences, I'm not entirely convinced that everything is as it seems, though. Before directly approaching her, I want to do a little reconnaissance on the boyfriends. If our private investigator could find any common thread between the men, so much the better.

Assuming there is no obvious threat and hopefully armed with some increase of data, we'll attempt contact, with a job offer.

[AllWalker]

What Exit?'s story continues...

He was a scientist by training. In his experience, money was better directed towards furthering research than wasted on self indulgence. But sometimes in the field of deception and espionage, the line between personal and professional expenses blurs. What Exit? had to remind himself of this often.

Natasha had money, but she too shied away from excessive spending. Her income was finite and the worthy causes out there were not. She, too, was not used to the wasteful spending. But she was a lot better at it than he was.

"No no no!" she said for the fourth time that hour. "I told you, you need to focus on the darker colours. You look terrible."

He feigned hurt. "This suit is nearly a thousand dollars, Natasha. Besides, I like this shade."

"You may like it," she replied slowly, rolling her eyes, "but I don't. It doesn't match your eyes."

"Damn. Why do you get the final say in this?"

"Because I know what I'm doing, you giant nerd," she teased. "Wait here, I'll go pick you out a tie."

What Exit? sighed. Despite having much more work to do, Natasha had finalised her look long ago. She knew what she wanted, what would look good, and went for it. He, though, had no idea. It was impossible to deny that she knew what looks worked. In the past few hours she had been completely transformed from an average sort of woman to a glamorous queen. She looked fantastic, the result, he knew, of fundamental evolutionary programming that instinctively sought out well-off mates. Well, she was hitting every instinct he had.

After much fussing and indecision they finally agreed on a look for him. "There. Now we look like a rich and respectable husband and wife," she said.

He nodded. "Now let's go see if she can tell if we're lying."

*

Melissa arrived via limo at their hotel, looking quite pleased at the luxury available to her sudden clients. The hotel staff showed her up to their room, where they were waiting.

"Hello," What Exit? began, "my name is James Gray, and this is my wife Natasha." Natasha gave a polite wave.

"I am such a big fan, Ms Davies, I'm so glad you agreed to see us."

"You called me here for a private reading," she interrupted in adequate English, "to talk about how you don't love each other anymore?"

They exchanged a glance. "We... didn't give a reason..."

"But it is true? I sense no love between you." She looked back and forth, shaking her head. "You are both excited to see me, that is true, but you are unlike so many of my fans. You," she said, pointing at What Exit?, "the mere sight of me excites you. But it is not devotion, nor is it respect. You are curious about me, you seek to test my skills perhaps? A skeptic, maybe? Or perhaps a scientist of some kind. Your head is full of inspiration and ideas, yet you keep your other emotions under tight control.

"And you," she said, moving towards Natasha, "I sense such extraordinary compassion in your heart. I amaze you and intrigue you, just as this man amazes and intrigues you. But there is no love for him, not even a sense of closeness...

"You are not married, are you? You barely even no each other." Melissa smiled as they, again, exchanged a look. "Ah, and there are your emotions trying to break through, James. Panic, fear, some unique combination of them both. You keep secrets, important ones. Even your name carries with it a sense of unfamiliarity."

She strode past them and took a seat. "So, have I earned my fee yet? Or is there something else you would like to discuss?"

[What Exit?]

“You have nearly earned your fee Melissa but I was hoping you could tell us about our future a bit and maybe if your own is involved. If you don’t mind can we play this out a bit more? Can you figure out my real name, you were right there of course and I won’t insult you by suggesting you guessed it. I won’t try to hide my thoughts on these subjects, I am not sure if I can as you are so very good at this.”

[AllWalker]

BSPI's story continues...

Rachel was flushed - whether from an argument, he couldn't say, but she certainly looked... excited. Even from the distance they were keeping they could both see the increased pitch of her breathing, and the sweat lining her forehead.

"Looks like she just got laid," Chris joked.

"I hope so," BSPI said as he donned thick sunglasses and a low hat. "It might make her more approachable. Then again, if she hasn't been getting any for a while, she may respond to my charms more."

Chris shook his head. "You have an answer for everything, don't you?"

He shook his head. "Just darken me a little." He complied, focusing his abilities on the PI's skin, altering the tone. "Okay, I'm going in."

Rachel sat alone, sippin casually at her coffee. She was just starting to check her watch as BSPI sat down beside her. "Can I get you anything?" he asked, his voice a masterful display of confidence and masculinity.

"I am waiting for a friend," she replied. "And I would like to continue waiting alone."

He ignored the brush-off. If she was hungry for power he could not back down, or show weakness for even a moment. "No you don't. You really want me to buy you something, now."

Her eyes flicked up at him, her head cocked to the side. "No. I. Don't. Look, I'd be flattered if you were at all attractive to me, but you are not. You are a creepy stranger who is in my face. Leave me alone before I test one of my more creative castration techniques."

He chuckled. "My interest in you is not romantic, at least not entirely. I have a professional interest in you as well."

She shook her head. "In my experience, men are neither romantic or professional. No if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend." Rachel looked past him and waved towards the door. He turned around, just as one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen walked in. His jaw dropped - she was six feet of blonde hair and curvacious lines, all wrapped up in tight latex and high boots. She walked up to the table, her heels clicking on the hard floor as she swayed her hips.

"Hey gorgeous," she said, placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

"I have to go," Rachel said to BSPI. "My clients need me, you see. Stay away from me." She led the newcomer out the door, their hands occasionally straying into less than professional areas.

"Fuck me," BSPI gasped. "Just who is the client and who is the worker, I wonder?"

[Boozahol Squid, P.I.]

BSPI was flabbergasted. Perhaps this was why he made trips to Canada so sparingly. He needed advice on the next step to take, as this was not a contact he could afford to pass up. A call to Douglas Chan was in order.

[AllWalker]

Caerie's story continues...

Looking into Ella's boytoys turned up exactly nothing - that was all they were, casual flings and money chasers, attracted as much to her bank numbers as her figure. They dug through police records, social security numbers and of course, Facebook. Even Chan found nothing.

"So... she's just a rich skank?"

"No," Caerie replied, "she's a rich skank with an unknown power. Foundation wouldn't be giving her this lifestyle if they didn't think it was a good investment."

Daisy nodded. She was staring at Ella through the binoculars, no doubt hunting for any signs of either weakness or ability. The way her lips were pursed suggested she hadn't found any yet. "She looks like such a bimbo, though. What do you reckon - confront her? Throw a huge chunk of money at her, try to get her talking?"

Caerie sighed. "Yeah, but I don't like it. She is an enemy, after all, and the not knowing concerns me."

*

Ella had ordered a taxi to pick her up. It seemed she was wanting to surpise one of her pieces of man meat. She had prettied herself up, looking classically attractive rather than rich and easy. Not that she had neglected her makeup or jewelry - she was still visibly rich.

She hopped into the taxi that pulled up to the corner where she was waiting. "Just drive," she instructed, "I'll direct you as you go."

"Actually, Miss Campbell, I was hoping we could talk."

Caerie turned around in her seat to face her, just as Daisy joined her in the back seat. "You are you people?" she asked.

"We are friends, I promise. In fact, we want to add to your recent windfall. How much money will it take for you to betray Foundation?"

Ella turned her nose up. "I don't know what Foundation is."

"We know about Foundation, we know about your ability," Caerie lied. "Look, we are on your side. Foundation is out to destroy society, we use people like us, and others, to preserve it."

Ella laughed, a shrill, arrogant noise. "Let me guess - you are that group founded by that scientist, the drunk of a PI and some mystery woman. I know all about you. Why do you insist on preserving society, when under Foundation's rule the superhumans will be elevated above the rest of those... people. When Foundation overthrows the world governments I will be revered as a queen for my abilities. Your petty band will be swept aside."

"Whatever they promised you, Ella, it wont be worth the bloodshed," Caerie stressed. "Let me help, we can protect you. But you need to tell us about the coming war between Foundation and Global Response."

Ella cocked an eyebrow. "Or, I receive a huge bonus from Foundatin for killing one of the Original Three." Caerie went for her gun, but was too slow. Ella spat in her face and dived out of the car before she could level her pistol.

"She's getting away!" Daisy said. "Caerie?"

"Yeah, I heard you, I..." Her head was starting to throb. Ella's spit was hot against her cheek - she tried to wipe it off and missed, her hand crashing into her lap. "Stay back!" she exclaimed as Daisy moved in to help. "Poison. That must be her ability... poison spit," she said with a weak chuckle.

"Oh shit, what do I do? What do I do?!" Daisy was on the verge of panic, thinking through what she had on hand. She had her own ability, to see structure and weakness, plus there was Caerie's ability. They had with them the usual surveilliance stuff, some food and water, a first aid kit... but without knowing what the poison was doing... Ella would know the antidote, but she could not leave Caerie...

She would have to cure her, or at least stabilise her, with what was on hand.

[AllWalker]

What Exit?'s story continues...

"I see that I have impressed you with my abilities," Melissa replied to him. "I am accurate, and you are willing to admit it out loud, even if it does hurt your sensibilities as a sceptic." She sighed, looking around at the lavish hotel room. "You want me to tell you your name? I cannot. You hide your identity from everyone, you indulge in codewords and aliases to the extent where you sometimes forget who you are supposed to be. But a third-rate fake could tell you that.

"And you want to know your future," she added.

"Yes," he replied, "very much."

She made herself comfortable on the lounge, inviting him and Natasha to sit. "You will be disappointed."

"That's okay - I still want to know."

She laughed, shaking her head. "No, that is your future - you will be disappointed. You hold such ambition, and a little too much idealism. Your goals encompass the entire world, and you are so very small. But you don't believe that, do you? In your mind, you are a giant, a god, a messiah. But what you seek to achieve is too great, too much for you."

"Oh?" What Exit? replied. "You know what my goals are?"

"Your goals are altruistic and far reaching," she replied. "A surprisingly rare combination. You wish to save the world. No one person can do that. But, if any one person could, that would be you.

"You fear the people around you, as much as you admire and trust them," she continued. "Your goals being what they are, you imagine that there are traitors close to you. You analyse everyone in your life, even if you don't want to admit it. But," she added forcefully, "you have nothing to fear from this one. This Natasha, she is loyal to you and your cause. She is pure of heart, just as you are pure of mind."

What Exit absorbed this, his head reeling. "Can you tell if anyone close to me will betray me?"

"What Exit?!" Natasha exclaimed. "You don't think anyone close to you is untrustworthy... do you?"

"He is right to ask," Melissa added with a dreamy expression. "At least he believes he is. If his duty is as lofty as he thinks it is, the odds of a traitor are too large to ignore. That is what you think, isn't it? You fear every time I mention betrayal, for you expect it to come at any moment. But I will not tell you who is sinister in your life, for I can not."

What Exit? buried his head in his hands. Everything she was saying had occured to him at some point, that their reckless and rapid recuitment drive was bound to scoop in people with less than solid loyalty. Even the others of the Original Three could not to be assumed to be working towards the same goal... could they?

Natasha snorted. "Don't listen to her. She can't tell the future any more than I can."

Melissa smiled. "Oh? You still doubt my gift? Do I need to bring up the issue of your father, the man missing from your life for so much of it, to -"

"You have an ability, but I don't think you can see the future. A test, if I may." She fished a pen from her hand bag and scribbled on the palm of her hand. "I have a number on my hand. You can read my thoughts to find out what it is, or you can peer into the future, either way is fine. So what is it?"

Her eyes flared up. "I do not need to be tested like some child -"

"You were showing off before. Show off again."

She forced herself to remain calm. "Seven," she answered.

Natasha smiled, revealing the inside of her palm. "32, as you can see. What Exit?, she's not psychic, not exactly. Remember, you told me there are three types of abilities - enhanced senses, body manipulation and elementalists. You can sense the presence of powers, I can sense animal memories and senses, and Melissa can sense emotions."

What Exit? looked up. "Is that true?"

She sneered. "Yes, it's true. I'm a product of the Blackout, as I guess you two are. My abilities are useful, and with some colourful language make me the best psychic in town. But no, I can't predict your future any more than you can - but that doesn't make anything I said untrue. You just knew it already."

He nodded. "Yes, you have been quite helpful. Perhaps you could help me some more?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"Come with me. I need to know if my co-conspirators can be trusted. Only you can do that."

She paused, thinking it over. "I will need a few days to get my things together. Come back then, and you can take me to your friends."

Melissa Davies
Warsaw
Recruitment successful

A few minutes later...

"Hello?"

"Chan, it's me."

"Ah, What Exit?, I was just about to call. I found you a recruit with some firepower, hang on... John Taylor, London, ex-army. He's on route to Tehran, so he'll meet you there."

What Exit? blinked. "Okay, great. Let me know if anyone else turns up."

John Taylor
London
BONUS RECRUIT!