Teal — Roleplayer Guild

To Hell and Back…

Route 101, the most used highway everytime someone wants to get in L.A, was, to no one’s surprise, empty. There were quite a handful of cars driving opposite of him, not that Alec could see anything clearly since he was driving like a cheetah in steroids, but not a single person besides him. Everyone wanted to get out, but no one wanted to get in. He could imagine the reactions of the people over at the opposite lane when they saw a black armored car heading towards the place they were so eager to drive away from.

While Alec maintained a blunt face through most of the trip, there were a lot of thoughts racing through his mind. He already had an idea of what may have happened, but he needed details. He had to scratch that itch and he had to do it fast. After some pondering, Alec extended his hand to grab the phone, which was still at the passenger’s seat. The only contact he had that was closely related to the government was the guy from the registration committee, same one who notified him that his registration process was successful. That was also the only number in his phone. Alec wasn’t as social, and he had all the right reasons to be.

For an aging former-soldier, Alec was depressingly good at multitasking, as he maneuvered his car with his left hand and used his phone with his right one. The contact was labeled as ‘MHRC’. He didn’t know the guy’s name, and he didn’t want to know. All he knew about him is that he works after-hours as a handler for a turf of selected metahumans, a secret job which would get him in jail if his higher-ups found out. He held his phone to his ear and after a couple of beeps, a woman answered. The guy was paranoid and he seemed to have a lot of money, so he prepped up a bunch of security measures, namely a voice recognition software.

“Hi, how can I help you?”, the woman spoke.

Since the ‘woman’ was nothing but merely a software, he didn’t have to answer it's questions. All that came out of Alec’s mouth was a stiff “Hi”, which was more than enough for it to recognize him.

“Voice confirmed! Registered government employee, alias: Lighthouse!”

Shortly after that, a man’s voice was heard

“Speak up! I don’t have time.”, the man mumbled. It didn’t take a deep understanding of rocket science to know he was running away from his bosses.

“I heard an interesting speech being broadcasted in the radio while I was coming here.”, Alec replied, his signature monotone voice ever so present.

“Oh, that. Well, we had some nut who was strapped up with the latest technology and decided it was a good day to stir some shit up. He intercepted a news broadcast and started blaming the heroes for a series of events. The worst part is that he had proof with himself too, so now the entire L.A is out on the streets protesting against the likes of you. Lucky for you, you didn’t make yourself known to the public eye, eh?”

Miller ignored the man’s last remark while he plunged deep into the depths of his mind. “Two days! I left for two days, and this is what happens!”, he thought to himself, his blunt expression now replaced with a rather concerned one.

“Does the government have any idea who that man is?”, he got back to asking questions.

“No. They tried to track the broadcast, but to no avail. This guy’s good and I’m willing to bet my grand salary he has a shitload of funds, since he’s daring to go against not only the government, but lethal superhumans too. Either that, or he has a death wish”

Miller let a soft sigh before asking him one last question; “Has the government given up on him?”

“Reliable sources tell me they haven’t made a step so far. ‘Gave up’ may be a strong word, but they are not going to make any move for now.The fear that this small protest may turn into a revolution overnight is keeping them occupied.”, the man finished his explanation.

“That’s my cue”, Alec murmured before hanging up his phone.

As soon as he hung up his phone, a white van with an angry flock of protesters passed by with most of them dangling down the windows, shouting a load of obscenities. They had a banner sticked by the side of the van that read ‘KILL ALL METAS’. Not very original, but it didn’t fail to deliver the message. At this point, Alec was damn sure the situation would go sour by tomorrow. The only way he could straighten this out was by tracking the man responsible and dragging his ass down the sidewalk ‘till he starts singing. But first, he needed to move downtown to assess the situation. After a couple of lefts and rights, he finally found an ideal spot at an alley. He turned off the engine and reached for his briefcase which was at the backseat. Besides serving as a placeholder for his sniper, pressing the right buttons revealed a hidden compartment within the briefcase. There, he stored his nicely folded opsuit and a pair of suspenders which played the role of a utility belt. He threw his green jacket at the passenger’s seat, revealing a tight grey t-shirt, and put on the suspenders. Alec was right-handed, so his FN Five-Seven pistol rested in the left holster of the suspender, which was positioned near his ribs. The right suspender had a knife sheath instead, where his Tracker was placed.

Then, he put on his jacket back and made sure to button it up to his chest before firing the engine and heading downtown.

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