Liberators #3 – Tempus Fugit
Orion Maximum Security Prison, Peloponnese Greece
“You're a monster.” Agent Emma Roberts screamed as she stormed out of the interview room, the door left ajar to reveal an identical duplicate chained to a chair. Heading down the corridor she came to a guard post and saw the two mechanical robot sentries each armed with a four foot long taser stave, budging past she failed to detect one of the droids lash out and tap her on the neck until electricity ran down her back. Dropping to the floor her body shifted and became more masculine with a blank face.
“Prisoner #02737 AKA The Face you are in violation of your detention order.” The guard croaked as it picked Face up and carried him back to the Interview Room. “You will return the clothing you took from Agent Roberts and submit to full length questioning.”
“Can't blame a guy for trying right?” The Face asked as he stripped and threw the clothes at Roberts. “Thanks for the walk around, I haven't had one for ages. After the thing with Farrell they haven't risked putting me in the exercise yard with the general population.”
“No problem.” Roberts purred. “Now where were we?”
“Ah yes Madagascar, see after I abseiled into the Manambolo Chasm I was captured by this lost cult; The Order of the Chameleon. Anyway they blessed me with the ability to shapeshift into any person I've ever seen.” The Face announced. “Although the ceremony involved more blood letting and scarification then I really care about.”
“I find scars really hot.” Roberts purred as she twisted a strand of blonde hair around her finger.
“I bet you do baby.” The Face replied. “Anything else you want to know?”
“You’re crew tell me about them.” Roberts asked in a seductive tone.
“Well you will have seen the files, rap sheets and mug shots.” The Face announced. “Let’s see Huntsman was my second in command, Tempus ran fast, Prometheus had an artistic soul, Cicada liked to make noise, Phage never really spoke, Trailblazer was our big muscle guy, Cipicati had a monster vibe going on , Harvest smelled of wheat and then there was Celina…”
“Tell me about her?” Roberts asked.
“She was smart, beautiful, vengeful and unlike you she didn't fake affection to get answers out of me.” Face stated. “I went on enough pity dates to know when somebody is faking Agent Roberts. The whole ‘being into bad guys’ thing needs work, most of those types are bad themselves. There were three things that gave you away; Number One; you were a little too eager to be handcuffed when we swapped places, you didn't make a game of it, Number Two: I recognised the ring you were wearing as a purity band, now going on age, physical makeup etc I can conclude you were rapped in your late teens to which as a fellow rape victim I offer my condolences and finally…” He stopped and rubbed his head. “…you didn't want to do it. I know about Ian McNair, the head of the World Security Agency, and his deviant mind, hell I pretended to be him for a year, I know all about the threats he makes, the ones where you're family gets killed by a rogue super villain if you don't seduce a suspect into spilling his guts”
“I’m sorry. He said that he'd kill my mum if I couldn't…”
“Here’s some advice from me to you: go home, have some coco and tomorrow morning march into IA and tell them what you told me.” The Face ordered. "They work for the Liberty Legion and they'll add her to a watch list of McNair's potential targets."
“You think they'd listen to me?” Roberts asked. Face nodded and she smiled nervously before leaving the room. Drumming his fingers on the table the Face looked up at the nearest camera and formed a single hazel eye on his face and winked. “That’s three down, how many more will you have to send before you realise I can't be broken McNair?”
**
Borgia Estate outside Siena, Italy
The dining hall of Casa di Ombre was lined with dark wood floors and wall mounted tapestries depicting the infamous Cesare and Lucrezia Borgia and their dark deeds they committed before their deaths. The men and women gathered inside were no less black hearted and like the Borgias; ambitious and converting a lust for power. Looking across the eight figures Face smiled, he and Huntsman had managed to get a wide range of power sets and talents for the upcoming coup. “Firstly I want to thank our host Miss Celina Borgia,” He stated before winking at the woman dressed in a forest green dress, her red hair burning like a torch in the low light, “for the use of her home.” There was a small murmuring from the rest of the crowd, Celina’s reputation as an ex girlfriend of Dr Sanctuary and her brief stint of the Liberty Legion made most criminals avoid the sorceress but Face was confident that she like the others were fully onboard with the outline he had sent them.
“You all have seen the brief, my proposal to rid us of the entropy of the cycle of release and re-incarceration.” The Face announced. “And the case study of the Black Prince's takeover of Costa Sangre.”
“We have.” A massive man with titanium armour for skin, his eyes burning red in the low light stated. “I don't agree with the concept of the rape of nations, what you purpose is warfare and as a man who's seen conflict I am against the senseless persecution of civilians that rides alongside the horseman.”
“Trailblazer right?” Huntsman asked, “We have no ill intent against the civilian population or, for the most part, the armed forces of Costa Sangre. This isn't akin to the invasion of Kuwait; this is a surgical strike against the leadership.”
“Trailblazer has a point.” A second man, this one wearing a full ballistic suit of armour spray painted cobalt blue and accented with white lightning bolts. “In the future I learned about an attack on Costa Sangre that triggered a global conflict, one that reshaped the world.”
“Did you by any chance learn who was responsible for the attack Tempus?” Face asked. “And if the strike was a success.”
“No.” Tempus replied. “This whole thing reeks worse then Phage though.” He added before jabbing a finger at the bulky hazardous material suit that glowed with an eerie green light in the corner. “This feels like a sting, any minute now First Response is going to come through that door and arrest us.”
“Check if you must.” Celina purred in her Italian accented voice. “But I know my home and all who stand inside it.” Tempus bowed his head before leaping forward, the whole room freezing behind him. Taking a deep breath he ran off and checked every room and the perimeter of the house before returning back to the dining room and leaping forward again, the entire room unfreezing as a blue contrail faded behind him.
“Everything check out?” Face asked.
“It took me two chrono-hours but I didn't find a thing that suggests this is a sting operation by the WSA.” Tempus panted. “It doesn’t alleviate my concerns about the repercussions of your intended actions.”
“I have a question.” A hoarse voice asked from the back of the room. “If your takeover succeeds what plans do you have for the nation of Costa Sangre.” Face squinted and saw the speaker, hooded and emaciated with a bony yellow skinned hand clutching a sickle.
“Well Harvest I’m not sure. I guess rule it. I don't plan to attack the world just hide from it.” Face answered. “I’m not sure if that’s the answer you wanted but that’s the one I’m giving.”
“Talk of victory is all good and well!” A new speaker boomed, the room shaking thanks to the sonic amplifiers built into her armoured insect like battle suit. “But first you must take the nation and secure it. There has been little satellite coverage of Costa Sangre since the Black Prince’s takeover, little media coverage and ever since the Prince illegally annexed part of Chile, the borders have been closed. We may have power, brains and luck but those things matter little when you have no idea what you're facing or where everything is.”
“Cicada is right.” Huntsman whispered to Face. “It is akin to suicide. They'll need more to go on then a crazy plan, we need maps and equipment to pull this off.”
“There may be one map available.” A voice from the crowd stated. Face and Huntsman looked at the speaker, the monstrous Cipicati ; his body formed from a hybrid of stingray, serpentine and sawfish features all arranged across the corpse of a dead man. “When I rolled with the children of Xibalba we stole a relic from the Pyramidion, that super library where the Bibliophile gathers information for heroes. There will be maps there, old ones but still useful.”
“We have a plan.” The Face sighed. “If you’re in meet me in South Korea if five days, if you’re not no hard feelings. It’s really about to happen.” He added. “It’s time to liberate Costa Sangre.”
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