Maybe some children would be afraid when a black van showed up at their school, and the black suited people inside said get in and there was nothing in their voice that made it a choice. Not Panu. He could sense the chip guns and scanners hiding under their coats. They were SUPER agents, and even though this looked like a kidnapping, Panu was 100% happy to climb in (especially since he was already seventeen minutes tardy for English, and now he had the perfect excuse to not go at all).

The agents had been very very quiet the whole way to their headquarters, with Serious Faces on and only-talking-as-needed. Panu could sit quiet and Serious Face too.

It was two days before his next scheduled meeting with Acceptable Parole Officer Brook, and he knew that no one had told the Mansion where he was going. This could only mean one thing: he was being recruited for top secret classified mission. They had read Officer Brook's report of his excellent support during the bank robbery, and they had realized that if he could be so helpful in such inferior working conditions with no preparations and a co-worker who sent unprofessional texts during missions, then he would clearly be Most Useful Asset Ever on a real, proper, planned-for mission.

They shoved him in a bare room with only a steel table and plastic chairs, and he heard them lock the door on their way out, but this was just Dramatic Prelude. SUPER was semi-villain group, and Panu could appreciate their desire for making a good (evil) impression. He tried to look Very Intimidated for the room's camera.

(It crossed his mind, maybe just briefly, that no one knew where he was and maybe SUPER hadn't liked what he did at the bank, maybe Most Traitorous Parole Officer Brook had written that he was hard to work with or control, and maybe now they would make him Stop Being A Problem in a permanent way. But he deleted this train of thought because—because—because if they did disappear him then they were wasting a rare resource and that would be stupid, so he was safe here. Probably. As long as he was useful.)

(While he was thinking these things, it was much easier to look Very Intimidated.)

They definitely wanted him for mission, that was the only explanation. So to make sure stupid thoughts stayed away, Panu started looking for what the mission was.

Someone had gotten much smarter since the last time he was here: they had put him in a room in the corner of the building, and most computers in his range were turned off. Less at the edges, which told him that probably they didn't know his exact range. Phones were still walking around, carried by people who had forgotten (or maybe ignored) the order to turn them off. The calendars on these told him that there was a meeting that many were going to soon.

If they were being smart about computers, then probably the meeting notes were on paper and even if the room was in range there would be no laptops for him to read. Very very smart.

Panu's Very Intimidated face looked Maybe Smug for just a moment.

Very very smart, except that no one actually hand-wrote briefing notes, so… hello printer on the edge of his range. Hello circular memory buffer. And a very good day to you, previous print files. Big meetings would need many copies, so he ignored the single print jobs and looked for…

Got it.

---

In a meeting room on the opposite end of the building, briefing files sat printed and waiting on the table for the field agents. If they pulled this off, it would be a slam dunk for the fledgling this-side-of-the-rift SUPER's PR; a clean win, bad guys taken down, and SUPER the heroes, and if there happened to be any unfortunate casualties along the way then that it was clearly in the name of public safety.

One of their agents had tracked a chipped mutant back to a factory on the north side of the city. Surveillance over the next few days, and a few knocked heads that would never be formally written of, typed, or spoken off outside of present company, had gleaned the following information:

- The factory was being used to produce a variant of the M-drug. One that produced long-lasting powers; possibly permanent. The group's goal was to target high-ranking officials, and make them confront the discrimination of having an X-gene head-on.

- They'd been kidnapping runaways and homeless people to serve as their guinea pigs.

And, best of all from the PR perspective:

- They'd screwed up. One of those runaways was the daughter of a local news anchor. A angsty teenage really-did-run-away daughter, but one that had been in the news a lot recently. One the public had sympathy for. A face they could care about.

Drugs, political plots, kidnappings, mad science, and more good press than they could pay for, all for the low price of one successful raid.

The only problem (besides the mutants guarding the place, and the scared pseudo-mutants locked up inside) was--

---

They had a tech-controller. Not to be confused with a true technopath. The man in the briefing photograph was old, at least thirty, maybe even forty, practically in his grave. Probably he had spent the first decades of his life not even knowing what a computer was. There was no way he was any match for Panu, who had been making his mother's phone play better music since before he could talk, and could not ever remember being cut off from his power except when there were stupid waste-of-oxygen Adapteds around.

Panu gave up trying to look Very Intimidated. His leg bounced under the table as he read.

The man had stolen a handful of Metabots, which he was using as extra security. Among them was scout dog model number SK-011.

Skoll.

The stupid tech-poser had stolen Panu's dog.

Wick listened intently as he flipped through the brief. This was not his usual mission style, it was important he retained as much information as possible. Faces, names, blueprints, which targets left in body bags, which did not, and which were discretionary. He would not be the one making mistakes. That was the role of the enforcers, as best he could tell, and they looked it. The sorts of people whose GPA did not matter as much as their touchdowns, sat around the briefing room with their boots on tables. Granted, all had been capable of taking either route, else they wouldn't be in SUPER, but their choice said a lot about them.

"These are our primary targets."

Overhead slides. They really were worried about the "asset". Wick looked up at the projected images of a woman, perhaps in her late thirties, well dressed, overweight, and hastily groomed. He would not have needed the dossier to know she was an academic.

"Jenifer Ellis, AKA Doctor Catalyst. American citizen with PhDs in Chemistry, Biology, and Biomedical Sciences. Per your data packet, we want her alive. META surveillance suggests she is a mutant. No indication of her specific mutation, treat with caution. Kappa Five's team is responsible for bringing her in."

Wick nodded his understanding to his superior, who moved on immediately. Up next, a forty year old man who looked like he often forgot to eat, groom, and possibly bathe. T-shirt, cargo shorts, socks, sandals. Certainly did not look like much, but Wick suspected some kind of computer programmer.

"Thomas Zakharovich, Masters degree in Mechatronic engineering. Mutant. He controls tech. Hi-jacked some META units. Long been a domestic terror surveillance target, he's part of what drew us to this location. He leaves in a body bag folks, we don't need anything he has to offer."

The image switched once more. This time to an alien looking, yellow skinned mutant. Elongated skull, snake like slits in place of a nose, drawn out ears that came to points, completely bald, banana yellow. Truly a devil-spawned freak with no shame in the matter. 

"Harold Boyd. Mutant rights activist turned agitator. One of those Xavier's kids who drank a little too much of the kool-aid. Known associate of "The Order" back when they were an active threat. Youngest primary, but the mastermind of this whole plot. Obviously a mutant, and making no attempt to hide it. Beyond the looks, he's also got an array of short range telepathic abilities. As you know, the lab are always interested in the telepaths, so lets try to take him alive. Arrests look better than killings. Take him out the front, we want it public that a Xavier's grad was behind this."

Yes, Xavier's. Wick had been looking for any cracks to bring down that institution. What a world the Lord had delivered him in to, where the devil was so near to winning. They accepted those vigilantes, the X-men. Deputised them. Truly the devil was cunning. His focus had not fully been on Wick's dimension. Now Wick was in this dimension however, and he would not fail the Lord. He would rid it of the devil, and all others that he would doubtless be moved to after.

"Secondary targets." The slide changed. A tattooed and burly Asian man, his face was remarkably unremarkable. Nearly as much so as Wick's own.

"Shiroma Tsuneari. Japanese born mutant. Super speed, clocked at 60 miles per hour, and it would seem that translates to fighting as well as running. History as a gang enforcer, wanted for several homicides, suspected of doing contract work. Shoot on sight. Too much of a risk to make an arrest."

Another change. Ah, the face they all knew. The teenager. She looked the type to throw a tantrum and run away. No true family values to be spoken of, piercings. Wick had to wonder what exactly was in that solo cup.

"The girl, of course. We get her out alive, we look like heroes. Heroics are not as important as assets. I shouldn't have to tell you, but as some of you have children around her age, I will, this is a secondary target. We do not sacrifice primary objectives for secondary objectives. Other than the girl, we're expecting several more prisoners in this facility. Again, alive is preferred, but it's not necessary.If some of them are caught in crossfire, these things happen. No one cared about them before, they're hardly going to start now."

The meeting ran on for some time longer. Routes, floor plans, tactics. Wick soaked it all in and held firmly on to it. He had been asked to stay back after, as the lead on the ground. The agent stood motionless as chairs scraped and papers were shuffled, thrown into shredders. The enforcers shuffled out to go grab their gear, and he may as well have been a statue.

Once the room was otherwise empty, the agent in charge of planning the raid turned to Wick. Brent Mason. A good agent by all accounts. Overly familiar in Wick's opinion. Perhaps he would like the man more outside of work. "Alright Wick, you're lead out there. As such, you're in charge of the asset. No need to ask if you read the dossier, so I'll skip to questions."

"Do we have any clarification on 'Short range' or this blindness?"

"Unfortunately no on both counts. I know you're not keen on working with these kinds of assets Wick, but I really think this one's worth taking."

"If our superiors feel it is worth bringing, and more asset than liability, that is good enough for me."

"Just making sure. Okay, move out, we're on a tight schedule. You'll meet the asset in the vehicle."

"I hope our lockers are Faraday cages. I will make a note to make them so if they are not."


---

The tactical gear felt heavier than he remembered. It had been some time since he had worn the CQB kit, admittedly, but he did question whether the ballistic plates were a different material in this dimension. They also used M4, rather than MP5s. The longer gun felt awkward to hold, and he had fired it only a handful of times. Still, he felt he was adequately competent with it. It was not that much of a change, after all. Wick shrugged in his vest and quadruple checked all his equipment was functioning and attached properly. The voice in his earpiece sounded exasperated. That was unprofessional.

He spotted the "asset" as soon as he entered the vehicle, last in behind his squad of four enforcers. It sat there, like a proper human child, preying on the human compassion for children, insidiously provoking protective instincts. A satanic cuckoo in the nest. A hint of disgust touched Wick's features, but it was brief. "Vehicle one is ready to proceed." Wick took his seat and continued to watch the mutant. He did not trust it even slightly. "Asset previously designated Panu, you are now to respond to Delta 20-27." The number seemed an appropriate Leviticus verse. It summed up his feelings on the matter at the least. "Do you understand?"

There was not even the slightest hint of warmth in his voice.

Another Serious Faced agent had gotten him from the room, and marched him down to the parking garage and into another black van. Black was very classic, but maybe they could try other colors for variety. Somewhere between the room and being told to sit-stay on a van seat, he was given a little earbud radio which was already tuned to the channel of his team. This made him Real Member, and also showed that someone had read Agent Brook's report and maybe seen Panu's comment about needing a better way to communicate in the field. He could use all tech in best ways, but other people were limited to stupid things like 'read from screen' and 'type output on tiny keyboard with their thick meat-fingers'.

The radio crackled with people checking their connections, quick words and quick acknowledgements, except for one guy who kept checking again and again like he was a dog chewing peanut butter. Panu did not touch the controls, and there were a lot of people he didn't know so he did not talk, but he quickly sent a quiet chord of Sibelius' Finlandia through and then made it stop again. Yes, his connection was also good.

He watched on parking garages' cameras, and also the phone camera hanging around his neck, as his new team filed in. They were very impressive, like two of him stacked on top of each other to make height and four of him shoved side-by-side to make shoulders that wide. The way they were dressed made SWAT teams looked like delicate ballerinas.

…Should he have a fancy bullet-proof vest, too? Because everyone else had one, and they had put him in vans like he would be going to the same place.

Probably they just didn't care if he was shoot. That was fair; new teammates were like baby mice playing in a pet store. Maybe they were very cute, but at least some would be feed to snakes, that was how the world works and there was no use getting attached to something until you were sure it was staying. Panu would just have to prove that he was the Most Useful Teammate Ever, and then they would protect him better next time.

For now, he sat up straight with his hands in his lap and met the skeptical stares of his fellow van-mates with polite nods.

And then the world went black.

It started from somewhere back in the building, a place where most things had been turned off already so he hadn't noticed. But it moved down the hallways, eating cameras in its wake, coming closer and closer to the parking garage like a nightmare where lights turn off one by one and suddenly you are left in total darkness with only the monster unseen.

The garage cameras cut out. Footsteps over concrete. Then Panu's phone, and all the rest of the world. All the little electric signals that made up his world went numb and dead.

The van sank very slightly as one last weight entered. The seat creaked under it. The Finn sat very very still and looked only straight ahead and tucked his hands between his knees so they would not ball into fists, so they would not shake.

Adapted.

>> "Vehicle one is ready to proceed."

The Adapted sounded like a man, but really it was a black hole in orderly reality, it was spilled ink, it was the black ash after a fire had destroyed everything good, a demon nine-feet wide that ate everything it touched and he didn't know how anyone could ever think it was just a man.

Panu did not nod to it.

>> "Asset previously designated Panu, you are now to respond to Delta 20-27."

That isn't my designation, it's my name, good job reading the file.

No, bad, he couldn't say that.

Delta 20-27 is too long for a call name and whatever meme you are referencing is probably only funny to old men who need vacations and girlfriends.

Bad, no, even worse.

The man talked like he was a boss, he—

He was the idiot from the comm-check!

Agggh, he was stupid with technology even before he shut everything off (not off-off, but off so that Panu couldn't touch it, which was like the same thing).

And now Panu was taking too long to reply, he knew he was, quick just say something that won't be trouble--

"Yes sir. Understand."

Ahhh his voice was tiny and his accent was even stronger than usual and he could feel his face getting warmer and warmer, this was terrible first impression. (Not that he wanted to make a good impression if the boss was an Adapted.) (But if boss was Adapted, he had to.)

The van started to move. Panu couldn't see, but he could feel the engine rumble. The first corner took him by surprise and he accidentally bumped shoulders with the person next to him, so he sat Very Stiff and planted his feet on the floor so that he didn't sway with the car anymore. Much.

This was official first mission. Not everyone at SUPER was an Adapted. He needed to be Better Man and make a good impression, so that other not-genetic-backwash people might also use him.

He turned his head towards where he remembered the Black Stain's voice coming from, and squared his shoulders, and tried to ask important-but-not-time-wasting questions.

"Sir, what is mission, please?" He wanted to ask about the objectives and parameters and acceptable force levels (especially when soon he would have Metabots to play with), but he suddenly wasn't sure if he remembered those words in English, and trying to use the dictionary he'd downloaded into his head made him wince like there were gears grinding into his brain cells. Oww. He rubbed his head, and used idiot words instead. If they wanted him smart, they should not have sat him in the same van as the Walking Lobotomy Field. "Goal? My power is very useful, am I decide where to make useful or do you have orders? Do we hurt anyone?"

He had read the same briefing as they had, but he did not want to admit to that.

Also he did not want to admit, even a little, that the kill order on his fellow tech-mutant made him nervous. The man's power was clearly not as good as Panu's, and maybe they thought they didn't need an inferior spare, but it seemed maybe a little… wasteful. To just say "kill him, we don't need him at all" instead of "kill him if you have to." The man could be useful.

The Adapted's voice did not sound like he cared about mutants being useful. Especially not little ones sitting in front of him.

The truck jolted as it rolled off the mark. They were five minutes out, provided no accidents along the way. If things went according to plan they would encounter only green lights all the way. Their police escort had joined them at the first intersection. They would remain with the convoy up to the final two blocks. It was honestly quite the opposite of their usual secretive nature. Wick took the opportunity to bow his head and offer a silent prayer for the good men and women about to put their lives on the line for the safety of their country.

Holy Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke ...

"Sir, what is mission, please?"

Wicks jaw tightened. The devil spawn could sense his prayer. It sought to distract him away. So it revealed its truth, where none else would know. It taunted him. It tried to tempt him to kill it. It knew it was to be used as a weapon against its own, and an effective weapon, or else why would his superiors risk its use? Yes, it sensed what was to come, and the presence of an angel to receive his prayer, and it quailed. That was the truth of it. It would not deny the good humans on this mission the protection of God and his Archangel Michael.

May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do you, O Prince of the heavenly host, 

[/span]"Goal? My power is very useful, am I decide where to make useful or do you have orders? Do we hurt anyone?"

Wick did not let his wrath stop his prayer. He would not be distracted by the devil in this. He was an instrument of God, denying the devil his unholy power. So too must his mind deny the devil the purchase of temptation and sin.

O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.[/i][/span]

The agent raised his, flames of hatred flickering in them, to see the enemy he was forced to work with. He did not relish having to speak to the devil, or his host of demons, but it was necessary. He would not, through his silence, allow the creature to bring harm to the mission, or aide its kin to escape. His would not be the silence that gave it free reign to do as it pleased. 

"Much of that is need to know, and you do not have clearance. You are to provide surveillance for the teams in the building and make sure none of them, or us, walk into any traps, ambushes, or other surprises, and that none of our teams are caught unaware by an attack from behind. Should you take control of any technology with combat applications, you are to subdue and capture opponents. You are not to kill anyone unless it is absolutely necessary to preserve the life or lives of SUPER agents. We understand there are META assets in the building. If you are able, return them to their normal operating parameters, make them accept our RFID beacons as friendly, then have the META remain within eight feet of me."

Some of the Enforcers were giving him odd looks. Even under the masks he could tell. Body language was a vital thing for a spy to read, and most of them looked either confused or exasperated. Perhaps they still viewed the asset as a child, but it was a demon within a child's body. Wick met each and every one of their eyes with his own, unwavering. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"No sir."

The unison of intimidation and good training. He hoped their discipline held.

The Adapted was ignoring him. Panu was almost 100% sure of this. Either that or maybe the man was having a very quiet epileptic fit which Panu couldn't see because Adapted.

AKA the man was taking so long to reply. Panu wanted to start a timer, but oww oww oww that was apparently something he had downloaded and not a normal part of the human brain, how did anyone ever deal with annoying people if they couldn't even passive-aggressively time how long the person was being stupid for? Maybe this was some kind of test of whether he was a Bratty Child and would push for answers even when he'd clearly been heard (but had he been heard? He didn't know because no one was saying anything and he couldn't see because Adapted.) In any case he would sit still and not pester the Black Hole because he was a professional.

He was focused so hard on sitting still, that maybe he jumped a little when the man did talk. And then he was extra still, because he was trying to understand, and suddenly he realized this was the first conversation he'd had in two years without a translator to fall back on and there were so many words he didn't know, English was the worst, he would have to replay this at least three times just to—

He couldn't replay. He wasn't even recording audio right now. His files of this whole ride were non-existent, just stupid no-one-even-knows-how-this-works memories floating around his organic brain, Because Adapted.

Panu did not have clearance (what was clearance? It seemed to mean that he couldn't be told everything, but that was stupid because how else could he--ahhhh the man was still talking!)

No traps, okay. He did not know "ambushes", but no surprises at all. The Finn nodded very firmly. He could do no surprises, as long as there were good cameras around.

"Subdue" he did not know, but control technology and capture opponents he did. Okay.

METAs, okay, Panu also understood that they were in building (why was that a thing that needed understanding? They were or they weren't, understanding didn't change—-ahhh still talking ahhh—)

Okay. The man was maybe done throwing words at him now. Panu was not sure he had gotten everything, but main point seemed to be "do useful things with your power." Which is what he would already have done. That was a lot of words to say "do the thing", the order equivalent of four comm-checks. Probably this man was the sort to have a spare roll of toilet paper sitting next to his dispenser even though there was a whole pack under the toilet already. Much show of being prepared without actually being more prepared.

>> "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

>> "No sir."

...Panu knew he had just missed something, but he did not know what. It was something that made the Adapted's voice sound like silk over wolf fur, and made the man sitting next to Panu stiffen (Panu had tried to make himself as small in the seat as possible, but the men were big and they took up every centimeter of extra room he gave them, like water filling the bottom of a bowl, and he couldn't get the space back after he'd given it up). The silence in the van was like another layer of dark pulled over everyone, a tense layer that almost he could feel, and he did not want to poke at it but Mission Effectiveness was on the line.

"Sir? I am most useful if I am have time to see and make... ah, make things for prepare? Before team goes in. Time where you are not next to me like Dark Cloud of Nothing. Sorry, my English also will be better when you are not turn off my brain. Also if you have pictures of targets, even if I do not have… clearance? Even if no clearance to know who they are, I can see if they are near camera."

The van stopped. Panu pitched forward a little, because he was a fool and had let down his guard just because they had been going straight for so awhile. He could hear other vehicles behind them, and doors opening. Probably there were at target location.

"If you could please go away now, Sir," the technopath suggested, as politely as he could manage, which was maybe less polite than he could have managed five minutes ago but more polite than if he had to sit in Blackout Aura for another five.

Ah yes, the translation application was non-functional in Wick's Holy Aura. While he would normally be fine with having a linguistic edge over a devil of such dangerous capability, it was important for the mission that he at least let it operate. He did not have to like it. "You will have time to prepare as we are approaching and preparing to breach. Your first priority should be in making sure their external cameras never see us coming. You will have two minutes thirty four seconds between my exiting the vehicle and my entering the building as long as everything goes according to plan. It likely will not. Do not waste time. Jasper, you are first out, and I can see your mission briefing packet sticking out of your belt, not properly destroyed. Once you reach cover, please show your helmet camera the relevant photos. Tear them out now, and leave that document in the vehicle's cabin."

The van came to a sudden halt a short and tense minute later. Wick's men were piling out of the van before it had fully stopped.

>>"If you could please go away now, Sir,"

The Agent calmly stood and followed the final man out without a word. He pushed away the anger polluting his mind. The creature was trying to cloud his judgement, to subtly sabotage him. It obviously did not know who it was dealing with. The agent strode purposefully towards his cover position. Jasper was already on the radio, running down mission critical information for each target. His reprimand would reflect his immediate return to protocol.

As he moved, he observed the building, not for the first time. No external guards, as they had noted before. No new cameras, though he had no way of knowing if the asset had taken control of those yet. The factory was a rather boringly imposing metal structure, few external features, windows all frosted, a clear office section to the East, loading bay South West, three other entrances scattered around the building. It appeared on the outside like any other factory. Inside they were expecting it to have been converted into an entire facility and headquarters for the group within.

Kappa Five fell in at the rear of his squad. Each of the other four squad leads checked off that they were in place. Right on schedule. "Squad one in place. All squads set charges." Five men dashed from cover to their entrances, large, flat, rectangular breaching charges in hand. As they were not overly concerned with the welfare of those within, they were not taking chances with the breach. The charges would have torn through the walls, the doors stood no chance. Squad leaders sounded off.

"All charges set. Prepare to breach on my command. Delta 20-27, report."

Panu mostly stopped listening to the Adapted when he realized that the man was telling him how to technopath. Also he was still talking way to fast. Also he clearly knew that Panu needed his translator, and was still talking that much, so it was his own fault if Panu missed things totally-on-accident.

Someone opened their own van's door with a crack, and boots hit pavement, and a few loud steps later—

OWW

--the world came back like it had been pressing in at the edges the whole time and now slammed back together all at once and his brain was caught in the middle and—

and—

ha.

hahahaha—

Panu's laughter was not so loud, but anyone still close to the van would probably have heard it.

There was definitely, 100%, no mistake another techcontroller in that building. One that was Amazing Egotist. One who thought his power made him Special Butterfly. One who did not think that ever it would be used against him.

There were cameras everywhere. All the better to see you with. Weapons, too. And METAs, and electric locks, and up in an office on the second floor was a very awesome gaming computer with--with—

hahahaha!

A very expensive, deluxe, high-performance mouse. Mr. Thomas Zakharovich needed a mouse. This was going to be hilarious fight, like a bully holding a toddler at bay with a hand to the forehead. For once, Panu was not the toddler. It felt very very good to be one with All The Power.

Panu's head was feeling much better now. He set to work. And maybe his messages were a little giddier than usual, and maybe he showed off a little, but what was the point of having Best Power Ever if he couldn't show how awesome it was?

>> "All charges set. Prepare to breach on my command. Delta 20-27, report."

"Thank you for waiting, this is Delta 20-27 reporting, I will be your IT support this mission. All cameras are set to one-minute loop because I was not given time enough to set up most excellent real-time erasure of images. Everyone who brought phones on mission even though probably you shouldn't have, you have real time map of building layout and target locations. Recommend in future that all operatives working with asset Delta 20-27 carry phones as standard. For now please identify yourselves to your team leaders and share."

(Some of these targets, the astute observer may have noticed, were not ones Jasper had gotten around to briefing him on. They may have further observed that the layout used in his map was an exact copy of the architectural plans from the briefing, and that the targets marked covered nearly the entire facility. There were two corners outside of his 100 yard range, but anyone expecting 'short range' might have quickly realized that Panu may have fudged the adjectives in his official report when describing his power to his last parole officer.)

(Panu himself did not notice these things, but probably he would later when he was not still trying hard to not laugh on the comms. After laughter would come regret. But not now.)

"To Mr. Adapted Commander of Team 1, be advised that there are wall-mounted weapons which I will lose control of when you are too close. They appear to be automated and two minutes thirty-four seconds is not enough time to reprogram. Recommend everyone who does not want holes in them to stand outside of Adapted field range. Range will be clearly marked by bullet holes, thank you for cooperate.

"Also, probably safe to assume everything electronic including this transmission is as easy to compromise by Mr. Zakharovich as by me, and you do not know my voice well enough to tell if he is running simulator, so try not to trust things too much now that he knows I am here and has samples of voice.

"To Mr. Zakharovich, if you can hear this: Good afternoon, this is asset codename Delta 20-27, which is super long impractical call sign, so you may please to call me Joutsen. Next I am target your METAs, so please put up token fight. Thank you."

This was going to be so fun.

If Agent Wick had not been so out of his operational comfort zone, he may well have allowed himself the annoyance that he felt bubbling dimly in the edges of his mind. His report would most certainly detail the broadcasting of mission critical information on compromised frequencies. It would also mention clear lack of respect for authority, and immaturity potentially disrupting the operation. Until the asset could be reprogrammed, it should not be employed, and would be better suited as a lab experiment than a mission asset.

It would also note Schwartz's bringing of a mobile device on a mission with a known tech-mutant as a priority target. There would be a reprimand regardless of usefulness. Wick took the phone without a word, but with a deadly look. Schwartz, standing six inches taller than Wick, and of considerably larger build, made sure to avoid the Agent's gaze.

"Green light, breach."

The detonations could be felt deep in the chest. The frosted windows rained out of their frames as the teams raced forward. Wick now truly felt the weight of the gear, the ballistic plates bouncing their weight against his shoulders. Teams stacked up beside their doors and then piled in. Shouts of directions into microphones were underlined by gunfire, and the final pieces of debris coming to rest. Wick strode confidently in at the back of his squad as the radio crackled with "clear"s. The Agent glanced at the phone screen, and noted it had not updated. That was inconvenient. "Schwartz, take this back and keep ahead of me where possible." Wick tossed the phone back and stepped away.

"Same positions sir. Five then one right, two then three straight."

"All squads proceed as planned. Explosives at own discretion." He nodded to his own squads and pointed right. 

"Stun out!"

A pause, a bang, team one moved in with a burst of gunfire.

"Clear"

Team two fell in, followed by Wick, straight through the next door. One man, hands in the air, on his knees. Human in appearance. He was quickly and roughly detained by the entering team one. The room was clear and secure, they moved forward. Momentum was key. His squad had to establish control over the offices fast, it was where they expected the most evidence. Wick followed team two into the next room and moved to his domination point. Empty. It had not been previously. "Schwartz, report."

"They've fallen back two rooms. Wall mounted element present. META coming this way."

Wick thought fast. He couldn't approach the turret without endangering his squad. He would have to risk the META. "Team two proceed and hold, team one frag and clear the reinforced room. Delta 20-27, META sit-rep." His men were already moving. The next room was indeed clear. The door beyond was open. Gunfire burst through it at them, but team one was right on their heels. Huang's vest absorbed two rounds before the frag grenade detonated and team one spilled in. The exchange was short.

Seconds later a META knight charged in behind team two.