August Writing Challenge: The What-If Machine

[Admin!]

It's writing challenge time! To enter, just post a ficlet (300-4000 words suggested) in this thread. When the voting for this month's OTM winners comes around, a voting poll will go up for this as well.

The Challenge: What if the head of recruiting was actually an alien? What if Cobalt was 500 ft tall? Do you have a ridiculous situation? Here's your chance to write these stories. Pull a What-If situation off of this list and have fun. Your What-If must come from the list, and you may not use one you submitted.

If you have a What-If, PM it to me! I'll add it to the list.

The rules:

• Characters must be in Hammel canon, but the ficlets are not site canon unless expressly stated.
  
• Entries must be more than 300 words.
  
• You can enter no more than three stories. Any ficlets posted after the original 3 will not be considered for voting. If you want to post more, however, have fun.
  
• Ficlets must be titled.
  
• You may not use a what-if you submitted.

Asked by Kayla:
What if everyone were mermaids/men?
What if everyone's gender were swapped?
What if Operation Patriot took over the Institute?
What if Operation Patriot's real goal was to give everyone a hug?
What if everyone's orientation were switched?
What if everyone adult (ages 20+) became teenager and everyone teenager (12+) became adult?

Asked by Sean
What if Pilot Ridge was attacked by zombies?
What if one of the Hammel characters was cryogenically frozen for a thousand years?
What if the GMC were women?
What if the Hammel Institute turned into a musical?
What if the Babyverse babies had shenanigans at the town prom?
What if the meta-human/baseline human war actually happened?
What if Hammel took place in the Victorian era?
What if Levi-vision was right and all of the other characters were what he saw them as?
What if Hammel characters were actually talking animals?
What if the adults turned into children and the children turned into adults?

Asked by Nanners
What if all the anti-meta suddenly all were meta themselves?
What if Sean was the new leader of MSAD?
What if the LaRousse family took over Hammel?
What if everyone at Hammel woke up missing a limb?

Asked by Apollo
What if Hammel was a medieval fantasy?
What if Dr. Sean Neville was a penguin?
What if Hammel had a Hunger Games competition?
What if Hammel visited Hogwarts?
What if all the Hammel characters suddenly became aware of their play by positions in life? (i.e. Sean would realize he's Liam Neeson, Evan would realize he's Andrew Garfield, etc.)
What if Hammel met the X-Men?

[Terrowin Guthrie]

Hammel: The Musical

“The hills are alive with the sound of music,
With songs they have sung for a thousand years.
The hills fill my heart with the sound of music,
My heart wants to sing every song it hears.”

Sean gazed out his window from his office, smiling quietly to himself. The sun was rising, birds were singing – it was going to be a beautiful day. A Sunday – the day of rest. Or so many people thought. At Hammel, there was no such thing as a day of rest. There was always something going on, always drama and new experiences to be had. Who knew what adventures and stories would be created before the night came?

---------------------------------

“Popular! You’re gonna be popular!
I'll teach you the proper ploys,
When you talk to boys (or girls, rather),
Little ways to flirt and flounce.
I'll show you what shoes to wear,
How to fix your hair,
Everything that really counts!”

Brendan clapped and danced around Eugene on the stage of The Globe, singing as loudly and energetically as possible. When the verse was over, he paused in front of his friend, eying him up and down. “Yes, don’t you look marvelous!” he cried, flinging a dramatic hand towards him. He had dressed Eugene in what he deemed proper attire – some nice-fitting slacks, a long-sleeved button up, and even a nice little vest he had managed to find that fit Eugene’s long, slender form. Eugene felt like a turkey being dressed up to roast.

“Are… Are you sure this looks right?” he stuttered, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

“Stop that, you’re going to ruin the look!” Brendan chided, slapping his hand away. “Yes, it looks perfect. And your hair… Much better!” He had finally managed to drag Eugene to the salon to get a trim, after much begging and pleading against it. His tall friend was now sporting a shorter, more ‘manly’ look than his normal curls, and Eugene couldn’t help but feel exposed without them.

“I don’t know…” he began, but Brendan hushed him, flailing his hands around dramatically.

“Stop doubting yourself! You’re going to get tons of chicks this way. Trust me.” He winked. Eugene had learned never to trust him when he winked. Well, he had learned never really to trust him in general. But Eugene was such a pansy, that he couldn’t say no to Brendan’s plea to get him to go to some fancy party. Who would even invite Brendan to a fancy party? It made no sense. He almost felt like he was in some sort of comedic play – the awkward, gangly nerd, on his way to a magical ball where he would meet and fall in love with the love of his life. Yeah, right.

“To be popular,
I'll help you be popular!
You'll hang with the right cohorts,
You'll be good at sports (well, I actually doubt that),
Know the slang you've got to know.
So let's start!
'Cause you've got an awfully long way to gooooo~!”

“Please stop singing,” Eugene begged as Brendan dragged him out the door.

---------------------------------

“Oh, bother.” Ravyn grumbled to herself, flinging closed her diary and tossing it against the wall with a huff. “Stupid thing, writing doesn’t help my feelings.” She sighed. Between Cameron and the Raines twins, her romantic life was one big mess. On the one hand, she had a fresh new experience to try – Gabriel and Uriel were sweet, gentlemanly, and hilarious. She would love to get to know them better, to know more about their life and see what they were like behind their gestalt-pair label. Romance was a possibility, she knew. And it would probably be a sweet, slow romance that would leave her heart soaring and make her want more. It sounded quite nice.

But then there was Cameron.

Cameron, her first real flame. The biggest part of her life outside of her family, the first guy to tell her he loved her and she felt he truly meant it. They had had a wonderful ride, living off of adrenaline rushes and mad make-out sessions until she was dizzy. All until the day she had broken her wing, realized how dangerous they could be for each other, and forced herself to end the relationship… For the most part. Sure, they still occasionally hooked up. It was what teenagers did. But now that she had someone else in her radar, Cameron was beginning to haunt her mind. She couldn’t drop the feeling that she was betraying him by seeing someone else, even though they hadn’t officially been together for a while. Oh, being a girl was such a bother sometimes.

“No chance, no way, I won’t say it, no no,” she hummed, picking up her hairbrush and pulling it half-heartedly through her hair. She sighed. “You swoon, you sigh, why deny it? Oh, oh.” She didn’t even know which of them she was thinking about now. “It’s too cliché, I won’t say I’m in love.” She spun about, tripping over her own feet and ending up crashing to her butt on the floor. She gaped for a moment, then began laughing. “At least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love,” she ended, giggling.

The lights flared dramatically, and she leaped to her feet and dashed out the door to her dorm. Whatever happened, she was going to leave her heart open and follow it where it lead her.

-----------------------

The evening was warm, dry, and just beginning to fade into nighttime. Terrowin had decided to take a stroll around the edge of the pond, to get away from the school for a little while and just spend some time by himself.

Little did he know that only a few hundred feet ahead, Kateri had had the same idea. She, too, was wandering around the lake, admiring the way the colors of the sunset reflected off the water.

From the bushes, Janice watched them gleefully.

As Terrowin got closer to where Kateri stood, still not seeing her but almost within sight, the spying woman began to sing.

“Caaan you feeeel the loooove tonight~? The peace the evening brings~” she began. Terrowin looked around in bewilderment, but soon his attention was distracted when he finally caught sight of Kat. God, she looked so beautiful in the dying sunlight, he thought. The way her red hair matched the hues of crimson in the sky, the way she stood against the rainbow of colors to the west. She was beauty incarnate. Not saying a word, he quietly walked over to where she stood.

“The world for once, in perfect harmony, with all its living things!” Janice continued. Like he was in a trance, Terrowin trailed after her voice.

“So many things to tell her, but how to make her see?
The truth about my past? Impossible.
She’d turn away from me…”

It didn’t even really make sense. But the lyrics seemed to work their magic, and Kateri, without turning around, continued,

“He’s holding back, he’s hiding.
But what I can’t decide,
Why won’t he be the king I know he is?
The king I see inside…”

Then she turned, and the world melted around Terrowin, leaving nothing but her in his vision. She was all that mattered in life; he loved her completely, with his entire being. Why had it taken him so long to realize it?

He ran to her then, and before he knew it they were wrapped in each other’s arms, both of them continuing,

“Can you feel the love tonight?
You needn’t look too far.
Stealing through the night’s uncertainties,
Love is where we are.”

Janice chuckled quietly to herself. Her work was done.

----------------------

Juniper skipped amidst a field of wildflowers, grinning from ear to ear. She had a picnic basket draped over one arm, and had already laid down a blanket in preparation for the night. This was Eddie’s idea, surprisingly – a night under the stars, eating the fruits of summer and talking about whatever came to mind. It was their first official date, and Juniper was over the moon with excitement. She liked Eddie a lot.

Soon he appeared, and she couldn’t help it – she set the basket on the ground and leapt at him with her arms open. He laughed, catching her and hugging her for a moment before setting her back on the ground. “You’re energetic tonight,” he told her with a smile. She laughed in reply.

“I’m on my first date, Eddie. Of course I’m excited.”

Soon the food was set out, and Juniper laid back, waiting for the first shooting star to appear. They talked about school and friends and life, nothing too terribly serious, but enjoyable all the same. There came a moment when they both went silent, and that was when the first shooting star crossed the sky.
Juniper closed her eyes and made a wish.

She opened them to Eddie humming something that sounded familiar. She glanced over at him, curious.

Eddie didn’t stop. He began to sing.

“I can show you the world.
Shining, shimmering, splendid.
Tell me, Junebug, now when did you last let your heart decide?”

He continued on, and Juniper just stared at him, grinning. Soon, he reached the chorus, and on cue, the crickets starting singing along.

“A whole new world,
A new fantastic point of view.
No one to tell us no,
Or where to go,
Or say we’re only dreaming.”

Juniper took the lead.

“A whole new world,
A dazzling place I never knew.
But now from way up here,
It’s crystal clear
That now I’m in a whole new world with you.”

They trailed off, and Juniper sat up, gripping the edge of the blanket like it was a flying carpet. “Thanks for tonight, Eddie,” she told him shyly.

He sat up then, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder affectionately. “Thank you, Juniper,” he murmured, leaning in to end the night with a kiss….

-------------------------

“So long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, goodnight.
I hate to go and leave this pretty sight.”

Sean gave his last good byes to the day, before turning out the light and casting everything into comforting darkness.


((OOC: Credits to Sean, Lugia, Panda, Kayla, and Cuppy - I hope using your characters was alright ))

[Jeffrey Dougal]

What if Hammel visited Hogwarts?
What indeed?

There was a rumor percolating through the halls of Hammel. An elite bunch of students were being picked....well maybe not 'elite.' Four students were chosen to represent Hammel in a tournament that would take them across the world to a remote school in England, that like Hammel, helps special students. The only difference? The students they were going to visit aren't classified as 'meta.'

The proposition came from a very ancient man, his beard nearly as long as he was--at least that was what some of the students said about him that saw him--who just appeared one day out of the blue. He already had a list of students that would go with him; Vincent Verax, to represent the Lion; Jeffrey Dougal to represent the Badger; Willow Birdsong to represent the Raven; and Rhett Goddard to represent the Serpent.

The explanation to these weird symbols was that there are four student division groups, or 'houses,' at this school in England. Why they needed Hammel students, the old man said, was an experiment to see if meta's and these...wizards and witches...could co-mingle. Each student from Hammel would partner up with a student from Hogwarts and participate in four well designed tests to see if that was true. Those people in England had 'gifts' that went hand in hand with meta's, but their application of it was drastically different.

At first, the idea of sending these four (especially Vincent) overseas, was astoundingly negative, but after having dinner with this old man, the powers at be were oddly...persuaded. The four of them were then sent off on a private plane, accompanied by that old man. Having to take a train to the school, instead of just flying all the way there, the students were ushered into their separate groups where they met their respective partners.

Rhett and his partner immediately struck up a friendship, they were nearly identical in appearance and the boy had an air of superiority that Rhett understood would lead them to victory in whatever it was that they were doing. Vincent couldn't hardly stand the nerd he was partnered with, though he did try to sleep with him that night. To which a fight broke out between him and five other boys. After a few blasts from their stupid wooden sticks, Vincent fell sideways but after a moment of power-recuperation, he sprung back to his feet, to their absolute dismay. A teacher finally busted in and broke up the fight.

Willow and the girl she was partnered with were different in age, but they seemed to be able to agree that they should study up on the possible tasks and prepare themselves for it. Both of the girls seemed rather confident of their victory. Once Jeff was introduced to the boy he was going to be partnered with, the boy seemed to go off into a talking tirade about how the two would be absolutely fabulous together. Jeff still wasn't exactly sure what he had gotten himself into, but he supposed he should at least strive to do go at their goal of winning, or whatever. The two boys met some sort of agreement, but the boy still did the vast majority of the talking.

Tomorrow, the tournament would begin.


(Credit goes to those respective owners of their character's. I do apologize, but I pretty much just picked them at random. Thank you again!!)

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Long, Long Day*


Don't know what else to say.
I hate to abuse an old cliché.
But it's been a long, long day.

Given the amount of suffering in the world, one would be hard-pressed to say that the universe was inherently just. There was war, famine, strife, pestilence, other forms of violence and oppression. Even on the less serious side of the scale, there still existed danger and heartache and non-life-threatening illnesses and disabilities, accidents, and poverty. There was no inherent justice.

Still, occasionally the universe had a sense of humor. Even if one couldn’t call the results just, there were moments when the only objective reaction was a smile or an I told you so.

Today was one of those days.

When everyone had gone to bed the night before, all had been as it always was. The sun rose in the east and set in the west. In the northern hemisphere, the water flowed counterclockwise. In the United States of America, meta-human status wasn’t given protection under the law. And in Pilot Ridge, Vermont, Hammel operated and taught meta-human children how to control their powers, while the town itself boasted the highest population of meta-humans in the nation. Not everyone was pleased with that; metaphobic baseline humans lived everywhere, including the meta-human capital of the United States.

Overnight, the universe decided to indulge its sense of humor.

This morning, there were a few more meta-humans in the world and a few fewer metaphobic baseline humans. Metaphobia still abounded, but now it was ironic.

Nicholas Kells was one such individual.

The military man had never had a single sincere kind word to say about meta-humans. He was a peculiar case of bigot, one who, if left to his own company, would admit that he hated meta-humans without exception. At the same time, he didn’t consider himself to be prejudiced, because he believed that prejudice was only applicable when a person irrationally hated another group of people, and he considered metas to be inhuman. Freaks, he’d thought, dangerous ones at that.

Like most metaphobes, he’d never given much consideration to what it was like to be meta. Most meta-human powers went unnoticed unless they were always active, like enhanced perception or telepathy, or until they were needed, like shapeshifting. Unless the power was uncontrollable.

As such, he’d had no reason to realize that anything was different when he’d woken that morning.

He woke at dawn, as was his habit. He went out for a job before breakfast, as he did every morning. After finishing his jog, he went back inside, put the coffee on to brew, showered ,shaved, dressed, woke his daughter Rachel, and then went downstairs to make breakfast.

Everything was fine. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

When the babysitter arrived, he instructed Rachel to behave, and gave her some money in case they went to the park and wanted ice cream. Then he kissed her goodbye, climbed into his car, and drove to work.


He smiled at Tarak and Lenore and Moira, although inwardly he grimaced. Tarak’s power was useful, but it made him untrustworthy. How can you keep someone accountable if you can’t see them? Likewise, it didn’t matter how loyal the twins claimed to be; they were creepy, and one couldn’t be sure of what they would do. Unpredictable, too strong and fast for their own good.

At least Gerard, Victoria, and Alana were all normal. Nick’s smiles of greeting at the three of them were all genuine. He poured a cup of coffee in the break room and chatted for a few minutes with Gerard about the baseball season and the recently announced military budget cutbacks.

Then he’d retreated to his office to do some paperwork and check in with some of his contacts.

Everything was fine. Until he found one of his teeth floating in his coffee. It was jarring; he had good, strong bones and teeth, and he hadn’t even felt it come loose. More than that, his mouth didn’t hurt.

Concerned, he went back to the break room and poured himself a glass of milk. He dropped the tooth in the glass to preserve the nerve, and then he called his dentist for an appointment. Thankfully, the dentist in Pilot Ridge wasn’t meta; he’d never let one of them have such unrestricted access to his medical records and to his mouth. Especially since they might drug him and who knew what they might do once his was under? Or what type of secrets they might try to extract from him under the guise of medical necessity?

The dentist, after hearing that it was an emergency, promised to fit him in for the latest appointment slot today. That was at 5:00p.m., which meant that Nick would have to get through the entire day missing a tooth, but at least it would be fixed by this evening. He just had to call the babysitter and ask her to watch Rachel for another couple of hours. But that was easy enough.

With the appointment made, Nick tried to distract himself by focusing on work. It was only a tooth, hardly the end of the world; he’d certainly seen far, far worse in combat. Paperwork and telephone calls proved worthwhile distractions, and after a while, he’d nearly forgotten all about the tooth.

Call the Pentagon – check.
Review all of the memos floating around Headquarters – check.
Check in with research and development about his special project – check.
Type up his progress report – check.

Soon enough, it was lunch time. Often, one of the other employees volunteered to go out and buy lunch for everyone, but today was Lenore and Moira’s day. Nick didn’t want to deal with them, and so he simply took his lunch hour outside.

There was a deli only a few blocks away that made good sandwiches, and had no meta employees. It was one of Nick’s favorite places to eat in this forsaken town. A brisk walk brought him to its doors, he entered, smiled pleasantly at the cashier, and ordered a chicken parmesan on a ciabatta roll. The military man found a table far from the entrance and settled in to eat. As always, the food was delicious, and everything was fine.

Until he glanced down at his hand and noticed his thumb was missing. He hadn’t felt anything; he couldn’t even see blood, or that might have been due to the marinara sauce. But his hand didn’t hurt, at all. Inwardly, he was panicking, although in true military fashion, he kept a stiff upper lip and refused to display even the slightest hint of weakness. He just had to pick up his thumb and find out what was wrong; it was probably some meta somewhere. One that could project illusions or otherwise control his mind.

That was a distressing thought. But as long as he kept calm, the meta S.O.B. wouldn’t get the best of him.

He reached for it, and he could have sworn it moved on his plate. However, he managed to pick it up. Turning it over in his hand, he couldn’t see any blood, or even an indication that it had ever been attached to his hand. The cursed thing looked whole. Nick balled his hand into a fist, curling around the finger to conceal it with the nub tucked inside; all the while, he considered his plan of action.

But when he uncurled his fist, his thumb was back where it should be.

He tugged on the thumb to be sure, but the digit remained where it was, refusing to budge. He ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth; it fell into the crevice where the tooth had been.

He was losing it.

The military man left his tray and walked out of the deli. Perhaps if he got back to headquarters, Alana could run a medical check and see what was wrong. If there was a meta having fun with him, the further he was from the deli, the better. Those freaks had better get their chuckles in now, because when he finished with his special project, they would have nothing to laugh about.

Unfortunately, Alana had also felt the urge to go out for lunch. She was gone when he came back. Nick debated leaving a message for her, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to seem paranoid or vulnerable. Besides, it might pass now that he was safely protected at headquarters, far away from the open space where any freak could get at him.

He didn’t like how his hand trembled when he reached for his computer keyboard, barely noticeable as it was. He was better than this, better than them. He couldn’t let it get to him.

The military man returned to his data entry, checking on his list of people to contact. Typing took longer than usual, since he tried to avoid using his thumb, but he still managed to get into a rhythm. The work distracted him, let him slip into a mindset that was goal-oriented and left no room for emotional responses.

The body didn’t comply as easily as the mind. After an hour of focused work, he felt pressure in his kidneys. Nick tried to ignore it for a time, but eventually the pressure became overwhelming. His hands seemed fine; all of the fingers were where they were supposed to be, and he couldn’t let paranoia prevent him from basic biological functions.

The bathroom was unoccupied, and he quickly sidled up to the nearest urinal. He quickly unzipped to relieve himself.

Everything was fine.

Until he heard a thwap and his hand was empty. He looked down in horror at the urinal and what it now contained. This couldn’t have happened; this was as impossible as it was horrifying.

Yet there it was, right before his eyes.

And the universe laughed to itself.




*With apologies to Abi.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Slow Man

But I’m workin’ at a furious pace,
From the mornin’ ‘til the end of the day.
Me, oh Lord, look at these lines upon my face,
I got to figure out a better way.

The headquarters for Operation Patriot looked no different from many other government buildings: made from cement and contracted to the lowest bidder. The exterior was a depressing shade of grey, and the interior was lined with the standard carpeting and office furniture also sold to public schools and courthouses, and quite possibly constructed by prison labor, either in-state or out-of-state. From the outside looking in, nobody would ever think that this building was anything special, but for the plaque that labeled it as the workspace for Operation Patriot, named after its founder.

There were certainly no indications that the building had a basement. And in the basement was the most complex military surveillance equipment thus far known to mankind. A special grant from the Department of Homeland Security had allowed for development, purchase, and installation of the monitoring station.

A camera in every traffic light and on every street corner provided constant footage of Pilot Ridge. Their computer system, the best on the market, provided information about every resident of the town. Names, addresses, ages, social security numbers, occupations, citizenship status, bank account balances, criminal records, loan and credit information, educational history, powers if applicable... Everything was catalogued alphabetically and cross-referenced by social security number or alienage number in the case of non-citizens.

The end result was the Master List.

“We’ve made good progress,” Gerard Maybury, leader of Operation Patriot, remarked during their weekly progress meeting. A print-out of the Master List lay on the large table in their War Room, which was the unofficial name for their underground conference room. Several prominent members of the Pilot Ridge community – identified with a small picture as would be found on a driver’s license, as well as name and address – had red “X” marks through them. Every “X” meant that another person had been tended to.

“We still have a long way to go,” Victoria Jefferson, the Public Relations and Communications Officer, pointed out. She was correct; only half of the pictures attached to profiles had a red “X”. Far too many people were unaccounted for.

Gerard had faith. After all, he had assembled the best team in the entire nation. He was confident that they would complete their mission ahead of schedule, and then they could be proud of themselves. “We’ll get them,” he said. “Divide up the remainders and give everyone a list. I want to see another 20% completed by the end of the month.”

With a nod from Victoria, the meeting came to an end. The members of Operation Patriot went their separate ways, returning to their individual work stations to tend to other tasks and to await the distribution.

***************************

The individual lists were dispatched the next morning. Every single agent studied their assignments, which were organized by which areas of town they lived in or where they worked. Hammel itself was off-limits due to the complicating factors; Lenore and Moira were good at negotiation, as the liaisons, but conducting such business on school property was beyond even their skills. Those affiliated with Hammel simply had to be tracked down off-campus, outside of school hours.

There were more than enough other people to find, completely unaffiliated with the Institute. Some proved easy targets. Riley Adams and Danny Silverman were taken out in one fell swoop, in the middle of the local farmer’s market. James Campbell was found at the park with Niko. Chase Campbell was cornered at his house.

Curiously, Sean Neville, his partner and their blond friend who had the criminal record (although the charges were eventually dropped) were nowhere to be found within state-lines. Research found that they had taken a flight to Europe a couple of weeks back and were due in another couple of weeks. Gerard planned to meet them at the airport himself so he could cross them off.

Nicholas Kells had little pride in his work. He believed in the mission of Operation Patriot, but he preferred a hands-off approach. Unfortunately, those beliefs hadn’t been enough to excuse him from taking his portion of the Master List. Grumbling, he had sought out his targets, disposing of them in a quick and mechanical fashion.

All except for one.

Cobalt Weaver.

His profile was nothing remarkable. He was an orphan from New Jersey, a Hammel graduate, an attorney who had attended school in Chicago and returned to Vermont two years ago with a blonde business partner half his age, and he was both a meta and a homosexual. Also, based on his driver’s license photo, he had little self-respect; no self-respecting man had a moustache that looked like that. It never would have been allowed in the military.

It was ironic. Nick thought that those types were supposed to be ahead of the curve on fashion and style.

Unfortunately, tracking down Cobalt Weaver proved more challenging than it should have. He was one man, a man with a relatively sedentary job (since he was either supposed to be at his office, on file, or at the course house, which was well known). A man who was, perhaps, even more misanthropic than Nick himself was. He had a limited social circle – that had been learned through surveillance; he spent time with the same crowd of middle-aged man that so many of the others who played for the other team did, but he didn’t actually go out many places. He didn’t seem to go to movies or to concerts or to anywhere interesting or fun. He never even seemed to go grocery shopping, as baffling a notion as that was; it was as though he didn’t eat. He’d lived in the same apartment since returning to Pilot Ridge. There was no reason he should be this hard to find.

Nick had even tried the home of Benjamin Rhodes to find him, since they were obviously in a relationship. But each time he’d knocked, he’d found Ben alone, or Yulia, who gave Nick the creeps, since she was a walking weapon. Besides, both of them had already been checked off the list.

It was like the man could disappear into thin air. But he didn’t have invisibility, not the way Tarak did. Perhaps it was one of his shadow tricks.

Resolved to finish this task or die trying, Nick returned to some of the more classic tools available to law enforcement. Namely, the stakeout. He spent nights camped out in his car outside of Cobalt Weaver’s apartment building to no avail. Nick then put a covert GPS under the shadow manipulator’s car.

That proved to be useful. In the middle of an argument with his ex-wife about Rachel’s bedtime being extended for the summer, his smartphone had alerted him to the movement of Cobalt’s car. Nick had needed to cut the conversation short, and then he’d taken off, ignoring the posted speed limits.

Those didn’t apply to government workers. Particularly not when they had a Higher Purpose, the way he did.

The military man found him outside of the court house. Finally, he was doing something predictable and useful.

Nick was unwilling to confront Cobalt in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded court house. Instead, he parked his car a couple of blocks away and decided to wait by the shadow manipulator’s car for him to return from whatever shyster work he had in the building.

The wait wasn’t interesting, but Nick was nothing if not disciplined.

When Cobalt returned, he found the taller man leaning against his car. The shadow manipulator was confused and opened his mouth to shout at him to get away from his vehicle. Then Nick made eye contact with him, a steady gaze that made Cobalt shiver in concern. The military man pushed away from the car and took several steps towards him.

Cobalt sized him up and took the most reasonable course of action. He turned tail and ran through the parking garage, intent on putting as much distance between himself and Nick as possible. This was complicated by the fact that he had bad knees.

Nick sighed; this was what he hated about the job. Although it had been a while since he’d had a Honest to Goodness hunt. Since he was ex-military, and he didn’t have pain in his joints, he found the run far less frustrating, certainly less painful.

It also didn’t take long for him to catch up with Cobalt, even with the older man looking around for ways to blend into the shadows. Nick cornered him in an alley, with the shadow manipulator pressed up against a fence that was easily twice his size, without a trash can to stand on for stability.

There was nowhere to run.

Nick approached his target with the same confident expression in his eyes as when he first confronted him at his car. Step by step, he came closer, until he could see himself reflected in the lenses of the short man’s glasses.

“What do you want with me?” Cobalt asked.

Nick didn’t answer the question. Instead, he reached out, grabbed the meta by the scruff of his shirt collar, and pulled him close. Arms wrapped around the shorter man in the tightest bear hug of his life, lifting him off the ground with the pure strength of force.

Then, he set the baffled man back on the ground.

“Courtesy of Operation Patriot,” he said, before turning on his heels and leaving the meta alone in the alley to puzzle over what had just happened.

That was the end of his part of the List.