The Owl in the Abyss - Chapter 15

“Dad!”

“Ooof, easy there, little owl,” he winced visibly in pain.

I backed off from the hug like I’d been scalded with hot water. “Are you hurt? Of course, you are. What a stupid question.”

Pitter closed the door to Coil’s office and had an amused smile on his face. “He was roughed up by one of the mercs. Your father has a number of bruised ribs, the obvious black eye and he might want to see a dentist about some teeth that were knocked loose.”

Dad nodded, though he glared briefly at Pitter, as he rubbed his wrists from the visible bruising from straining against handcuffs,  “That’s true. Nothing I’m unfamiliar with though, given my misspent youth on the docks. Probably gonna need a crown or implant replacement.” He gave Coil’s office a scan and his eyes flashed as he saw the villain himself sitting absolutely still on a basic chair against the wall. “So you mastered him?”

“Yes, he’ll sit there quietly, until I order him to get up,” I said, also glaring. “I’ve also got the two mercs outside and I’ve hypnotized Mr. Pitter here to my side as thoroughly as I could. So he could come and fetch you, whilst leaving my range.” Just in case, I pulled Pitter’s mind back into my web anyway. I still wasn’t confident in my hypnotism, since it relied on verbal orders and there might be loopholes for betrayal I had missed.

“Good,” Dad said. He took a few steps forward, I saw his aura flash with rage, before he unleashed a punch directly into Coil’s stomach that doubled over the villain, causing his breath to explode out of his lungs. He followed it up with an elbow delivered to Coil’s jaw that sent the villain sprawling to the floor, gasping and groaning in pain.

Dad visibly reigned himself in, turned around in disgust at both Coil and himself, then stepped back. “Sorry, you had to see that, little owl.”

“I totally understand,” I said, though I wouldn’t deny it was a shock to see dad committing any act of violence. He had the family’s temper, but always kept it on a very short leash. He had never released it in the house and would sooner kill himself before unleashing it on mom.

He looked around the office again, “So what are you going to do, Taylor? We’re still technically trapped here and I don’t think the rest of the mercs are just gonna let us walk out of here.”

“I’ve had a few ideas, but I was hoping to brainstorm with you.”

“Okay, let’s hear it.”

“Get all of them in a room, master them, then hypnotize them.”

“To do what exactly?”

I sighed, “That’s the part I’m still not sure about. Dad, do you realize what an opportunity this is? Considering the very huge problem facing us.”

He folded his arms and looked up into the ceiling, then he glanced at Coil who was still wheezing on the floor. “You want to keep him? Control all his assets, the money, the mercs?” He said the last one, whilst giving me a knowing, pointed look.

Yes, that had been one of the first things to pop into my mind. I now potentially had a base full of fifty odd hunky mercs just waiting to serve me and have sex with. It was also a place where we could now safely house SCPs, including Henry, who could have the full run of the place, instead of being stuck in a boring warehouse.

I nodded, “Dad, we need to do this. You remember some of the threats and objects Henry talked about. The stuff we couldn’t trust the government or PRT with if they showed up?”

He rubbed his temple, wincing at the headache he was dealing with. I’d have ordered Pitter to bring some painkillers, but I wasn’t willing to trust dad’s care to the guy. “I see your point, Taylor. The issue is that you’ll be inheriting all of Coil’s problems. He didn’t get to his position without stepping on a lot of toes, I imagine. Is that something you’re prepared to do?”

I turned to Coil, “On the chair, you’ve had enough time to recover.”

“Yes mistress,” Coil grimaced and returned to his spot.

“Part of me just wants to call the PRT and let them deal with this mess,” I admitted. “But… I just can’t, dad. If that’s the price I have to pay to keep our universe safe and in one piece, then I’ll do it.”

“If I may suggest something, mistress?” Pitter spoke up.

“You may.”

“Coil currently has 55 mercenaries in his employ. They are generally like me in terms of employment. All of us are legitimate employees of Fortress Construction LLC, Coil’s civilian persona is the CEO and sole shareholder of the private company, which is how our salaries and benefits are structured for the benefit of the IRS. It’s all above board. I’m not sure how old you are, mistress-”

“I turn nineteen in four months.”

“I see, therefore you can sign a contract legally. My suggestion is that you have Coil either give you a majority share of the company or your father, appointing him as CEO and then Coil officially ‘retires’ with a nest egg. In that way, you become the de facto owner of Fortress and with it the purse strings and mercenary employment contracts are yours.”

“Will the mercs accept that?” Dad asked pointedly.

“As I said, they are like me, Coil therefore has some form of leverage on each of them. So they are not only loyal to a paycheck, but also because betrayal will lead to that skeleton in their closet being released by Coil. That is leverage you will also inherit. You will find it all on Coil’s personal off-site server, which he has access to from his home and this office.”

“I won’t be party to blackmail,” Dad shook his head. “Given the task we have ahead of us, I want employees that’ll work because they’re defending their very existence in this universe, not because they have some Sword of Damocles hovering over their heads.”

“I must admit to some curiosity about this threat you claim,” Pitter frowned at us.

“You’ve seen the train?” I asked with a sigh.

“Of course, it made national news, it was most vexing to Coil for some reason.”

“There’s more threats like it, they don’t originate from this universe and more are inevitably on the way,” I said shortly, not really feeling like explaining further at the moment.

“I see, mistress, your word is truth to me,” Pitter said devotionally. “In that case, I must advise you to review everything Coil has on the mercenary’s personnel files. There are some of them that rightly belong in jail or even death row for their crimes.”

“You’re telling me Coil employed psychos as mercs?” Dad asked in alarm.

“One or two could fit that profile,” Pitter admitted. “Coil kept them on a very close watch, but they were useful for when he had to order some unpleasant things done.”

Dad rubbed his face wearily as he digested that fact. “If we’re going to do this, I need to review those files…”

I blinked in astonishment, “You’re agreeing, dad?”

“We’ll take it one step at a time, little owl.” He stepped behind the mass of computer monitors on Coil’s desk and looked rather intimidated by the complexity of the entire setup. “Get that bastard over here, Taylor. We need to both sit down and read this, including everything he’s planning.”

888888888888888888888888888

Going through the personnel files of 55 people might be old hat to dad, but it was entirely new to me. It was rather astonishing the level of detail that Coil had on the details and lives of his employees.

“This is rather more invasive than you’d typically see in legitimate business,” he explained. “It seems like he definitely had each of them investigated by a PI at least for these bits.” He pointed to a section of the file being displayed on the screen.

“It was rather more than just that, mistress,” Pitter offered.

“Oh, what did he do?” I asked curiously, giving a glance at Coil’s aura. I didn’t take a chance at giving him a single moment outside of my mind web, despite my hypnotism. He was still docile and aroused, something very obvious in his tight costume.

“He hasn’t told me details of how his power works, he likes to say that he can ‘control destiny’, or some such nonsense but I’ve long since figured out that it’s a form of precognition. There is no other explanation for how can know some of the things he does.”

“Coil, explain your power,” I ordered.

“At once, mistress,” he said eagerly. “It’s in fact, a hyper accurate simulation power. From my own point of view, I can live in two timelines, collapsing and branching off the simulated timeline at will. Making different decisions or taking actions in the simulated timeline and observing the results.”

I tried to wrap my head around that and the computing power that would be required to simulate a universe and the scanning hardware needed to first take a scan of the true universe… wait…

“Is this only from your own point of view? You can’t, for example, know what’s happening on Jupiter or on the other side of the planet?”

“Yes, my point of view only, mistress. I would need to rely on traditional information gathering methods in the simulated timeline.”

I let out a breath of relief, yes, that was slightly more plausible.

Dad frowned in suspicion at Coil, his mouth thinning. “Ask him what information gathering methods he used in that timeline?”

“You heard my father. Answer.”

“At once, mistress. I used traditional and extraordinary methods. Naturally, people don’t want to divulge their secrets willingly. Therefore, I would interrogate them in the simulated timeline.”

“And what form would this interrogation take?” I asked, feeling dread.

“Waterboarding, pain inducement, nail removal, low level electrocution-”

“Fuck, stop! Are you fucking crazy?”

“Not as far as I’m aware, mistress. My last psych evaluation from the PRT was in the normal range.”

I was thrown for a loop for a second. “The PRT? Why would they give you a psych eval?”

“I was in the PRT, mistress. I led strike teams. Now I’m a high level, high security clearance consultant for the local PRT ENE branch.”

I met dad’s eyes and was gratified to note there were equal levels of astonishment there. He rubbed his forehead wearily. “So let me get this straight, you’re Coil, a villain, mastermind, yet your day job is as a consultant for the PRT?”

“Answer him,” I ordered, when the villain stayed stoically silent.

“Yes, mistress. That is correct.”

“So you’re technically on both sides, with fingers in many pies; criminal, legal business and now even law enforcement,” I said, and it was ridiculous that he could even keep all those ventures straight in his head. Of course, with his power, he would be simulating timelines where he would test things and learn their outcomes, then apply that to the real world.

“Again, correct.”

“We can’t be distracted,” said dad into the silence that followed. “We need to sort out these mercs. First category, those we want to ideally keep on board. Second category, those we should let go with proper compensation. Third category, the psycho killers who we have to get off this base and into BBPD custody somehow.”

“Why the second category?” I asked curiously.

“There’ll be those who won’t want to continue due to the ‘change’ in management. Simple as that. They’ll be the ones doing this not just for the paycheck, but for a variety of other reasons. It could be ideological or perhaps Coil was going to do them some favor that only he could do, but which we now wouldn’t.”

“Okay, got it. We need to be careful with those as well though. They could turn around and sell info on Coil’s operations to the highest bidder or even hench themselves out again.”

Dad groaned in frustration, “I keep forgetting we’re not really in a legit business environment here. Generally, we would’ve used an NDA to shut that possibility down.”

“If you can help with the wording, make it ironclad, I could probably hypnotize an NDA equivalent into them.”

“We’ll work on that after we’ve sorted them.”

“If I could interrupt your perfectly understandable hostile takeover of Coil’s operations,” said Uber’s voice in my ear.

I flinched and put my hand to the Scouter. “I thought I had switched this thing off, Uber. Did you lie to me?” I asked in a dangerous tone.

“No, not at all,” he said hastily. “It was off, it’s just I can remotely switch it back on.”

“How long have you been watching and listening?” I turned my head away from the computer screens.

“Just the last ten or so minutes, honest, dead honest. I know you have a Thinker rating, you’re perfectly welcome to ask me this question again and I’ll answer in person for you to judge.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Now, thanks for all the help again, but what do you want?”

“Firstly, a bit of advice, those psycho mercs, handing them to BBPD is giving them to the E88 on a silver platter. BBPD has Empire sympathizers and moles in it. They’ll break them out even easier than they can from PRT custody. Kaizer would like nothing better than getting info out of them and offering them a job. That cozy hidden base will no longer be hidden at all.”

“So definitely hypnotize them into silence then.”

“Sure, but they’ll still be back on the streets, only now with no outlet for their ‘hobby’. How long before they go serial killer or go on a rampage? As much as Coil had a use for them, so would Kaizer.”

I held my head in my hands as the concept crashed into my brain. If that happened, those deaths would be on my shoulders as surely as if I’d pulled the trigger or stabbed the knife with my own hands. I couldn’t imagine that I could hypnotize them to the extent that they stop being psychos. I glared at Coil… damn him for putting us in this position.

“What exactly do you expect me to do about that Uber?”

“There are no good answers or options here, Escort. Just less shitty ones and what you can live with. My first suggestion, master them, then order Pitter to sedate them and then just never let them wake up. OD them with the sedative.”

“Are you seriously suggesting… That is just as good as killing them myself!”

“Welcome to the true underworld, Escort. Review Coil’s file on them, he probably has a detailed breakdown of what they’ve done and what they’re capable of. You could master them and deliver them to the Feds as well, but that brings up other problems. They’ll quickly interrogate them and once it comes out that they used to work for Coil, then all the info they’ve got falls into the government’s hands. And I bet you they will have a few objections to that underground base, all the weapons, mercs and all of Coil’s money and wealth being in your possession now.”

He was right, they’d take it all and none of it could go towards fighting against SCPs that would show up. If we were lucky, we’d maybe get a standing reward of some kind, but it would be a pittance in comparison.

So on the one hand I had my morality and on the other, the means to hopefully manage the incoming SCPs, the potential survival of the universe. I had to choose one.

What was this?

Just a few months ago, I was a bullied young girl, now I had to be an executioner and do what the government should’ve done with these psychos.

“Little owl,” dad said softly and I felt his hand on my bare shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. I can… make a few calls.”

I turned around and frowned in confusion. Who could dad possibly call that would solve this? That would do our dirty work.

I steeled my resolve. No, I wouldn’t be just another Coil. “Who?”

“Old colleagues from your mother’s days of running with Lustrum.”

“Wow, your mom henched for Lustrum? Damn,” Uber said, sounding both impressed and weary. “I think your dad’s either crazy or got balls of steel.”

I ignored the comment. “It will still be us at the end of the day, dad. We might not be doing the deed, but…”

He turned back to the computer screens and worked with the keyboard and mouse briefly. Coil directory structure wasn’t complex, and while he didn’t outright name things according to function, he did use codewords for various groupings of files. His ‘wetwork’ mercs were collated under the directory called ‘Sparrow’ and as dad opened it up, a total of four files were present inside.

Cooper Allen, Luis Lewis, Tyler Newman, Francisco Klein.

Reading through those four files was horrifying and really made me wonder why I was agonizing over this. They were utter monsters in human form. They could be right there next to the worst SCPs Henry spoke of.

Allen had worn his wife’s head as a hat across two state lines before he was arrested. Later investigation had revealed he had nearly half a dozen murdered wives under different identities behind him. He was only spared the death penalty because he had confessed to those crimes, resolving the cases and bringing closure to the bereaved families. He escaped federal prison after an attack by the Elite villain organization. It caused enough chaos that he was able to sneak out in the confusion. Coil recruited him when Allen had crossed into Massachusetts.

Lewis was actually a professional hitman who had worked for the Mob, with a confirmed kill count in the two dozen. He was actually recommended to Coil by another villain from Boston; Accord.

“Ah ha, there’s a connection,” said Uber in my ear. “Citrine is a cape that works for Accord.”

“So you’re saying he and Coil are what? Associates?”

“Possibly, I know that Accord isn’t someone who just rents out his capes to anyone who asks. This implies a relationship between the two that’s about more than just money. Ask him,” he suggested.

“Coil, what’s your deal with Accord?”

“We are friends after a fashion, as much as anyone can be a friend to Accord, given his neurosis for absolute order, mistress,” he explained eagerly. “Our powers also work rather well together. He’s a Thinker that can make plans to solve nearly anything he puts his mind to - the bigger or more complex the problem, the higher his intelligence jumps to solve it. I can then simulate those actions in my timeline and observe the results. We’ve collaborated a few times. Mistress, did you know that he worked out how to solve world hunger in less than seven hours and typed up the full plan in nine hours.”

“No I did not. I guess the reason why it wasn’t implemented was because it would destabilize something or cost too much?”

“Oh no, mistress. His plan accounted for everything. It was masterful, but he failed to account for the simple fact that the governments don’t want that problem to be solved. A lot of the elements used in the plan would result in localized independence for food production and everything related to that production - such as energy independence for farmers, to name one example. If implemented, it would almost obviate the need for big government structures or aid programs. It would decentralize the world and create resilience to attacks from Endbringers, but powerful interest groups don’t want that.”

I really wanted to break or hit something at that moment. Looking at dad, I could see his aura was also tinged with fury.

We turned our attention back to the Sparrow files. Newman was from Florida and had actually been in the Navy briefly, but was cashiered in military prison when he had snapped during basic training and murdered his drill instructor. He was so psychologically unstable at that point, he had been remanded to a mental institution. There he had been a guinea pig for all sorts of experimental treatments and one had stuck, which provided him enough mental clarity to somewhat function in general society. He had been released with an ankle bracelet to keep track of him, but he was frightfully good with electronics, managing to remove it and elude the authorities. His medication ran out and the inevitable happened. He started a serial killer spree by stabbing nine people and feeding them to alligators. Coil had picked him up when the guy was fleeing north up the east coast.

Finally, Francisco Klein; Coil’s file on him was surprisingly short, but that was simply because Klein had been living on the streets of Brockton from a young age, never leaving a paper trail or even formally enrolling in school. That changed when at seventeen he was found over the body of a homeless woman and charged with her murder. He went to juvie, and from there a judge eventually sent him into the Army. There he got an honorable discharge after a five year stint and worked in private security for a time, when he caught Coil’s attention somehow and offered him employment.

At first, I couldn’t understand why Coil would lump this guy in with the other psychos, but the man’s performance in the field and what he did in simulated timelines when given the opportunity quickly revealed the reason. The guy was an absolute sadist. Instead of just killing the target, he ‘played’ with them; wounding them just enough so they couldn’t outright run, from then on it was a sick game of hunter and wounded prey. In one timeline, Coil had sent the guy to see a psychiatrist, just to see what would happen. Things didn’t go well at all and the psychiatrist was found strung up and flayed the next day. Klein considered himself a hunter, but his preferred prey was people.

“How can the other mercs stand working with these guys?” I asked, my face curled in disgust.

“They don’t know the full details, right?” Dad asked Pitter.

“Correct, Mr Hebert. Coil made sure of that and the other employees are all military men, good enough judges of character for themselves. They know to keep these four at a healthy distance.”

I steeled my resolve, casting away the stupid anxiety taking root in my stomach. I pulled my chair closer to the desk, pulled the keyboard and mouse to me and worked through the operating system to bring up the communications program that Coil used to individually text and send orders to each merc.

Dad put a hand on my arm, causing me to pause. “Little owl…”

“Dad-”

He interrupted me by putting Coil’s very fancy, tricked out pistol on the desk, and keeping his hand over its grip. I didn’t know what model it was or even the caliber, but it looked substantial and intimidating. “You bring them down, keep them still, then I’ll do it.”

“Dad, can you even-”

“Can you?” He retorted. “I just know that I’ll be damned if I don’t do something to protect you, even if it’s to preserve your innocence for just a little longer. I don’t doubt that at some point in the cape business, you’ll have to take a life. It’s inevitable I think, but I don’t want it to be today. Not when I can help it.”

I felt a surge of affection and placed my hand on his.

Then let out a breath and began typing.

8888888888888888888888888

Pitter, as it turned out, was knowledgeable about the disposal of bodies and it shouldn’t have been a surprise that Coil had made provision during the reconstruction of the Endbringer shelter for such disposal. In fact, a little known and suppressed bit of information was that the fully functional crematoria in a corner of the underground base, was actually a standard feature of every Endbringer Shelter in the country. It was a feature that really should be obvious, in retrospect. Death in a shelter was inevitable when an Endbringer actually attacked and the dead couldn’t just be left to rot or take up space in a freezer, when every square inch was needed for food preservation.

The other part of dealing with the four monsters in human form - was how easy and simple it was, at the end of the day.

The first one we called down was Klein.

The instant he was out the elevator I had him in my web and called him into the interrogation room.

There he stood on a plastic tarp and simply waited.

It was very difficult to describe and watch dad’s aura as he shakingly aimed the pistol straight at Klein’s forehead, who in turn, only had eyes for me. Dad’s aura flared brightly, a cauldron of colors; the gray of self-loathing, the reds of anger, the silver of determination.

The report of the gunshot was a surprise when it happened and sent a jolt through me, my stomach churned and my spine felt like it wanted to jump out of my skin. I had also expected it to be louder.

Klein’s body collapsed to the floor, and his mind just vanished from my web.

The back of his skull had been blown out and I didn’t want to look at the results, but forced myself.

“Figured it had an integral suppressor,” Dad idly commented, before abruptly bending over to the side and throwing up his last meal.

Pitter began wrapping up the tarp around the body. “I figured this would happen, Mr. Hebert, and brought a mop and bucket. I’ll clean up, not to worry.”

The process repeated with Allen, Lewis, and Newman.

Each one was easier to do. Dad had dry heaved after Allen, but showed no further problems with the remaining two.

By the point Newman was wrapped in a tarp and carried off to the crematoria by my two mastered mercenaries, who both only felt relief and even joy that the monsters were dead, I felt nothing.

I was utterly numb. Even dad’s emotions had a similar dullness to them. He was seated in a corner of the room, the pistol safed and in a holster attached to his belt. His eyes just stared into the distance and his arms were folded.

The only thing to say in my mind at the moment was an utterly stupid question: ‘Are you okay?’ I already knew the answer, so didn’t ask.

“Your great grandfather was in World War 2,” he eventually said into the oppressive silence. “Not anyone significant or special, or some gung-ho elite paratrooper, he was in an engineer battalion. Helping build bridges for the tanks to cross rivers. Never let it be said though that he didn’t see combat. Everyone did. Gramps rarely spoke of anything besides building bridges, but a few weeks before he died, he told me of fighting a German SS unit. They didn’t know at the time of the atrocities, your average grunt infantryman wouldn’t know until the war was almost over.

“Nevertheless, his unit fought, heavy casualties were suffered, but they survived when an Army Ranger company arrived as reinforcement. Your great-gramps killed six over the battle and two of them, they were as young as you, little owl. By that point, the Nazis were scrambling for troops and conscripted the young, the old, even those citizens of conquered nations. For the longest time, he had nightmares after the war. Wracked with guilt over the kills, until in the early sixties, they at last released declassified information. He didn’t go over the details with me, as I was just a young teenager, but he never had nightmares again. He said, ‘It turns out, I had actually killed monsters, Danny. If you ever need to, don’t hesitate.’”

“So we shouldn’t either?” I asked almost robotically.

“The fact that we’re feeling this way is good, little owl. We can take heart, that we’re good people put in an impossible situation, trying our best to remain good. As long as we keep sight of that, as long as we explore and exhaust all other options first - then I have hope we won’t become monsters either.”

8888888888888888888888888888888888888

Dad essentially ordered me to rest and relax for the next two hours, whilst he kept his mind occupied organizing the paperwork and details of transferring Fortress into both his own name and my own. I ordered Coil to cooperate fully and leave no traps or make any purposeful mistakes before I left for the bedroom that Coil himself used.

I made sure to completely change the used sheets from the closet. I couldn’t climb in under them, but I’d be damned if I ever put my bare butt on anything Coil had touched or slept in.

As much as to my body and instincts, a man was a man, and that as long as he had a penis he was fair game to me, for some reason I just couldn’t imagine myself doing that to Coil. Something about his aura and just the look of him, just rubbed me the wrong way, and my back shuddered with revulsion at the idea of feeding from him.

I hadn’t felt that way about the Sparrow mercs, even as I took in their horrible auras. I had been perfectly willing to fuck them to death if dad hadn’t stepped in.

I spent the next two hours puzzling that conundrum unsuccessfully before giving up and returning to Coil…no, our main office.

Dad looked up as I entered, shuffling and gathering papers that he’d printed. Coil was still exactly where he was supposed to be and Pitter was standing beside dad, pointing out a number of things on the screens.

“Ah, Taylor, just in time, we’ve got things mostly sorted here. We’re about ready to begin the process of reinterviewing and sorting the employees. We need to have Coil behind the desk, then we both need to be out of immediate sight initially. If all goes well, you’ll only need to master them in an emergency. We’ll be talking to the ones we want to keep first, the ‘good’ ones, to get them on our side as quickly as possible.”

“And the ones we want to fire later?”

“Yes, I think I’ve sorted the language you need to hypnotize them. There shouldn’t be loopholes, but I think in the interest of having a backup, we’ll be keeping Coil’s blackmail on them. I’ve already got the most senior of the mercs coming down.”

“Then let’s do this, I’d really like to be able to go home at the end of this day, dad.”

“So do I, little owl, so do I.”

888888888888888888888888888888888

Commander Carlos Wilson got off the elevator onto the boss’ floor feeling the slightest bit of dread. Usually when an op went bust, even if it wasn’t anyone’s fault, the boss would call him down to have a few ‘words’. Those words were never pleasant, but that was par for the course in the world of capes. Coil never raised his voice or shouted, but you knew that he held your life in his hands.

He gave an inquisitive glance at Myers, still guarding the door, who returned an encouraging nod to him.

Good, that meant he was unlikely to catch a bullet for this last bungled op.

The door opened and inside Coil was at his usual place, with tented hands on his desk and regarding Wilson with scrutiny.

He strode forward and stood to attention, keeping his eyes locked forward. This wasn’t the military anymore, but Coil at least maintained a few modicums of a command hierarchy and discipline, finding it too useful to leave behind.

“Boss, reporting as ordered.”

“Thank you for coming, commander,” said Coil in his typical high hiss. “I’ve called you down here today to announce something of a change in circumstance for Fortress.”

Oh boy, this couldn’t be good, he thought.

“Sir?”

“You see, I need to make a bit of a confession at this point. My power’s usefulness is diminishing. This operation was to see if I could take out what I believed to be the source of that problem. Only, I was wrong.”

Carlos pondered that statement and found only bad conclusions to draw from that. It also didn’t bode well for job security.

“I see, sir. What do you intend to do next?”

“I intend to retire, commander. But do not fear, I’m leaving Fortress in hopefully more capable and versatile hands. Your job is yours to keep or if you wish to resign to the new owners, that is up to you.”

“Who are the new owners?”

Coil sat back and gestured behind Carlos, “They can introduce themselves.”

He froze, he hadn’t seen anyone else in the office but yet Coil was clearly looking at someone. He hadn’t heard the door open either.

Carlos turned around and his eyes widened in astonishment. His instincts screamed at him to draw his service pistol but just as quickly that notion vanished as he beheld the nude goddess standing casually there. Then he blinked and the goddess was now just a rather pretty nude young woman… it was the target, it was Taylor Hebert.

Next to her, was the girl’s father, Daniel, and Carlos’ eyes instantly picked out that he was wearing Coil’s modified Staccato pistol and looked supremely unconcerned, confident even. The guy didn’t even have his hand near the holster, keeping his hands folded behind his back.

Carlos tried to go for his own pistol again…

The goddess was back, staring at him with supreme disapproval. Her eyes lanced into his brain and his gaze was transfixed-

“Please don’t, Commander Wilson,” said the goddess, shaking her head, her perfect breasts swaying ever so slightly with the motion. He blinked again, Taylor Hebert was back and he winced at the mental whiplash of it. He realized… he was being mastered and… there was nothing he could do about it. Every time he even thought about resistance…

He shook his head to dispel the notion, looking back to Coil, who was staring at the young woman with wide dopey eyes.

It led to only one conclusion. “You mastered him, defeated him. Despite all the precautions and money spent.”

“Yes, I did,” she said, and walked forward to stand beside Coil’s desk. Carlos did his best, but was unable to keep his gaze away from her flexing, almost perfect backside as she walked. She stopped and turned, her breasts swaying again, the trimmed patch of pubic hair came into view, leading to a pussy and labia lips that stood boldly outward between her long legs, he closed his eyes, before fixing them firmly on her face. Her smile was knowing and her eyes twinkled in secret amusement at his struggles. “The paperwork has been processed and sent through already. My father and I own Fortress, commander. There is nothing you can do about that.”

“And even if I tried, you’d just master me to stop,” he said bitterly.

“Correct, but I don’t want to master you, commander. Coil and the employees of Fortress attacked my father. Coil intended to use you to kill me. So is it any surprise that I fight back when it’s my power to do so? If someone shot at you, commander, you’d shoot back.” He’d give her that one. “Now I hold the purse strings and what Coil said very much stands. He was just reading from our script. You are free to resign or stay on.”

Carlos’ mind raced as he considered his options. It’d be a pain in the ass to resign at this point. Coil had paid very well and to be even temporarily jobless in Brockton in the current economic environment was just not on the cards. He had alimony payments, two kids to support and a house to pay off. Food to put on his own table. The life insurance through Fortress was top notch, so even if he died in service, the kids would be cared for. If he left… all that went away.

There was no real choice and he could see she knew that. Coil had obviously given her access to everything.

“I’ll… stay, ma’am.”

“Good, I’m happy to hear that, but please, I’d rather you call me Escort or if you must use a pronoun, I’ll also answer to mistress.”

“Understood… mistress,” he said eventually, testing the word. Well, he supposed it made sense given her power.

Coil stood and left the big chair for her to sit in. The former boss simply walked to the side, where he sat on a small chair against the wall. Her father also stepped forward, coming to stand by her side.

“Dad,” she prompted.

Daniel Hebert or the new co-boss, cleared his throat. “Now commander, given your seniority and you’re what passes for the leader of the ‘troops’ so to speak. I think it only fair we give you a brief on what direction we’re taking Fortress.”

Escort swiveled one of the screens on the desk around for him to see what was on it. It was a live news feed of that radioactive Tinker train ‘from hell’ that had caused the city no end of problems.

“The Tinker train, sir?”

“If only commander, if only it was just that. What the news won’t tell you or even the PRT, is that the train is not from this universe.”

Carlos couldn’t help but be skeptical of such a bold, if not alarming claim. It was common knowledge at this point that alternate universes and dimensions were a proven thing, thanks to Doctor Haywire and the very real Earth Aleph. The danger of such alternate Earths was also widely understood. If the many countries of Earth Bet could barely get along, how much more magnified would it be if you multiplied that across multiple Earths. One of the nightmare scenarios that they had wargamed in the military was an invasion from a hostile alternate Earth. He’d also heard scuttlebutt that there were pre-signed kill orders for any cape that had even the slightest resemblance to the powers of Doctor Haywire.

“With respect, sir. How can you know this? Coil’s dossier on you both…”

“Is woefully wrong and incomplete, commander,” said Daniel with amusement. “We’ve read the version you were given and even Coil’s confidential version that he composed for himself.”

Escort tapped on the keyboard and displayed the dossiers in question to prove it.

“You see, the reason he targeted my daughter and I was because his Thinker power was extremely unreliable when focused on her. You’re welcome to read, go ahead.”

Carlos stepped forward to bring the digital documents into proper focus and quickly did a bit of speed reading. A few minutes later his head was somewhat reeling at the implications.

“I think I understand now, sir.”

“So you see, he hoped that killing my daughter would bring an end to his power’s reliability issues. Only the problem was that his power was also running into the same issue when directed at the train.”

“Sir, are you saying your daughter is-”

“No, she’s not from another universe, though her powers are. And that’s how she can know this train is not from around the multi-versal neighborhood, so to speak.”

Carlos struggled to resist looking at Escort in astonishment, because he knew once he did, his stupid traitorous eyes… and her father was right there! Why was she perpetually nude anyway? Coil’s dossier had thrown around theories from an avowed naturist to some sort of skin condition that forced it.

“Understood, sir.”

“Good, the train and her power, are unfortunately just the tip of a very big iceberg, commander. An iceberg that has already crashed into Earth Bet’s universe. More objects, entities and even people like the train are on the way.”

Escort stood and now in her hand was a long iron pipe, that was just slightly shorter than she was. She walked around and held it out to him. “Go on, take it.”

He took it in curiosity, wondering where she was going with this. The pipe settled in his hands and he idly tested the weight, seeing the molded markings and numbers running along its length, indicating the company who had made it, dimensions and so on.

He then nearly jumped out of his skin when the pipe started to honk a distinct… tune?

He barely kept a hold of the bizarre thing.

It then stopped honking a tune and then… Morse Code?

“What is this?” he asked, hurriedly holding out the thing to Escort.

“That is another extra-universal object, commander. A sentient pipe or as we call it, by its codename, SCP-15.”

Carlos Wilson would in the future, mark this point in time as when the world had officially stopped making sense. The father daughter duo continued their presentation and spoke of more ‘SCPs’.

Anomalies.

Things that would potentially depopulate the planet, destroy the entire bloody universe they lived in!

It was crazy! It was nuts! How can this be happening? What were they supposed to do about it? What could they do about it?

The goddess was back and he only had eyes for her beauty. He felt his penis begin to eagerly grow and strain against his underwear. She was right there. A perfect hand on his shoulder.

Then Escort was back again and he mentally reeled.

“Sorry, commander. I saw you were struggling and spiraling downward in despair.”

He took deep breaths in and out, going through an old relaxation exercise. “No, it’s… all right… mistress. Thank you for pulling me out. I should be better than this.”

She shook her head ruefully, “No, commander. I’ve been down the same road. I face that same demon daily and I don’t even have the luxury of sleep to escape from it. You see, we intend to use Fortress exactly as its name implies. A place and people who are dedicated to protecting this universe from the threat that the incoming SCPs poses. Some SCPs will be housed safely here, as they are merely objects that have no threat unless they are used, others will be dealt with as their nature allows. Some SCPs we will even help and try to integrate into society, presenting them as parahumans, or even offer them employment in Fortress. Letting them help us deal with other SCPs and in some cases, we will have no choice but to destroy the SCP, if possible. If it’s impossible, and it has to be contained, we will do so, if necessary, even asking the PRT and Protectorate for help.”

He continued his exercise and latched onto the words she was saying like a lifeline.

After a few minutes he had his equilibrium back, but was still on shaky feet. He latched onto the only question his mind was in a state to articulate. “What about Coil’s territory, mistress? Are we going to keep it?”

“More than likely, yes. If only to deny its potential income to the Empire. In terms of the protection payments that Coil charged the businesses in the south-west, I’ll be slowly reducing it over time, bringing it more in line with what an actual security firm or insurer would charge. If the Empire attacks we defend, but we’ll not be poaching territory from the other gangs. Our concerns are greater now.”

He nodded in understanding and Escort turned to her father.

Daniel nodded at her to some unspoken message, walked past the desk and left the office, closing the door behind him.

Carlos became acutely aware of how close she was now, her hand slowly moved up, lightly brushing on his neck, a finger delicately caressing his jaw.

“M- mistress?”

“You do know what I do as a night job,” she stated softly, stepping directly in front of him with barely a hand’s breadth separating them. His traitorous eyes only had to slightly look down to meet hers, she was rather tall.

“I thought that was also in error?”

She laughed melodiously, a pleasant tinkle in his ears, that caressed them as surely as her finger was leaving oddly pleasurable feelings along his jawline just from a touch. “Oh no, commander. Coil got that one right.”

The finger went down his neck, then began fiddling with the button on his collar and his straining member really began to get uncomfortable.

“Uh, mistress, are you… I mean your father is right outside,” he said desperately as the first button popped.

She laughed again, “And you think he doesn’t know?”

“He does?” he said, then remembered the silent interplay between them from moments before. His second button popped and he could only think about what kind of father would allow his daughter to be a prostitute.

Escort tutted at him as the third button was undone. “Don’t judge him. Of course, he’d prefer I didn’t, but asking me to stop is like asking me to stop breathing or eating.”

The remaining buttons were undone blisteringly fast and her hand was on his abdomen, leaving trails of burning pleasure in its wake.

His wits were slowly turning to jelly. “You mean… you actually need to have sex… to live?”

“Yes, for now, just think of this as a new company perk for its employees.”

“If I say no?”

Her hand froze. “Then you say no. Are you saying no, Commander Wilson?”

It had indeed been a while since he had any company in bed. The last being his ex-wife. The opportunity for a few one-night stands had been there, but in this day and age, he didn’t want to risk coming down with an STI and the associated medical expenses.

“Have you had any problems with, uh, S-”

Her smile was smoldering, “Commander, a mundane disease could no more affect me, than an ant could hope to trip you up.”

His final answer was to pull away his urban camo top and dump it on the floor.

Escort hands grabbed him by the biceps, then turned him around and against the desk as easily as he would move a child. It was distinctly odd and he belatedly realized that she probably had a considerable Brute rating. He was no lightweight, after all. Tipping the scales at almost 180 pounds of muscle that he worked hard at keeping in shape.

She knelt and worked on his belt buckle. He helped by removing his pistol holster and placing it on the desk.

In the next moment, he felt her grab his camo pants, belt and underwear in one handhold and she pulled down.

He sighed in relief as his engorged penis bounced into view, lancing into the air forward and toward her face.

She smiled and almost gasped with delight, her hand coming forward to caress around the base of the shaft and his smooth balls. “Shave it all off, do we?”

He gritted his teeth at pleasure of her touch as her fingers caressed slowly all over. “Yes. Gets sweaty down there after a long patrol.”

“Hmmm, but I think we’re missing something before we continue,” she said thoughtfully.

What that was, she didn’t elaborate on. She just stood, keeping a hold of his member, took a measured step back and bent forward at the waist until her face was level with his crotch again. Her mouth worked a bit and she dropped a decent bit of saliva on the base of his shaft, and pumped him with her hand to liberally spread it.

Carlos hissed and grit his teeth as that feeling hit his brain. That… that wasn’t normal. It felt like his cock had just been bathed in burning liquid pleasure.

Then she moved forward, taking his member into her mouth to the hilt in one smooth motion.

What wits he had was smashed completely.

She also knew what she was doing - she wasn’t just sucking and pumping by moving her head, but her tongue was dancing and moving on the underside of his penis, seemingly hitting and playing every nerve ending there perfectly like a maestro.

He groaned and could only look at the ceiling as this continued, fighting with everything he had to just let this sensation continue for eternity, his breathing sped up with the effort.

The door to the office opened and he latched onto the distraction. Belatedly realizing he didn’t care one whit whoever this was, and only now did he remember that Coil was still sitting against the wall, watching.

Coming into the office was Myers… who was already nude, his erect member swaying side to side as he walked forward. His goal was obvious, as he only had eyes for Escort’s waiting ass that she had pre-positioned for him.

Myers paused a moment, using his right hand to help aim precisely and with one smooth movement inserted himself into Escort’s waiting pussy from behind.

Carlos felt her groan in pleasure around his own dick, only for her to redouble her efforts and his world was once again reduced to just feeling this. He closed his eyes to aid his brinkmanship and he heard the wet suction sounds of her mouth and the rhythmic slapping of flesh on flesh as Myers hips began pounding against Escort’s butt as he railed into her eagerly.

Despite his best efforts, after he didn’t know how long, he eventually succumbed and the bliss of release thundered through his body from his groin as he instinctively thrust his hips forwards.

His wits recovered enough for him to open his eyes and look down.

Escort was eagerly still lapping at his manhood, taking everything. He couldn’t help but place his hand on her head, gently caressing her lustrous long hair as she kept sucking and then slowly withdrew.

Her eyes were closed in ecstasy and enjoyment as she kept his seed in her mouth, relishing it, tasting it, making every moment last for as long as possible before swallowing.

The moment she did though, it seemed even her own control was fraying as she began moaning and groaning in resistance as Myers sped up his strokes into her.

Her soft yet ultra strong arms circled around Carlos hips to support herself.

“Oh ffuuuck!” she groaned with gritted teeth before letting out a scream of pleasure. Carlos blinked as Myers’ hips were drenched from a squirting release of an orgasm from her folds.

Myers didn’t pause, continuing to pump into her, but much more rapidly, building and building until he too groaned and pushed, going as deep as he could, twitching and shooting his load into her.

They stayed that way for a long minute before she sighed with regret and stepped forward. Myers slipped out of her and he took a step back, strangely he was still rock hard.

Escort straightened herself and Carlos couldn’t help but eagerly drink in the sight of her, especially as her nipples were now rock hard and perky, breasts heaving as she gained her breath back. They weren’t particularly big, but just enough to be able to play with. They were also not likely to get in the way or be an inconvenience when running.

“Thank you, Myers, Commander Wilson,” she said at last.

“A pleasure, mistress,” Myers nodded with an eager smile.

She walked around the desk and took a seat on the high backed chair, folding her legs together in typical feminine fashion.

Carlos started getting himself sorted out, pulling up his pants and underwear, and buckling his belt.

“Oh, of course, Myers, do get dressed in your new uniform, please.”

“At once, mistress.”

Carlos picked up his camo top and began buttoning it. “So how often does this perk happen, mistress?”

“Too many factors to reliably answer you, commander,” she smiled mildly at him. “I was indeed being serious, you know? My food, all I can eat, is semen.”

Carlos found himself rather baffled. What an odd expression of her powers, he thought. He generally knew quite a bit about parahumans. Coil made sure none of his soldiers were ignorant of the capes they might face in Brockton. Case 53s were usually the ones saddled with distinct functional disabilities like that. In addition, if that was the case, she now had an entire base full of men at her command that could fulfill her need. He rather didn’t know how to feel about the fact that he was just used as lunch, the sex more than made up for it though.

“Is there anything else, mistress?”

“Yes, though my father and I are interviewing and informing everyone eventually about the change in management and goals, I’d like your help in crafting a memo to send out, which will at least give the bare bones and not cause a ruckus.”

“We’re mercenaries, mistress. You hold the purse now, I know the guys, they won’t give trouble,” he pointed out.

“Coil has a number of them blackmailed to a level that might make their loyalty to him about more than just money, commander.”

Carlos nodded in understanding, so it was housecleaning time. “I see, mistress. I could carefully gather those who would accept the change, inform them discreetly and we can proceed from there.”

“We’ve already identified the ones we want to let go, those who would not be… compatible with the new direction we’re taking. If you could also be on standby should they be… rowdy?”

“I’ll gather a team, mistress,” he nodded.

“Good,” she smiled brilliantly. He heard the door open again and Myers returned.

He was wearing his gun belt, but was otherwise still completely nude.

Carlos gulped with dread and felt only incredulity, “This is the new uniform, mistress?”

She laughed melodiously, “Oh, your face is just priceless. The answer is, yes and no. That will be the ‘uniform’ for those who are on guard duty to me. When not on direct guard duty, you can choose ‘skyclad’ or the urban camo around the base. Naturally, it will still be full armor out on assignment.”

Carlos was very relieved, though didn’t show it. Nevertheless, Escort gave him a wicked twinkling smirk as if she knew anyway.

“Very well, mistress.”

“Let’s get this memo written then. Oh, Myers, do call my father and get Pitter here with the mop and bucket. I always leave a bit of a mess.”

888888888888888888888888888888888

No new SCPs

888888888888888888888888888888888

A/N: And so it begins. The Fortress Foundation. Have a great weekend everyone.