Chapter 15 – Saving America! Sort of?

(35 miles south of Kandahar, Afghanistan - Insurgent Held Area - 25th January 2020)

"Watchtower. This is White Bishop; we have eyes on the target location," Master Sergeant Frank Rock whispered into his comms unit while laying flat on his stomach looking down at a hive of activity. "Watchtower, be advised, enemy strength is at least four times greater than mission parameters predicted. Please advise?"

As Frank sent the message, he heard a snort from his second-in-command next to him, not that he could blame the man. When it came to their type of work, 'greater than mission parameters' was a polite way of saying intelligence had really fucked up, and 'Please advise' meant 'we need to fucking leave'. He had a few moments before HQ was going to get back to him, so he quickly glanced at the 12-man team that was mostly laid out in a line on either side of him. He knew each of them, trusted them, and didn't want to have them throw their lives away on the impossible.

The mission had originally been intended as a covert search and destroy mission. The local terrorist cell was apparently cooking up some sort of drug for the black market to fund terror attacks. So, orders were to find the lab, destroy it and then go home, nice, quick and simple. However, looking at the literal fortress that was below him, he knew something had been left out of the report, no simple heroin shop needed this much protection. If his men went in with their current numbers they'd do some damage, yes, but everyone would be kissing sand and dirt permanently.

"White Bishop, stand by for new orders" The Colonel's voice broke the Sergeant out of his grim predictions.

Frank grimaced. If 'greater than mission parameters' meant intelligence had really fucked up, and 'Please advise' meant he needed to fucking leave, then 'stand by for new orders' meant shut up and get ready to be fucked. He shifted where he lay so that he could see his men better and signalled the troops to get ready. His order went down as well as he expected it to, no one made a sound due to their location, but he could see the resigned looks they all had on their faces. However, as he readied his weapon, he heard a sound that shouldn't have been present, especially as he looked up and saw not a cloud in the sky.

The sound he had heard was a very loud crack of thunder.

His eyes immediately started raking the sky as did his men, because they all knew what thunder with no clouds meant. Something was travelling at supersonic speeds, mostly likely a missile, given their location, but seeing as no explosion had occurred, a fighter jet was much more likely.

"Watchtower, please advise, we have a possible bird in the sky." Frank leaned into his comms before looking upward, then glanced back at the enemy compound which was now streaming with activity. "Be advised, target location is now on alert, and a covert approach is now impossible, permission to disengage."

"White Bishop, this is Black King," Frank felt himself tense up as the voice every black-ops operator knew sounded in his ears. It was the voice of General Sam Lane, "Your mission parameters have changed, we have an asset inbound. You are now operating in a support capacity."

"Support capacity?" Frank asked, however before he could question anything further, the sound of thunder shook the sky overhead, and this time it was accompanied by blur slamming down in front of their position.

"Master Sergeant Rock, pleasure to meet you," Frank's eyes could do nothing but widen as he looked up and saw Superman standing in front of him. "I would advise your men to stay here, I can deal with this. I would like to avoid casualties on both sides."

"Um…. Okay?" Frank asked, peering up at the very large man whilst lying prone on the ground, finding himself a little confused and a tiny bit intimidated under the gaze of the superhero.

He and everyone else had heard of how supes were now part of the military, but in truth apart from a few photo ops the Vought Heroes hadn't really done anything. Before he could ask anything of the man in the bright colourful costume, the newcomer was gone. A rush of air and a little sand covered him as Superman pushed off of the ground and rocketed towards the insurgent camp.

Clark stopped mid-air, his eyes sweeping over the facility that Lois' father had informed him of during his 'briefing' the thought still made him grimace. Clark was not happy to be doing any of this, in fact, he had all been ready to tell the government to go to hell and then refuse any orders from them. He'd been even more resistant when the first one they had given was to go execute a man without a trial and then to go kill Homelander after he was done, all in the name of patriotism.

The only reason he was doing any of this was because of what was being produced in the 'factory' below him: Compound V. Ever since Homelander's insane plan had come to light, Clark and the US government had been trying to track down where he had shipped it to and who was taking it. Despite his extreme objection, bordering on hatred, of what Homelander had done, Clark had to concede the man had put more care and thought into distributing the drug than he believed the short-tempered narcissist was capable of. The trail was nearly impossible to follow from Homelander's side, so it meant that they were only finding labs and factories like this after they appeared on the US intelligence radar. That was only ever after a superpowered individual appeared and a lot of people died.

Clark was brought out of his musing by the sound of gunfire and the small feeling of pressure rippling over his body as the insurgents started to shoot at him. He did nothing as the entire insurgent base lit up in a barrage of bullets, every guard and terrorist with a gun firing at him. He waited for a few moments as some of the guards exchanged their AK47s for heavy calibre guns and a few even grabbed RPGs. It was about two whole minutes before the flashing of gunfire and explosions stopped, mostly due to the terrorist's ammo supplies running dry. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, causing more than a few of the men present to back away from him in fear.

Clark quickly surveyed the area and seeing no V or anything else dangerous in the courtyard he was in moved forward into the main building. The guards moved to stop him, hefting their guns to fire at him once more and when their bullets failed tried to club him, their weapons shattering against his skin. He didn't even need to push them away or lift his hands, most just backed away seeing they couldn't stop him, and the few brave enough to leap onto him did nothing to slow him down, with a slight flex of his muscles the men flew off of him. After this display and the one outside, the remaining men mostly ran rather than fight.

He eventually reached the area of the building he was after. Most of the structure was just a storage area for weapons, vehicles and supplies, but what was in front of him was the prize. It was a very large, very clean white medical room which clashed with the rest of the rusting structure, and it was filled with medical equipment. The room was occupied by only 6 men, 5 were wearing lab coats, and looked to be in their 40s to '60s, the other occupant was clearly a guard, a guard who was holding the older man in a tight grip and was pressing a gun to his forehead.

"Stay back or I kill him!" The guard yelled in his native Pashto, fear evident in his eyes as he sweated. "You tell him, he leaves or I kill you!"

"H-he is saying that if you don't leave, he will ki-" The older man in the lab coat trembled as he tried to translate the guard's word's before Clark cut him off.

"I understand, release him now and leave." The guard's eyes widened as Clark's steady calm voice replied in his native tongue, his eyes however turned into red pools of energy that blasted a hole into the lab bench next to the guard. "If you don't, I will have to hurt you."

The guard was shaking now, fear evident in every fibre of his body, he looked from Clark's red glowing eyes to the smoldering hole next to him. Clark didn't even need to flash his eyes or move a muscle before the guard pushed the older man away from him and ran out of the room. Clark kept watching, making sure the man was truly committed to leaving before refocusing his attention on the men in front of him.

"Please don't hurt us, we are not terrorists!" The older man was quick to raise his hands up, his voice shaking slightly as he looked from the destroyed bench to Clark. "We were forced to work with these people, they have our families."

"I am here to help, are your families here?" Clark moved forward trying to be as non-threatening as possible.

"They are in the small building on the south end of the compound," One of the other scientists moved forward, shaking a little but seeming willing to trust the superpowered stranger.

"Alright, I'll go and get them, then get all of you to safety," Clark promised, giving the lead captured scientist a firm nod, "I also need to know the compound you were making where is it."

The scientists looked at each other. Each one shifted uncomfortably, exchanging looks before the majority looked back to the elder scientist and gave him a few reluctant nods. The elder scientist nodded back before gulping and then looking over to Clark, then he wrung his hands a few times as he worked up his nerves.

"We could only make a few vials and they… they already took them a week ago. W-we don't know where they went." The elder scientist shook as he spoke, his nerves clearly fraying fearing that the bad news would cause Clark to react with violence. "But, ah, we are starting to make more over there!"

The elder scientist quickly pointed to the far side of the lab where chemistry equipment including a centrifuge was humming away, separating and purifying various chemicals and compounds. Clark narrowed his vision and then quickly scanned the area to make sure there was nothing else. Satisfied, his eyes flashed red one more time and annihilated the chemistry equipment. Clark frowned in anger at what the facility represented.. More V in the world was not ideal, but there was nothing he could do for now except take out the operation around him.

"Thank you." Clark returned his focus to the scientists, his eyes becoming crystal blue once more as he put a friendly smile on his face. "Now let's get your families."

Outside Frank and his men had given up hiding and were now merely sitting on the ridge as they watched Superman tear through the insurgent encampment. No one said a word, but he knew what all of his men were thinking because he was thinking the same thing.

Thank Christ he's on our side!

Superman was, in a word, unstoppable, and what made his actions even more alarming and inspiring was that he hadn't even hurt anyone. The superpowered man was just casually strolling through the base and letting the enemy's fire roll harmlessly off of him. Occasionally there was a flash of red light that destroyed a section of wall, but as they watched the soldiers could clearly see not a single casualty had taken place. It was about 10 or 15 minutes later when Superman reappeared, this time not flying but on foot carrying a child in one arm as he led a group of men and women to Frank's position.

"Sergeant, call in a medevac, some of these people need treatment," Superman spoke as he handed the child in his hands to a woman next to him, "And then they all need to be relocated somewhere safe, they can't stay in this country."

Frank looked at the more than 3 dozen people who were standing by Superman and wanted to protest that this mission was classified and that he couldn't call in an evac nor did he have the authority to promise them protection. However, as he tilted his head slightly to the right he could see the remains of the compound in the valley below, now on fire and clear of all insurgents who had fled. As he looked at it the main building suddenly exploded, reinforcing the point his mind had already reached, he was very much not going to argue with the man in front of him.

"You've got it, sir," Frank nodded and then nodded to his tech specialist to get it sorted.

"Thank you, Sergeant. Apologies but I need to leave these people with you. I'm needed elsewhere." Clark stretched out his hand and shook Frank's hand before giving a nod to the men who had waited patiently on the ridge.

"No problem, sir, another mission?" Frank asked as he took his hand back trying to hide a wince from Superman's strong grip.

"Sort of. I'm delivering medical supplies to refugees in Syria. Thank you again for your help Sergeant," Superman gave the Sergeant another thankful nod before moving off to a less crowded area before taking off.

Frank just watched as Superman rocketed into the sky before letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in before chuckling as he watched the American icon disappear into the sky.

"Well shit. God help anyone who fucks with Uncle Sam now."

(The Seven Meeting Room, Vought Tower – New York City– 26th January 2020)

The iconic table where the Seven met was almost dead silent as Stan Edgar sat and stared, quietly sipping a cup of his favourite espresso as everyone else pored over the contract they were here to review. In truth, the meeting likely should have been held in their DC offices or even in the Pentagon. but he had insisted it be held here. It almost brought a smile to his face he remembered how quickly the D.O.D had caved to his demand, which had largely been to show them who was in charge but also because he really didn't want to have to sit in that godawful helicopter the company had just to take a meeting in DC.

"I'm on page 134. Chain of command doesn't apply to other military contractors in the field; I don't see why it should apply to us." Edgar leaned back in his seat as he gestured to the very large binder he had open next to him.

"Well, when they're in actual combat, whom exactly do your heroes report to?" Robert A. Singer. the US Secretary of Defense, leaned back in his own chair, a snarl almost on his face, hating this meeting as much as anyone could hate anything in the world.

"Same person as always: Me." Edgar replied his voice even and his face emotionless as ever as he picked up his cup again and held it up allowing it to be quickly refilled.

Robert forced himself to remain calm and gave a quick look over to his legal team that sat on his side of the V-shaped table. The military lawyers and officers looked at each other and whispered before their lead counsel gave his boss a reluctant nod. In truth he wasn't surprised, the whole meeting had gone this way, Vought raised something they wanted to be changed, it got changed. They raised a point and it was shot down.

"Excellent, moving on. Subheading 16. We need a top-secret, Yankee White designation for Compound V." Edgar took a quick sip of espresso, not bothering to look at the document now as they were finally wrapping up.

"Come on, Stan. Only one man okays that." Robert finally forced himself to defend the D.O.D.'s position, Vought was pushing this too far. "You want to stroll into the Oval Office and start barking orders?"

"Yes." Edgar's blunt reply and calm voice pretty much hammered the Secretary of Defense back into place. "Half our own heroes don't know they have Compound V in their veins. You want China finding out?"

"Fuck it, fine. I'll call POTUS and get him to swallow this crock of shit" Robert couldn't help himself but curse earning a look from his team and Vought's but no one said anything, it didn't even faze Edgar "However, I have to insist on this one: "Best efforts to limit collateral damage"? We'd prefer stronger wording."

"That's the standard language for our New York contract. L.A., Chicago." Edgar listed off, but gave a small sigh, deciding he could afford to be magnanimous. "But to keep everyone happy, we'll change it to something like… Our very best efforts to limit collateral damage."

"Exactly what casualty allowance are we looking at here?" Robert's scowl actually deepened which was the first impressive thing Edgar had seen the man do all meeting.

"Officially? Zero, of course." He replied immediately. having known the question was going to come up and was prepared for it, only pausing to sip his espresso. "But, cone of silence? 34%. Conservatively"

"Jesus," Robert again had to reel in his anger and his disgust at the meeting before forcing himself to refocus on the task at hand. "Okay, what about Superman?"

"Regarding Mr. Kent, I wasn't aware there was an issue. It was my understanding that he was already working seamlessly with your people." Edgar finished his cup off and set it back down his focus on the man in front of him.

"He represents a much larger potential issue." Robert pressed his eyes narrowing at the smug bastard he had been forced to deal with.

"Which is?" Edgar's eyebrows quirked up, his eyes never leaving Robert's.

"Insubordination," The Secretary of Defence shot back leaning forward in his chair while his left hand balled into a fist and pressed to the table.

"Oh come now, I've read the reports. He's taken out nearly a dozen training camps, several labs, and even captured a few terrorists you've had your eyes on for a while." Edgar scoffed at the ridiculous point his adversary was trying to launch. "All without any casualties, I might add, on either side. Not to mention the aid work he's done delivering supplies and helping with aid relief. All great PR for you and the service."

"Yes, he has, by repeatedly ignoring orders. Half of those camps he was not cleared to engage with, those labs he took out were ones we have no idea where he found out about them, and he refuses to inform us. He repeatedly interferes in the regions where our troops are deployed without checking in, which usually results in a headache for our intelligence assets in the area."

Robert started rattling off the grievances that had been piling up on his desk in Washington since the Vought Bill had passed. That wasn't to mention the fact that he had people like Sam Lane screaming their heads off to anyone that would listen that supes and Vought in the military was a disaster. His only saving grace there was that the outspoken General had the tact to do it in private and behind closed doors.

"And that isn't even mentioning those supplies and aid he delivered on our behalf were straight up stolen from us! He didn't ask permission or clearance; he just took them and then handed them out to random refugee groups around the world. Most have been in countries we are not cleared to be in."

"Yes, well, not that your diatribe wasn't interesting, but I'm not hearing anything you specifically want done." Edgar interlaced his fingers and brought them to rest on his knee as he leaned back further into his custom designed chair.

"What I am asking is what assurances do we have that you can keep your people in line?" The Secretary of Defence glared daggers at the Vought CEO not willing to drop this topic as he had been forced to do with everything else.

"Well Bob, we have kept our assets in line for 70 years without fail, from Soldier Boy to Homelander. We have ways of guaranteeing compliance, regardless of their abilities." Edgar's emotionless stare sent a chill down Robert's spine, and he couldn't help but flinch, earning a small smile from his opponent. "However, if you want assurances, then you may have mine."

"Yours?" Robert asked, his eyebrows raising in confusion as he looked at the cold calculating CEO.

"Yes, you have my personal assurance that I will maintain order. I have…..let's call them contingencies for all our heroes that will put them back in line promptly. Now, seeing as we are almost finished, let's order lunch in."

Robert could help but shift in his seat as he leaned back, his mind processing what he had just been told. He also wasn't sure what was more disturbing: the fact that Vought had contingencies in place or that their CEO seemed so casual about the fact.

(Samaritan Embrace Auditorium – Down Town New York – 27th January 2020)

The room fell silent as Homelander approached the podium, to most of the people gathered his look of quiet reluctance seemed genuine as did the sombreness in which he held himself together. However, as Clark sat in the front, he could tell it was all an act, Homelander was just playing to the crowd. Clark was only there to keep up appearances and keep an eye on Homelander, since the fiasco which was last year he had decided to follow the old axiom 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.'

"Today I can report to the American people that Black Noir has conducted an operation killing the Super Terrorist known as Naqib."

Homelander paused as the crowd applauded the news, which only caused Clark to repress a sigh. The Government had originally requested that he lead the mission and take out Naqib but he had turned them down, once it was clear that they had no interest in taking the man alive. So they had moved right on to the next superpowered person on their list and evidently Black Noir had done the deed.

"But that doesn't mean sacrifices won't still be made. The proof of that, sadly...lies before us. For today, we mourn a fallen member of The Seven. Translucent."

Homelander moved over to the empty casket that was supposed to be holding Translucent's mortal remains, but in reality was just an empty box. The only thing that was preventing Clark from snorting or rolling his eyes was his self-control and the fact he was sitting next to Maverick, the fallen hero's son. Homelander moved forward to stand in front of the casket, his voice sombre and pensive as he expertly lied to the crowd.

"Murdered in cold blood by the cartel Super Terrorist El Diablo. Before he left, Translucent said to me..."

The voice trailed off as Clark stopped listening. He had partially moved into the Tower now that he was officially replacing the Deep. He knew he needed to do it to keep Annie safe, but it didn't stop him from hating it. Every morning for the past few days, he had heard Homelander practice this fictional version of events in the mirror. So he knew what was coming. First the voice crack, then the fake tears, the soulful promise to Maverick, and finally the barely-veiled pivot towards making the whole event about himself.

"…..to all the great sons and daughters of this great nation. I will save you." Homelander's voice faded back into Clark's thoughts mostly because his senses picked up that Annie had moved onto the stage for her musical number. "I'll do it for you. For America. And for a dear…..dear old friend. Goodbye brother, and thank you."

As the lights faded from Homelander and the casket there was a small round of applause before the spotlight appeared on Annie. She was wearing her original costume; Vought had tried to push her back into their more racy version but Clark had squashed that very quickly. Which brought his mind to the matter most concerning him these days, protecting Annie. He knew she was still talking to Hughie and was getting involved in some plan to try to take down Vought. The only reason he hadn't confronted her yet was that she and Hughie had done nothing but talk, yet, and he didn't want to risk exposing things by confronting her; he knew the two of them were under close watch.

As the song ended there was another round of applause and a moment of scheduled respectful silence as pallbearers appeared from off-stage to take up 'Translucent's' casket and then carried it off stage. What followed next was a little milling around as people paid their respects to Maverick and chatted before they started to spill outside. As they exited Clark made it a point to be the focus of attention for a few moments, which allowed the boy and his mother to graciously leave without being swarmed by the media. As they reached their car, the woman gave him a thankful nod which he returned before she got into the car and drove off.

Clark's attention was then directed back to his current situation as the world around him exploded into flashes and shouts from the thousands of fans that had come to pay tribute to their fallen hero. As he waved, doing his best to keep up appearances Homelander and Annie also appeared. Their arrival and joining in consoling the crowd caused the flashes of cameras to go even crazier and the shouts from the crowd to grow louder. He was about to try and leave when a Vought assistant appeared next to him and pointed him over to an area with a cameraman and crew already waiting.

"Superman please this way we've got your interview with Vought Daily World News Network, already set up. As per Miss Clark's instructions, it's the only one we have scheduled to keep you free and clear." The assistant smiled as she quite artfully moved Clark over to the waiting interview before he could register what was happening or protest.

However, by the time he had opened his mouth to say anything the woman was already gone, and the camera was on him. He forced a smile on his face as he knew what was coming next the Vought Daily World News Network had once been the Daily Planet News Network and was Lois's current employer. He hadn't seen or spoken to Lois since last September when they had recused everyone from Vought and still wasn't sure how he felt about everything. Officially she had been away doing her show overseas whilst embedded with Heroes serving in the military, the truth he suspected was she was making up her stories and was hiding somewhere until she was sure she was safe.

"So, Superman, a very emotional day. How are you feeling?" Clark had to keep the surprise off his face as instead of Lois appearing before him, it was VDWNN's second reporter Cat Grant.

"Well, Cat, it has been very emotional for many people. Translucent meant a great deal to many, and I just hope today can bring a sense of closure to most of them." Clark kept his smile on as he answered the question without lying or really answering it either.

Whilst Lois would never have let that fly, Cat didn't seem to register what Clark had just done so continued on with the rest of the interview. It wasn't a very long or engaging one so Clark mainly switched off and let his brain answer on autopilot. It was only a few minutes later when Cat was signing off and the cameraman turned off his camera, he was just about to leave when Cat caught him off-guard again.

"Um, Clark? I mean Superman, or are you okay with me calling you Clark?" Cat shifted awkwardly as she grabbed his attention before he left, clearly her confidence didn't extend to being off-camera.

"Whatever you are comfortable with, I do prefer Clark however." He smiled helping settle her nerves, as she gave him her own smile. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Not really. I just wanted to ask if you've heard from Lois at all?" Cat's question caught him massively off-guard.

"Wait, you haven't heard from her?" Clark asked, alarm spiking through his body as he felt his blood turn to ice in his veins.

"Not exactly, she's still talking to Perry and filing stories. I know she's supposed to be overseas, but no one else has talked to her, and Jimmy's still here." Cat moved closer to him so that she wouldn't be accidentally overheard by anyone.

"Jimmy?" Clark's brain raced to recall all the Jimmys he knew, but none matched up with Lois.

"Jimmy is her cameraman, great guy, one of the best. She's never done a story without him, especially not one overseas or near active combat. She used to joke that he was her good luck charm." Cat sighed as glanced around them knowing she didn't have long before their conversation became the focus of major attention. "I might be overthinking it, and I know I'm not as great a reporter as she is, but I still have good instincts. Something just feels off."

"I understand, I haven't spoken to Lois in… a while, but the first chance I get I'll check in with her and make sure she's okay," Clark promised. His stomach started doing backflips, he wasn't sure if it was worry over Lois or the thought of seeing her again.

Cat gave him a grateful nod and quickly moved off, satisfied with his promise to check in with her friend. As she moved away Clark looked over to see that Annie and Homelander had both finished their interview and were getting ready to leave. Seeing his chance he moved away from the crowd line, gave one last wave and then took off heading back to the tower.

(82nd Floor The Seven Tower – Stan Edgar's Office)

Stan Edgar didn't even look up from the report he was reading when he felt the gust of wind blow through his office. He didn't need to look up to know which Superhero had come to pay him a visit.

He knew exactly who it was, only 6 superabled individuals on the planet produced that type of result when they arrived, and out of those 6, only 2 had the nerve to approach him without an appointment. From those two, it was a simple matter of registering the sloppiness of the arrival. Homelander's arrival always made a mess, papers blowing everywhere the gust of wind was hard and caused an unpleasant sensation on one's face. Superman's however was refined and elegant almost, it was done with precision and timing and resulted in nothing more than a light lifting of papers and a gentle breeze stroking one's face.

"Mr. Kent, how fortuitous. I was just reading a report on your activities in Syria." Edgar carefully closed the file he had been readying and greeted the hero with a friendly smile. "Very thorough, precise and well executed. Excellent PR for the company, although I can name about a dozen members of the DOD who have issues with it."

"Well, my job is to save lives, not take them. As for the medicine and food, I only took what could be spared without harming existing relief efforts or compromising the safety of American personnel." Clark replied, shutting the window he had come in through and taking the seat in front of the CEO's desk.

"Yes, like I said, precise and well executed. Still, it ruffled a few feathers at the Pentagon, one should be careful doing that." Edgar leaned back in his chair, interlacing his fingers as he did so. "However, I don't believe seeking my advice on this matter is why you are here no?"

"No it isn't," Clark nodded, he found it odd but Stan Edgar was one of the few people he felt he could be genuinely direct with and brutally honest as duplicitous as he was Stan Edgar always valued frankness in private. "We need to talk about Homelander, he isn't getting more stable, he's getting worse and he discovered that little secret you were hiding away. I want to know what's being done?"

"Being done?" Edgar raised a curious eyebrow.

"Yes, to keep Rebecca Butcher and Ryan safe. Along with everyone else, you and I both know who put V in the world and that's the tip of a very large iceberg." Clark leaned forward in his chair, the action added gravitas to his already imposing figure. "What is your plan to contain Homelander?"

"Whilst I do appreciate your 'vigilance' on this matter, it's not necessary. Whatever plans Vought does or does not have regarding any superabled person in their employ, including Homelander, is strictly confidential you understand."

"Not necessary?" Clark scoffed, his eyebrows raising at the words he was hearing and shaking his head a little. "I think it is seeing as Homelander has discovered your main contingency plans for him and that I'm currently thing capable of stopping him from destroying everything."

"You know what I have always respected about you, Mr Kent?" Edgar gave Clark what could only be described as a respectful yet detached smile. "It's not your powers, far too many fools have those, these days. It's your ability to manage situations, any situation that you find yourself in. Did you know more than 60% of tier 1 superheroes at your age are near insolvency and completely reliant on us to maintain their lifestyles?"

"Am I to assume that is completely by chance?" Clark's rhetorical question earned him a small nod of concession.

"You, however, are not only financially secure but have built yourself quite the portfolio over the years. The Kent family land holdings are one of the largest in the US, and your own personal holdings are not insignificant. You hold stock in various companies including Vough,t nearly 5% through various subsidiaries and brokers" Edgar mused his mind recalling all the data and information on Clark's finances as if they were in front of him. "In fact, you could easily retire off of the passive income and assets that you possess, even before royalties."

"What's your point?" Clark's eyes narrowed, feeling a subtle shift in the other man's tone that told him that the good nature of the meeting was about to come to an abrupt end.

"Nothing in particular Mr Kent, merely reflecting on your good fortune and your ability to choose the right position given circumstances." Stan gave a purse of his lips, almost as if he was trying to smile slyly, but years of putting on a poker face had robbed his muscles of the memory to do it right. "If there were a point, hypothetically, it would just be that myself and Vought are very well informed regarding the actions of all our heroes. And with such knowledge would be able to keep them in line."

Clark was quiet for a moment, his eyes narrowed as such the Vought CEO's face. He knew what was happening, he had experienced this before, he was being warned to stay out of something, to keep in his lane. However, where in the past he could simply ignore those people and carry on with his work, he felt this time was different. He had this uncomfortable feeling that there was something that Stan Edgar knew, something that was about to shift the dynamic of their relationship.

"And how are you going to keep Homelander in line?" Clark pressed, deciding that if Stan Edgar wanted to go down this route then he was more than willing to roll the dice as well. "Without Ryan or me?"

"We have our ways, Mr Kent, we have our ways. In my experience everything can be managed, and everyone has something they value which can be leveraged." Stan Edgar leaned forward now his cold eyes meeting Clark's warm sapphire blue ones. "Even your extracurricular work with General Lane can be accommodated, regardless of its legality. As long as it's done in the company's interest."

Clark chuckled, he was a little disappointed with the Vought CEO, he had expected the man to be holding something more substantial than just his work with Sam Lane. Sure the work was technically off of the books of both the US government and Vought, and Clark was certain that Sam Lane's whole organisation was illegal but in truth, Clark didn't care. He was using the General as much as the General was using him, Clark didn't work for Sam Lane, the two were just using each other to try and clean up the mess Homelander had made by releasing V into the world.

"Is this your attempt at managing me?"

"I would never dream of managing you, Mr. Kent. As I said, you already have a fine sense of right and wrong." Stan just maintained his direct stare into the other man's, he was one of the few people Clark couldn't read. " It reflects well on the family you came from, which puts you right where you need to be at the moment, what with a public and nation so recently fearful of foreign-empowered aliens crossing their borders."

For the first time in years, Clark froze, his mind stopping as the words hit him like a cold blast of arctic air. Only two other people on the planet had known about this particular secret. He had recently buried the first, while the only other person would die before she told anyone. Staring at the corporate avatar, there was one last desperate wish that he was reading too deep into the man's words, but as he looked into the unblinking eyes he knew he wasn't. Stan Edgar knew, he didn't know how, but he knew.

"I'm not going to stop," Clark stated bluntly he knew what the truth would likely cause panic, terror and public backlash against him, but he would sooner die than let fear control him.

"Mr. Kent, you misunderstand me. I am not telling you to stop, in fact, I am very pleased with everything you've done. It's done wonders for our stock price, and the shareholders have never been happier." Stan Edgar leaned back in his chair with a smile fit for a commercial or a talkshow interview. "This conversation is merely demonstrating that, whilst your offer is appreciated, we here at Vought have things well in hand. Just continue your work and if we need a more direct approach with Homelander we will let you know."

The two stared at each other for a few moments, neither man blinking or showing signs they would back down. Clark knew what was happening, he was being reminded that he was not the company's sole asset and could not dictate terms. The silence lasted for several more minutes until Clark finally stood up and made his way to the door, pausing just before he opened the door to leave. He took a deep breath.

"When this all comes crashing down, and it will, Vought will shoulder the blame for what follows.."

Clark paused again, and he realised that Mr. Edgar, like Homelander, was headed for a disaster born of his own hubris. .

"Don't worry, despite all this. I'll still save you. Because that's my job."

(Clark's Room - 99 Floor - Seven Tower)

Clark released a deep breath as he entered the room that Vought had given him since he officially joined the Seven. The room used to be Translucent's, but no trace of the dead superhero remained. He had to hand it to Vought, their cleanup crews were second to none. About a week ago the room had been fully furnished with a career's worth of awards, commendations, and keepsakes.

Now, one would think it was rebuilt a week ago, so completely bare was the two-story luxury apartment. There were no photos, decorations, statues or awards plastered on the walls and what furniture was present was very minimal. Apart from the bed upstairs, the only other furniture present in the entire apartment was a single plain white desk and chair with a laptop resting on it.

The Vought marketing team when he had first 'moved in' had spent days trying to convince him of different themes and aesthetics for his room. However, he had shot them all down, not because he was particularly interested in a spartan style of living but because he didn't want this place at all to feel like home. The tower was the Seven's world; literally and metaphorically, it was a place where superheroes stood above the little people who got put in harm's way by their actions. .

As he moved over to the desk he had set up, his eyes quickly scanned the room again, searching for signs that the security team had been present again. He released a deep sigh as he saw the 11… no, 12 new listening devices that Vought had placed since he had been gone. He spent a few moments going through the room at superspeed, removing the devices from where they had been hidden, making sure to break them completely before he stopped moving.

"Greetings Master Kal, I hope you have had a pleasant day." The friendly robotic voice greeted him as he sat down in front of the laptop that sprang to life as it sensed his presence.

"Not really, Kelex. I need another analysis of the data from Afghanistan and Syria, focusing on potential buyers and/or likely targets for use" Clark sighed as he sat in the only chair in his apartment.

"Of course sir. I have also finished the variations of the prime simulation you wanted me to run. Would you like the results?"

"Yes, please." Clark edged forward in his seat hoping for some good news from the day he was having.

"All outcomes are the same or significantly worse from the prime result. Scenario Z-A-877661 provided the worst result, total time was 11 months 3 days and 9 hours, with 238% more casualties. Scenario ZZ-ZA-5899441 provided the best result: prime outcome delayed by 4 years, 18 days, and 22 hours with 2% fewer casualties."

"Okay, okay. Just perfect" Clark released a deep tired sigh as the data ran before his eyes, forcing him to run a hand through his hair and rub his eyes as instantly felt tired again. "Try scenario variations of the program zeta-epsilon-32398 through to zeta-zeta-99998. Run, submit results and then re-run for analysis."

"Of course sir, I will let you know when the simulations are complete. Also, Miss January has returned sir."

Clark lifted his head and peered through the adjacent walls he had to look through Maeve's apartment to see Annie. Luckily the Queen of the Otherworld was not present, the last time he had looked through the wall what he had seen had been disturbing and was not something he wanted to view again. He quickly saw that Annie had indeed returned, and had clearly gone to see Hughie again given her baggy clothes, large hoodie and sunglasses.

He quickly moved out of his apartment ignoring Ashely's attempt to try and speak to him about doing some commercials for Vought's new Supes in The Military initiative. The red-haired former assistant had been promoted and was now basically number three in the company working directly for his Aunt Mary who had taken over since Madelyn Stillwell had died.

Ashely said something else about a new team member or something along those lines but Clark just ignored her, focusing on moving to Annie's room. He knocked on the elegant heavily metal door that led to his friend's room. He could have just walked in, truth be told, as all members of the Seven had access to each other's rooms, something that he wasn't very keen on and was asking his Aunt to look into getting changed. He didn't have to wait long before Annie appeared at the door, she was a little out of breath but smiling as she saw her friend.

"Clark, come in." Annie stepped to the side gesturing for him to enter, which he gladly did. His eyes immediately went to the sofa where one of the cushions was just out of place, causing him to sigh.

As he walked fully in he could see that the same team that had tried to lobby him to accept their advice and tailor his apartment to a certain style had clearly won their battle with Annie. The room was barely his friend, her favourite colours of gold and cream white were present and there were a few pieces of art that fitted with his friend's taste. However, most of the room was simply expensive art and extravagance for the sake of extravagance, no Annie at all.

"Like what you've done with the place," Clark teased gesturing to the larger than life poster of Annie as Starlight plastered on one of the walls.

"Oh god, please ignore that. I've requested like fifty times for them to take it down." Annie groaned as she looked at the poster herself, feeling the same uncomfortable she always got now when she saw Starlight plastered on anything.

"I'll talk to my Aunt, see if she can't do something about it," Clark offered, his gaze still fixed on the poster, not really looking at it.

"Hey is everything alright?" Annie asked, noticing her had gone pensive on her, something he was doing more of lately.

Clark didn't answer her immediately, his eyes just stayed fixed on the poster, before he released a deep breath and looked at one of his oldest friends. "You need to stop."

"Stop what?" Annie asked, with a forced chuckle suddenly shifting as she felt uncomfortable.

Clark released a frustrated sigh, his eyes raked over the room quickly, his eyes piercing through stone, metal and plastic, making sure Annie's room was clear of bugs before he talked more. Thankfully there were none; it appeared that Vought was focusing its attention on him over his friend. Seeing the room was clear he strode over to the couch and shoved the slightly misaligned cushion away, allowing him to pick up the dossier that was there.

"THIS, you need to stop this." Clark gestured with the file to emphasise his point, his voice taking a hard edge. "You need to stop meeting Hughie, in parks or on the subway. He also needs to stop. I am hand-"

"NO!" Annie's blunt statement cut him off, causing him to look at his friend who was standing defiant in front of him.

"Annie, you don't underst-" Clark moved forward, his voice softening for Annie to loudly cut him off again.

"For fuck sake Clark! YES I DO. I am not some damsel that needs saving, I understand what the fuck is happening I'm not that little girl that needs saving anymore, I can look after myself." It was Annie's turn to sigh, as she looked away from her friend feeling the weight on her shoulders before turning back and looking him in the eye. "I don't need you to save me, I know what I'm doing."

"Annie, I don't see you like that, I swear. But this is incredibly dangerous, people are going to get hurt and if Vought finds out about this, I might not be able to protect you." Clark moved forward trying to show he was just concerned for his friend but Annie just moved back away from him

"People are already getting hurt Clark, I was in LA, same as you. I know what these monsters are up to and like I just said I can look after myself." Annie held up her hand, causing Clark to stop, a look of determination he had never seen before on her. "We have a plan, it's going to hurt, maybe even take down Vought. You just….just stay out of it. Okay?"

"Annie, please just stop and think about this. People will be put in danger, just let me handle thi-" Clark quickly moved forward this time Annie didn't move away from him, his eyes filled with worry for his friend.

"JESUS CHRIST Clark! YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS, OKAY!" Annie exploded moving forward and ripping the dossier out of Clark's hand before he could react.

"Annie what are you saying?" Clark looked shocked, he knew Annie was struggling with everything that had been going on but this was something else.

"You can't do what needs to be done okay! Is that what you want to hear?" Annie glared at her friend before releasing a deep breath and calming herself back down. "Clark I love you like family, you're my best friend, and I truly believe you're going to save the world. But this…..this isn't something you can do. Vought and the others they are not playing fair and…."

"And?" Clark pressed, his heart sinking as he knew where Annie was going with this.

"...And you can't do what needs to be done. Your the best man I know Clark, but we don't need a white knight to slay the dragon." Annie winced slightly at her harsh words but kept her resolve as she pushed on "We need someone to just get Vought out of the way, so you can save the world and that is what me and Hughie are doing. Yes it's a little murky but I know what I'm doing, just stay out of it okay?"

Clark opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself as he felt the phone on his belt start to vibrate and let out a small tone that sounded almost like an alarm. Any other tone he would have ignored but the alarm tone had been set up so he knew the moment one particular person was calling. Annie's eyes widened in confusion as Clark suddenly snatched a phone off of his belt and turned around so she couldn't see him.

Clark's eyes read the very short message that was present: He's back, please help?

"I've got to go, we will talk about this later."

Clark didn't wait for Annie to respond instead striding to the doors that lead to her balcony and throwing them open. Annie had to raise a hand to her face as a blast of cold air struck her as Clark suddenly vanished into the air, taking off so fast that he had cracked the floor and window. Annie just stared at the cracks never in all her years had she known Clark to be so careless with his takeoffs.

What in the world could make him that worried?

(Gold Galore Comic Book Store - Clarkson Avenue Haitian Kings Drug Den - Late 27th January 2020)

Hughie was trying to keep the contents of his stomach down, as he frantically scrubbed the last remnants of Susan Raynor from his hair. The memory of the incident still burned in his brain, and he guessed it would likely stay there forever. They had gone to see her to pass along the information about the super-terrorist Frenchie's contacts had unwittingly smuggled into the country. Something that MM and him were not happy about, and there was something else Frenchie was protesting that he didn't know about. In truth, the Boys were running mostly blind since Butcher had disappeared off the face of the Earth and Lois had gone back to her cover as a reporter. Hughie hadn't spoken to the Boys' original female member in months and only knew she was still alive from news reports he heard her giving and the fact MM spoke to her occasionally when she checked in to make sure they weren't dead.

As a result Raynor had been reluctant to meet, especially with the main fact they were still among the most wanted men in America, but MM had managed to swing the meeting. Everything had been going well, Raynor was even looking into getting MM a chance to see his family and possibly helping them get out of the country. She had even started talking about how their smuggled supe was the last piece of a puzzle she had been working on and how everything was connected.

Then her head had fucking exploded!

The thought made Hughie wrench forward again but just managed to keep the contents of his stomach inside his body. He wasn't sure if it was simple practice by this point given all the awful things he had seen or that he just had nothing left in his body after having already thrown up a few times in the shower he had just left.

"Fuckin' excellent Hughie. Sure am glad you got us into this shit." MM stated loudly as he walked over to Hughie rubbing his hands vigorously with sanitizer.

"She had a husband. Right? And a kid?" Hughie asked, ignoring MM's comment as he manoeuvred himself to lean on the sink and look at his friends, the weight of what he had pushed them into crashing down on him.

"Two…kids." Frenchie answered, knowing that the truth was what his friend needed.

"And I got her killed." Hughie felt his stomach churn again, just when he thought he was getting used to all of this, something new like this rammed itself down his throat.

"You didn't get her killed." MM stated bluntly as he finished cleaning his hands with a towel, his words truthful but in no way meant to spare Hughie's feelings or make him feel better. "That wasn't meant for us.

"How do you know?" Hughie glanced upward.

"Because if it had been, all of our melons would be splattered on the paving stones. Nah, someone was watching her closely. The moment she said shit she wasn't supposed to…." MM finished mimicking his head exploding to emphasise his point.

"Somebody from Vought?" Hughie asked, earning a shrug from MM who thought the answer was obvious enough to support itself without him saying it. "So you're saying that Vought maybe just assassinated the deputy director of the CIA?"

"And now we are in the middle of that too. Happy now, motherfucker?" MM leaned in shaking his head before scoffing and moving off not wanting to vent on the kid

As MM moved off Hughie felt the burner phone in his pocket vibrate causing him to scramble and grab it.

"Hello?" Hughie answered slowly.

"It's me." Annie's voice brought a rush of calmness. "Before you freak out. I'm on a burner phone. It's fine."

"Yeah but somebody could be listening." Hughie moved away from MM and Frenchie heading into one of the unoccupied areas of the drug den where bricks of cocaine were being stacked like firewood.

"Hughie, we did it. We fucking did it." Annie's voice sounded extremely pleased as she whispered into the phone. "Clark tried to stop me but that doesn't matter. I got to Gecko, he's getting me the V in like a day or two. So what do you think? The New York Times? I would have done the Daily Planet but there Vought now. Oh how about CNN or MSNBC, we could even try….."

"Okay, wait, wait. Just-just-just hold on a second." Hughie tried to slow Annie down. Damn, his head hurt..

"Come on, this is what we've been waiting for. Let's burn these fuckers down. Then Clark can stomp out the embers." Annie's enthusiasm was evident through the phone. After months of inaction, she was raring to go.

"Just…let's take a beat and figure out the best way to do this." Hughie took a deep breath trying to focus himself as the dangers of what he had just put Annie up to reared to life in his head, imagining her head exploding unwelcomingly pushing into his head.

"Why?" Annie asked in disbelief. This was everything they had worked for, they already knew what came next. "Hughie, what's happened?"

"Nothing. Vought's just dangerous is all." Hughie tried to sound calm and collected as he lied. "I mean, you got to be careful. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not gonna get….." Annie was about to lay into Hughie like she had Clark earlier, that she could take care of herself when she suddenly stopped. "If something happened, you know you can trust me right? We're in this together."

"No, I do trust you. I-I…." Hughie tried to remember what Lois had told him about lying, that the key was staying calm and telling it to yourself as much as the other person. "I just want to take our time and do it right."

"Hughie, I know when you're not telling me the truth. I kind of lived with it every single day." Annie's voice caused Hughie to freeze as he listened to her pour her trust and honesty down the line. "Don't lie to me. Not again."

"...I'm not. Swear to god." Hughie felt his stomach lurch, and even he almost believed it.

Annie bit her lip. Half of her believed him, and the other half screamed at her that she knew he wasn't being honest. "...Hughie I-I….Whatever, I've gotta go."

Hughie lowered the phone as he listened to the silence of the dead line, then dropped it back into his pocket. He was hating himself, for the lie but the rational part of his brain was already working overtime to justify it. However, before he could determine which side was going to win out this time, the whole basement exploded into action as Terry, the doorman from the cage upstairs, came tumbling down the stairs.

Suddenly about 7 heavily armed men not including Frenchie and MM rushed to the stairs hosting a range of handguns and assault rifles as the sounds of heavy footsteps sounded out. Hughie had to stop himself from cursing out loud. There, wearing a very tacky tracksuit, was none other than Billy Butcher grinning ear to ear.

"All right, easy does it lads. Eeeeeasy does it." Billy gestured to the gangsters as easily as if he was waving down a taxi in London. "As I tried to tell this cunt. I'm with that lot over there."

Frenchie gave Butcher a playful salute before gesturing to the other men to lower their weapons, which they did albeit very reluctantly and slowly.

"What the fuck you wearing?" MM asked leaning on a pillar gesturing to the striped jacket and pants Butcher was wearing.

"That is a fuckin excellent question." Butcher replied, stepping on Terry to get over to his team and causing the already injured doorman to cry out in pain.

"You called him?" Hughie looked over to Frenchie in disbelief feeling a little stung by the betrayal.

"I'm sorry, petit Hughie. This is not a game now. We need a real captain." Frenchie responded, looking only a little sorry but without a hint of remorse.

"Frenchie's right. This is fucking mess son. We got a Supe Terrorist, Rayner's blown her noggin, and we're the most wanted cunts in the country" Butcher moved over to stand in front of Hughie, listening off the situation before smiling at Hughie and placing a large hand on the thin man's shoulder. "But don't you worry. Daddy's home."

Hughie felt the blood drain from his face. However before his brain could protest anything another voice caused the group to turn their attention back to the staircase.

"Oh great, and I suppose that makes me Mommy." Hughie's eyes widened as Lois' sardonic voice sounded down the stairs. "Honestly, can't leave you boys alone for a minute without someone dying a violent death."

Hughie moved past Butcher who moved to the side letting the younger man ago. As Hughie passed Butcher his eyes narrowed, Butcher had an odd look on his face now it was like a cross between a scowl and a grin. Hughie moved to greet Lois as did MM, Frenchie and Kimiko, however as she came into view all of them stopped and did a double-take. There, on her lower torso, was a small but very noticeable feature.

"Lois…" MM started trailing off his eyes fixated on the bump

"...you're…." Frenchie continued before trailing off his eyes fixed on her belly

" …..pregnant?" Hughie finished his eyes darting from her stomach and looking at the woman's unamused face.

"Really? I hadn't fucking noticed."

Lois snapped irritably as she shifted placing her hands on her back as she tried to crack her back and shifting on her feet disliking the extra weight she was straining to carry. As she stretched her stomach suddenly glowed red as two eyes shone from within before they disappeared. All of the Boys bar Butcher took a big step back.

"What? No one going to offer me a seat?"