Chapter 14: The Take-Off

The warehouse doors groaned as Marcus and Butcher stepped outside into the cool night air. The sprawling industrial area around them was desolate, bathed in shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of a helicopter approaching from the horizon, its lights cutting through the darkness.

Butcher's face was a mask of barely contained emotion, a mix of anger, disbelief, and a glimmer of hope he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years. He cast a sidelong glance at Marcus, who stood beside him with an air of calm authority, his Superman emblem catching the faint glow of the moonlight.

"That your ride?" Butcher asked, his voice rough and guarded.

"It is," Marcus replied, his tone steady. "We'll be taking it to where your wife is. The flight won't take long."

Butcher's eyes narrowed, suspicion still lingering in his gaze. "And you're just going to hand her over, are you? No strings attached? What's the catch?"

"There's no catch," Marcus said evenly, turning to face Butcher directly. "I'm not here to manipulate you, Butcher. I'm offering my help because I know what Vought has done, and I know how much this means to you. I'm not your enemy."

Butcher stared at Marcus, trying to read the man behind the emblem. But Superman—Marcus—was an enigma, someone who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders yet remained unfazed. It was a demeanor that unsettled Butcher, making it difficult to gauge his true intentions.

"People like you always have an agenda," Butcher muttered, though his voice lacked its usual venom. "I don't trust you, and I don't trust that this is just about helping me. You've got your reasons, and I'll figure them out sooner or later."

"Maybe you will," Marcus acknowledged. "But right now, the only thing that matters is getting your wife back. We'll deal with everything else afterward."

The helicopter's roar grew louder as it descended, its powerful blades whipping up dust and debris from the ground. The sleek black chopper bore no markings, a nondescript vessel that could have belonged to any number of private entities. But Marcus knew it well—it was one of his, a tool he kept on hand for situations like this.

The side door slid open as the helicopter touched down, and Marcus gestured for Butcher to climb aboard. For a moment, Butcher hesitated, his mind racing with doubts and fears. But the thought of his wife—Becca—waiting for him, alive after all these years, was too powerful to ignore.

"Frenchie! Hughie!" Butcher's shout carried over the din of the helicopter. In the distance, the two men emerged from one of the smaller warehouses, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern.

"What the hell's going on, Butcher?" Hughie called out, his voice strained as he tried to be heard over the noise.

Butcher turned to them, his face set in a grim line. "I'll be back. Just stay put and keep an eye on things here."

"But—" Hughie began, but Butcher cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"Stay put, Hughie. I've got this."

Frenchie and Hughie exchanged worried glances but nodded, stepping back as Butcher turned and climbed into the helicopter. Marcus followed, sliding the door shut behind him as the chopper lifted off the ground, the city below quickly shrinking into a patchwork of lights and shadows.

Inside the helicopter, the tension was palpable. Butcher stared out the window, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. Marcus sat across from him, his expression unreadable as he watched Butcher wrestle with his emotions.

"Where is she?" Butcher finally asked, his voice low and strained. "Where have they been keeping her?"

"In a Vought facility, off the grid," Marcus answered calmly. "They've been using her as leverage, keeping her isolated to ensure your compliance—or at least to prevent you from going too far."

Butcher's fists clenched at his sides, a surge of anger rising within him. "Those bastards," he growled, his voice shaking with rage. "They've kept her locked up all this time, and you knew? You knew, and you didn't do anything?"

"I didn't know until recently," Marcus said, his voice firm but not unkind. "As soon as I found out, I started working on a plan to get her out. That's why I came to you tonight—I need your help to make sure this is done right."

Butcher's eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring once more. "You could have done this on your own, couldn't you? With all your powers, you could have flown in there and ripped the place apart. So why didn't you?"

"Because taking you along will make it easier and you know me from the news, I don't support violence ," Marcus replied, his tone serious. "I had to be smart about this, Butcher. If I go in guns blazing, I could lose Becca. And that's where you come in."

Butcher scoffed, though there was a grudging respect in his eyes. "You really think I'm going to follow your lead? You think I'm going to play nice and let you call the shots?"

"I think you want your wife back," Marcus said quietly. "And I think you'll do whatever it takes to make that happen, even if it means working with someone like me."

Butcher's jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. The helicopter hummed steadily as it cut through the night sky, the cityscape far below giving way to rolling hills and dense forests.

"Where's this place?" Butcher asked, his voice softer now, tinged with a desperation he could no longer hide.

"It's in the middle of nowhere," Marcus replied. "Vought built it to be off the radar, a place where they could keep their… secrets. But I've got the coordinates, and we'll be there soon."

Butcher nodded, his eyes distant as he absorbed this information. "And you're sure she's there? You're sure this isn't just another one of their tricks?"

"I'm sure," Marcus said, his voice filled with a quiet certainty that seemed to calm Butcher, if only a little. "I've seen the facility. I've seen her."

Butcher's breath hitched, and he looked away, staring out the window at the passing landscape. "All these years," he muttered, more to himself than to Marcus. "I thought she was gone. I thought…"

He trailed off, his voice cracking as the weight of it all threatened to overwhelm him. For so long, Butcher had built his life around the idea of revenge, of destroying the supe who had taken everything from him. But now, the possibility of reuniting with Becca was within reach, and it was almost too much to bear.

"You'll see her soon," Marcus said gently. "And we'll make sure Vought pays for what they've done. We can't afford any mistakes."

Butcher looked at Marcus, his eyes filled with a raw mixture of hope and fear. "I don't trust you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But for her… I'll do what it takes. Just don't screw me over, Superman."

"I won't," Marcus promised, meeting Butcher's gaze with unwavering resolve. "We're in this together, Butcher. And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you and Becca walk out of there alive."

The helicopter continued its journey through the night, carrying its two passengers toward a future filled with uncertainty and danger. But for the first time in years, Butcher felt like he had a real chance—a chance to get his wife back, to make things right. And though he still couldn't fully trust the man across from him, he knew that, for now, they were bound by the same goal.

The stakes had never been higher, but Butcher was ready. And with Marcus at his side, he might just have the power to take down Vought once and for all.