Chapter 44: Actions Have Consequences

"So, how's the modifications?" Russo questioned the hovering Mark, a small team of designers jotting notes onto their pads nearby.

"Hmm, yeah, it's better than the last. Just has that... I don't know, more elastic feel to it; like it won't break when I stretch." Mark stated, doing a few more light exercises to test the outfit.

"Good to hear. That means comfort and accessibility are done. What about the colours? I quite like it, gives you a more commanding presence."

Mark inspected the black suit, a vague similarity to Batman, which irked him slightly, "It's... too army-like? And the pure black; it gives me a... ominous vibe? Doesn't really have a friendly feel. Plus, erm, it makes it kind of obvious it's armour. People might question why I need it."

"Well, my view is that it doesn't matter what the public thinks, only what the ones that can hurt you think. But, hmmm, obviously, it's your outfit, and you make sense. Suppose we could do it in another colour. Or a mixture." Russo spoke, gesturing for the group to record the slight changes to be done later, "Remember what I said. It can take one shot, nothing more, nothing less. You get hit once; you're risking the dice staying."

"Yeah, I know." Mark removed the suit, coming off relatively easy, considering it was made of Russophene. Weight had little bearing on Mark, thus, making the defence of the suit remarkably straightforward, creating body armour that no human could wear. Placing it on the floor, a group of buff men picked it up and transported it inside as Mark turned to the handsome inventor.

Russo smiled, warm and friendly, "Send us a rough draft of the colour or how you'd like it to look; we'll sort it for you. I must say before you go, our partnership is going fantastic. Our new releases revolving around you have increased our stocks by 32%. A remarkable improvement." He paused as he patted Mark's arm, "Come back next Saturday; we can change the colour within a few hours but there's some other stuff I'd like to test."

Mark nodded, "Thanks, Michael. I'll be off then; Victor said I've got a shit storm waiting for me... whatever that means."

"Ah, that. All I'll say is... I tried my best. Some people just cannot be grateful."

He frowned as he took flight, slightly confused and apprehensive about the coming news.

'I don't understand. What have I done? Did I fuck up in Haiti? Or was it Japan? No, it couldn't have been either. I... fuck it, I'll wait for them to explain.'

"HAP, make sure to remind me on the 13th, or I'll forget otherwise." Mark uttered, getting an immediate response from the female-sounding AI.

"Of course, Mark. Do not forget, you're going to dinner tomorrow and the 14th of January, this Sunday and next Sunday. Evan texted whilst you were with Russo, too."

"Right, thanks, HAP. I actually forgot about that. This disaster relief business is so time-consuming." He sighed before muttering, "Hopefully, they don't resent me."

WHOOSH!

Landing outside the large industrial loft – the home base of the team – Mark entered through the plain metal door.

He was immediately greeted by someone around his age, spiky blonde hair a standout feature but not his most defining; a knife scar running from just under his left nostril down the left of his mouth. Mark sighed, exasperated already.

"Mark... what's with the sigh? C'mon." The man uttered in mock offence.

"Ed, I cannot truly be fucked to talk to you about guns. That's furthered by the fact you're going to ask me to ask Russo for something. Ask yourself."

"Yeah, but Mark. You're his golden goose, the golden boy, the prize of Tayi. You ask for a prototype, you'll get it easily. Me? A mere PMC, well, I'll be told to fuck off."

Shaking his head at the Welshman's antics, "Ugh, I'll think about it. Surely Victor can help? Isn't that his job?"

Ed replied, amused, "Ha! His job? Vic's only good for planning missions and killing people. Asking for stuff... politely? That ain't happening."

"He'd kill you if he knew you used that nickname. Didn't he say only Eric could use it? Like a lover's nickname kinda thing."

"No, no." He waved his hand through the air, "We're tight, I... wait, I ain't gay. Well, you got me there. Fair play, Mark. You going to the 'war' room, then? Heard you're in a bit of trouble."

"I'm dreading to know what this is going to be, considering even you know about it. Hopefully, it's something simple."

They entered the computer room, an impromptu centre for discussing the group's future actions. Barak and Mack sat at the computers, the latter as silent as usual and the former gesturing a greeting their way as the two sat down on a couch.

Becky and Sasha sat on the opposite side, gossiping about something as they both gave a friendly smile towards Mark.

Turning around in his seat, Barak started talking, "The other two are currently occupied with something, so I'll be leading this instead of Victor." He sighed, "There's no easy way to put this, but we're going to have to go through court."

Becky's eyebrow rose, excitement appearing in her eyes, "Court, huh? What's he done? The Caribbean was a success, as was Japan. I don't recall anything that went wrong watching him."

Barak shook his head, "It's not from that. He's getting sued over a bunch of shit. The primary one is wrongful death due to Mark's negligence in Ireland and the... hospital. Ireland we could maybe argue against, but I think we're fucked in the latter case."

Mark's eyes widened, "Wait, what? Russo-... oh fuck, that's what he meant." He rubbed his forehead, "So, what're the consequences? A payout or something worse?"

He blew air out of his mouth in dismay, "Well, it'll be a payout, for sure. But the governments and international agencies will get involved. Then, you got public scrutiny and anger over the issue. It goes on and on. I'm not sure how it'll work, but they'll be looking for something equal to prison time."

Mark laughed in shock, "You're joking... prison time? Or something like it? What the fuck! It was an accident; I panicked. I had just lost everything! Haven't I just spent the last two fucking weeks saving people? And they do this shit?"

Becky sighed, "Calm down, Mark. We'll... think of something. If we're... really out of options, we can just, yanno... ignore the verdict."

Ed looked at her like a crazy person, "That's literal social suicide. If he doesn't face the punishment for his actions, he'll be seen as a criminal. I agree that we need to find a way out, but we can't just ignore the verdict."

Replying in annoyance, "Yeah, I fucking know that, idiot. That's why I said IF, IF, we're out of options. At that stage, we've already lost public opinion, never mind every nation's trust."

Interrupting the growing emotions, Barak inputted more news, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that's not all. You're facing another battle from the Irish government for property and environmental damages."

"That's not necessarily awful news." Becky spoke, "The Irish wouldn't screw a potential relationship with him completely. It'll be a test to see how far Britain and Tayi will go to protect him. Fighting that and the other two lawsuits will highlight his backer's commitment. But, if just Tayi help, we may find ourselves surrounded."

"Are we just going to ignore the stupidity of this situation?" Mark grumbled, his anger rising as he aggressively rubbed his fingers, "They're suing me for fighting a monster and that some random old people were too frail and died. Added to that, they're screwing me right after I just lost my entire fucking family, after I woke up scared and without any control. How was I supposed to know I was in a hospital and looked at a child's ward!?"

"Mark, calm down, you don't mean that." Sasha replied to him, concerned, "You're angry, we get that, but we need to stay level-headed. We can fight this. We have one of the smartest men in the world on our side, and everyone here has survived suicidal odds. This is a different type of suicidal, but we'll weather it as we have before."

Smiling at the woman sitting beside her, Becky continued, "Exactly. I can ask around. I know a lot of lawyers, so that will help. What we need now, Mark is for you not to get angry. You get caught on camera doing something stupid or controversial; it's going to hurt us."

Huffing slightly, his anger abating into frustration, "Yeah, I know. I just feel like the past two weeks have been useless." He shook his head, "This is probably how they feel. Losing their children and loved ones so randomly. We're not so different."

"Well, all I've given so far is bad news." The seated suited man said, his shades placed on the table, "So, how about some good news? If we view public opinion on social media, you're in a pretty good state. Half the youth are uncertain or neutral, and the other half protect you. But, if we go to the older generation, it seems they're a bit more sympathetic. A recent survey by the UK government said..." Pointing towards a bar chart, "73% of those, 60+, have a positive or more than neutral opinion. Even between 30-50, that's what? More than half think good of you."

Mack scooted towards Barak, whispering into his ear, "You know these will go down when the cases are out, publicly, and reported in the news internationally, right?"

Getting a stern look from Barak, Mack shook his head as he backed away to where he was.

"As I was saying, the UK opinion is relatively positive. Internationally, mainly in Europe, it's the same. Asia and SA don't have enough data. Africa, don't give a shit."

"Well, that's at least some nice news, I guess." Mark uttered before standing up, "Is that all? I need a break. I'm still pretty... frustrated. I can't be arsed."

"Yeah, that's fine; we're all done here for the important stuff. We'll see what we have come up with on Tuesday. Just enjoy the rest of the day, don't bother yourself with anything."

Leaving the room, Mark spent the rest of the day ordering food and lounging about, pondering the potential implications of what he was told earlier. Barak had told him not to, but how could he not? In his view, he'd been working his ass off, yet this is what he gets in return. It irked him immensely, knowing that he could do nothing as he would be dragged through court for things practically out of his control at the time.

Because of this, he lay in bed, scrolling social media on his phone. His accounts had ballooned in followers over the past month since his identity was revealed. Unfortunately, the new attention was more annoying than anything. Now, he couldn't like whatever he saw or the things he agreed with, purely because people would analyse everything that shows up on the account constantly.

"You have dinner booked with your friends at 2pm." HAP spoke, Mark grumbling slightly as his thoughts went off-course as he realised it was now Sunday.

"Finally, some normalcy." He responded, "I need a break from all this crap."

Putting his phone in his pocket, he walked downstairs from his remarkably average bedroom compared to the rest of his home. The morning was still dark, awaiting the winter sunrise at roughly eight am as Mark got himself something to eat. He didn't need it, but it kept the normality going as it slowly drifted out of his reach.

He spent the next few hours watching the TV, catching up on his favourite series, remarkably similar to his own situation. Recent experiences had surprisingly opened up his perspective on the show, despite still disagreeing with the main character's decisions. The show had turned out far more entertaining because of this, becoming engrossed in the latest episodes as time passed.

Checking his phone and seeing it was already half past nine, he went upstairs to get changed. His wardrobe had been revamped significantly since he left the facility. None of his old clothes had survived the explosion at his family home, causing him to buy an entire closet's worth. It was relatively easy, the money made from his business deals with Russo and the inheritance from his deceased relatives gave more than enough to get anything he wanted.

Dressed in a smart casual outfit, the white shirt fitting perfectly to his toned physique, he glanced at the mirror. Besides the worry about his eyes, likely going to unsettle his friends for a time and the growing need for a haircut, he thought he looked decent enough.

'I need to find a private barber...'

Patting himself down and checking he had picked up some shades, he exited the building, dead leaves covering parts of the ground and ice forming across the road and pavement. Taking off, he arrived back at the group's building, which he entered. Noticing a body lounging on the couch, he sat down as well.

"Hey, Sash." He said, making himself comfortable, "You're up early."

The French brunette rubbed her eyes sleepily, her expression groggy as she took a sip of coffee from the middle table, "You're one to talk, Mr I Don't Sleep. Sure ya not a vampire? Those eyes are kinda Dracula-esque."

Mark chuckled, "Not sure what films you've been watching, but I'm pretty certain Dracula doesn't have eyes like these."

"Dracula Returns, 2079. It's pretty similar; Brad Kensington played him, and those eyes; they remind me of yours. Heh, god he was fit. My dad burst out laughing when 13-year-old me said that. Good times."

"Sounds like it. Pretty old movie, though. Is your dad still around? Sounds like a nice guy, even got you watching old classics."

Her eyes flickered, "Nah, he... died a few weeks after I turned 15. Mum cheated and... left us... he drank himself to death. I still kinda blame him. For leaving me."

Mark's expression turned sheepish, "Sorry for asking. Your mum ever...?"

She humphed, "Did she fuck. My grandma looked after me, whilst she never even contacted me. Could be dead for all I care."

"My mum was similar. Got into alcohol and gambling although, losing a child to a miscarriage can mess some people up." He sighed, "Last I heard, I've got sisters now, doing well for themselves too."

"What a morbid conversation to be having in a morning. Have you thought about seeing her? I've seen ya going out to your family, and the girl ya were with's... yanno."

"Heh, I have. She was called Elise by the way, and I feel a sense of... peace when I visit them. Just nice to have some solitude sometimes. Maybe it's a way of coping; that they'll just magically come back if I keep talking to them. I don't know. I should probably visit Elise's parents, too. Apologise and... I don't know. I just feel bad to intrude on their grief."

"I think it's good to have a bit of peace at the moment. And, whilst I don't wanna say what ya should do, I think ya should. Your grief isn't any less than theirs. You aren't intruding." Sasha softly spoke, moving over to give him a hug, "Go see them at some point. It'll be good for you."

He smiled at her, "Thanks, Sash. I'll make sure I do." He took a moment to compose himself, "So, why are you awake? You normally don't get up till lunch if you can help it."

Sitting back down, she rolled her eyes, "Ugh, I was making a few calls." She smiled at him, "We'll get ya out of this mess. I promise."

"I was looking on Whisper last night. Seems a lot of people are finally finding out about the hospital. For all of Barak's promises of how people still view me positively... they don't. Heh, it doesn't feel real. I've never been hated or disliked by so many. Some seemed genuinely hostile to me."

"Fuck 'em, Mark. Celebrities deal with haters all the time. It doesn't matter what they think; they're nobodies." She sighed, "When my dad died, I got bullied in school pretty heavily. Teenagers are hateful, yanno. But, what I'm trying to say, do you know where they are now?" Mark had a questioning eyebrow, "They're either dead, poor or fucking nobodies. Rien. I'm a millionaire; I've toured the world and done and seen things they cannot imagine. That's why ya shouldn't care. The world is at your fingertips, they can't do anything to harm ya, and there will always be people who support ya."

"That... was quite passionate, Sash." She blushed slightly, "It was nice, though. I don't completely agree, but I appreciate the support."

Sasha laughed, "Sorry, I got too into it. Probably because I know ya as a person, albeit not for long, enough that I can tell ya not the man they're saying ya are." She stood and picked up her mug, "Fancy a coffee? Actually, does coffee even affect you? Have you tried?"

Mark chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, get me one. Unfortunately, it doesn't. At least, as far as I can tell, I don't get tired or need sleep, so..."

"Hmm, that must suck, Markey. No better feelin than waking up and having coffee."

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thanks, Sash."

Both spent the next few hours watching whatever was on TV, Ed eventually joining them and lounging about like a sloth. Reaching shortly after lunch, HAP reminded Mark one last time about the upcoming event with his friends.

"Well, I better get going. How do I look?" Mark questioned the two he'd been with, getting a shrug from Ed and Sasha, actually inputting something.

"Handsome. Very handsome, honestly. Clothes look decent, too."

Chuckling at her antics, he straightened out any creases in the clothes from sitting down before saying his goodbyes. Entering the outside, a very light amount of snow flowed from above and settled on the ground. He ensured, one last time, he had brought his shades with him before he left.

"HAP, how cold is it right now?" He asked the AI, muttering before she answered, "It's getting worse... I can't feel it."

"Watford's current temperature is -3 degrees Celsius. January is the coldest month of the year; it is predicted to continue to fall as the day goes on."

"You're joking. It's actually getting worse... fuck..."

Huffing out of his nose, he decided to ask Russo about it at a later date before putting dark sunglasses on as he rang a cab to pick him up. Getting inside and with the driver paid, he arrived at the modest restaurant twenty minutes later, spotting his childhood friend Evan and the posh boy, Rob, standing outside.

Walking over with a slight smile, "Hey guys. Erm, been a while."

Evan dimly smiled at him, his shaggy hair longer than it was a month ago, and walked towards him, abruptly bro hugging him, "It's been too long, my dude. I'm... sorry for your loss, man." He paused as he shook his head, annoyed, "I'm doing it. Sorry, today's supposed to be a happy day. You deserve it, especially with the news right now. Ah, I've done it again."

Rob shook his head at Evan, "It's nice to see you, Mark. Luckily, I organised this, so shit won't go downhill like if he'd done it."

Backing away from Mark, Evan frowned at the shades covering his friend's eyes, "What's with those? Ohhh, no, forget I asked. You're a celebrity now, and those eyes are... very Halloween."

"Thanks, and fuck you, Evan. Fucking Halloween? Ugh, I feel like I'm a spy going incognito." They chuckled.

"Shall we go in, then?" Rob questioned as he patted Mark's shoulder, "You're pretty ugly, so no one is going to recognise you, even without shades."

Mark laughed, "How I haven't missed this. Go on, then. Where are the others? Inside?"

"God, no. We're all like 20 minutes early, they're not here yet. But, you snooze, you lose, they gotta find us now." Rob joked as they walked inside, Mark enjoying the regular insults and vibe. It was nice to be normal, if only for a day, and he'd enjoy it as much as he could.

A/N - 'Rien' means 'nothing' in French. Sasha is French, hence some french words may creep in.