Chapter 78: Chapter 78: Homelander (1) (Bonus Chapter)
The technician typed furiously. The software processed the infrared data, stripping away the armored silhouettes to reveal the distinct facial geometries beneath the helmets.
The software ran the facial recognition match.
The same five military IDs flashed onto the screen.
Sergeant Miller.
Corporal Banks.
Lieutenant Kovacs.
Private Davis.
Specialist Chen.
General Raddock’s men.
"It’s them," Graves breathed, wiping sweat from his upper lip. "They just crippled our entire clandestine R&D infrastructure in under an hour."
Stan Edgar stared at the faces of the five soldiers. The calm demeanor that had defined his entire career finally fractured. A surge of pure hatred boiled up from his chest.
"These military motherfuckers," Edgar hissed, the profanity sounding alien and jarring coming from his lips.
Graves looked at him in shock. He had never heard Edgar swear.
Edgar leaned over the console, his eyes blazing. "They are burning my company to the ground to build their own empire."
Edgar turned to Graves, his expression ruthless.
"We cannot tolerate this anymore. I want the tactical team deployed. I want them in the air in five minutes."
"Sir," Graves stammered. "A direct assault? On a United States military installation? General Raddock’s base is heavily fortified. If we attack them, it’s an act of war against the government."
"They have already declared war, Graves!" Edgar roared, slamming his fist onto the table. "If we do not wipe this ’Red Unit’ off the face of the earth and retrieve that data tonight, Vought will cease to exist. You will flatten Raddock’s base, you will execute those five soldiers and you will bring me his head in a box. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Mr. Edgar," Graves said quickly, reaching for his secure comms unit. "Initiating Strike Protocol Alpha. Teams moving to the helipads now."
"Burn them out," Edgar whispered, staring at the frozen thermal images of the five clones. "Burn them all out."
...
Ninety nine floors above, the air in Conference Room A was silent.
Homelander stood by the massive glass windows, looking out at the city. He was not looking at the skyline, however. His head was tilted slightly downward, his eyes unfocused.
He was listening.
His super hearing, capable of picking up the heartbeat of a mouse a mile away, was currently funneled straight down through the steel, concrete and soundproofing of the Vought Tower, directly into the subterranean Intelligence Room.
He filtered out the hum of the servers, the frantic typing of the analysts and the blaring of the emergency alarms. He isolated the frequency of Stan Edgar’s voice.
He heard it all.
Victoria Neuman... dead. Head crushed.
The Woods... burned.
General Raddock’s men... The Red Unit.
These military motherfuckers.
Homelander’s hands curled into tight fists. The leather of his gloves creaked loudly in the empty boardroom.
The letter was right.
The warning from his ’loyal fan,’ was entirely accurate. The military was building an army to replace him.
They had the stable Compound V. And they were systematically hunting down Vought’s assets.
And Edgar? Edgar had told him to wait, to smile for the cameras, to let the adults handle it.
Edgar had wanted him sidelined while these military mud crawlers built a team of Supes designed to make The Seven obsolete.
A low growl started in the back of Homelander’s throat.
"Replacing me," Homelander whispered to the glass. "You think you can replace me with some grunt in a uniform?"
He turned away from the window. The heat behind his eyes flared, turning his irises into glowing pools of ruby fire.
He wasn’t going to let Edgar’s human tactical team handle this. Human guards with sonic guns? It was an insult. This was a job for him. He needed to show Raddock, Edgar and the entire world what happened when you tried to usurp the true king.
He walked to the center of the table and pressed the heavy silver button on the intercom console.
"This is Homelander," he announced, his voice echoing through the private quarters of every member of The Seven in the tower. "All members of The Seven. Conference Room A. Right now. If you are not in this room in exactly two minutes, I will assume you have tendered your resignation."
He released the button and waited.
The doors flew open ninety seconds later.
The Deep was the first to arrive, practically tripping over his own feet in his haste.
His green and gold suit was slightly wrinkled and he looked wildly around the empty room before his eyes settled on Homelander. He offered a terrified smile.
"Homelander, hey, buddy. I was just... I was right down the hall. Always ready."
A-Train zipped into the room a second later, the gust of wind from his super speed sending loose papers flying off the table.
He vibrated with nervous energy, his eyes darting around. He was sweating, despite the cool air conditioning.
"I’m here, boss," A-Train said quickly, leaning against a chair. "What’s the emergency?"
Queen Maeve walked in next. She looked exhausted, carrying a half empty mug of coffee that smelled strongly of vodka.
She didn’t look at Homelander, simply dragging out a chair and slumping into it with a heavy sigh.
She looked at the empty chair where Black Noir usually sat, a dark shadow crossing her features, before she looked away.
Finally, Starlight hurried through the doors. She was wearing the revealing white bodysuit Vought had mandated.
She crossed her arms tightly over her exposed chest, looking highly uncomfortable and deeply afraid. She took the seat furthest from Homelander.
Homelander watched them. A junkie, a sycophant, a burned out alcoholic and a naive farm girl.
This was his team. This was what he had to work with. They were pathetic, but they were his.
"Sit down," Homelander commanded softly.
The Deep and A-Train scrambled to pull out their chairs and sit.
Homelander began to pace slowly behind his eagle carved throne. The only sound in the room was the heavy thud, thud, thud of his red boots on the carpet.
"We are under attack," Homelander began, his voice almost conversational, which only made it more terrifying. "Right now, as we speak, there is a highly lethal campaign being waged against Vought. Against us."
He stopped pacing and leaned his hands on the back of his chair, looking at each of them.
"I have just intercepted top secret intelligence from Stan Edgar’s private servers," Homelander lied flawlessly. "The United States Military, specifically a rogue faction led by General Raddock, has acquired the stabilized formula for Compound V."
A-Train stopped bouncing his leg. The Deep gasped.
"That’s right," Homelander smiled, a cruel stretching of his lips. "The mud crawlers in Washington have decided they don’t need us anymore. They are secretly breeding their own army of Supes. They call themselves the ’Red Unit.’ And they are very, very busy."
Homelander walked slowly down the side of the table, his cape dragging silently behind him.
"Tonight, they assassinated Congresswoman Victoria Neuman in her home. They burned down our research facilities in Maryland. They slaughtered dozens of young Supes studying at Godolkin University." He paused behind The Deep’s chair. "They are eliminating our assets, stealing our research and clearing the board. Because they want to replace us."
