RWD: 4.08 

4.08 

“We faced it and did not resist. The storm passed through us and around us. It's gone, but we remain.”

—PAUL ATRIEDES, DUNE

The silence lingered long after they had returned, a ghost haunting the cavernous space of the base. It was in the way they moved, the slight hesitation in their steps, the way Lisa’s eyes would flick toward Paul when she thought he wasn’t looking. Unease. Uncertainty. These were predictable variables, manageable. 

He gave them an hour. An hour to process, to whisper amongst themselves in Lisa’s newly walled-off workstation, to let the adrenaline leach out of their systems. He spent the time in his workshop, putting the finishing touches on the weapons he had been working on for the past week and a half, the repetitive, precise motions a familiar meditation. The low hum of the CNC machine was a comforting counterpoint to the disquiet he could sense brewing in the distant room.

Then, he cut the power to the machine, the sudden silence an intrusion. He wiped his hands on a rag, the scent of machine oil and ozone sharp in the air. It was time.

“Meeting,” Paul called out, his voice cutting through the unnatural silence of the soundproofed room. “Everyone. Now.”

Another beat of silence hung in the air before the scrape of chairs and the shuffle of muted footsteps broke it. One by one, they filed out toward the lobby, their expressions a blend of curiosity, apprehension and weary resignation. Paige, the most unbothered by whatever was discussed inside, led the way, pushing through the door without a glance back. Taylor followed, eyes lowered, shoulders tight with unspoken tension. Lisa’s gaze lingered on Paul, narrowed and calculating, scanning his face for any sign he’d slipped. Alec drifted in her wake, slouched and aloof, his pale hair tousled. Brian came next, arms crossed over his chest—guarded. Rachel brought up the rear, stoic, with Brutus pacing loyally at her side

"Sit," Paul said, gesturing to the chairs that had been arranged in a semicircle facing the screen. "We have work to discuss."

They found their place around the space as Paul picked up a remote, and the display flickered to life, showing a satellite image of Brockton Bay's industrial district. A specific warehouse complex near the old shipping yards was circled in red.

"Hookwolf," he said without preamble, "along with the last of the E88’s parahuman core—Crusader, Night, Fog—have been located."

Lisa straightened in her chair, her attention sharpening. "Where?"

Paul clicked to the next image, a closer view of the circled complex. "Sector seven. These three buildings connected by covered walkways. The main structure—a former steel fabrication plant—serves as their primary hideout, the smaller buildings for storage and operations. My surveillance assets visually confirmed two of the four targets, along with approximately about three dozen unpowered associates."

A low murmur went through the group. Hookwolf had been the city’s bogeyman-in-hiding ever since Gallant’s death. Given the deceased Ward’s popularity and the crowd-funded nature of Kill Orders, the one for his head was one of the most lucrative in recent PRT history. It had been widely rumoured, even in professional circles, that the villain fled to Europe in a bid to evade the droves of bounty hunters looking for him, but obviously that had been a lie.

"...How long have you known?" Brian asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"About a week," Paul replied, his voice flat much to Brian’s visible annoyance. Without pause, Paul advanced to the next slide—floor plans of several buildings, rendered in meticulous detail.

“In about two weeks, Kaiser, Purity, Alabaster, Cricket, Stormtiger, Fenja, and Menja are due for their final trials. Conveniently, there have been several unconfirmed reports of Fog scouting the detention centres where they’re being held—strong evidence that a breakout is being planned. The execution may be amateurish, but the intent is obvious: the remaining four intend to free their teammates before the trials begin. If they succeed, we lose the city’s best chance at a clean break.”

"So, what’s the plan?" Brian asked, folding his arms with a frown. “We catch them and hand them over to the cops?”

Paul shook his head. “Hookwolf is under a kill order. The bounty is considerable, but more importantly, eliminating him will generate significant public goodwill—a necessary commodity we’ll need in the coming weeks. The city wants him dead; we’ll make him dead. Eliminating a threat that the PRT failed to contain will strengthen our position and reinforce the perception of control.

The others are fair game, as I have every intention of killing them. Their removal aligns with my broader objectives: the dissolution of the Empire Eighty-Eight’s parahuman leadership. With Kaiser already in custody, this will complete the dismantling of their organisation.”

Paul advanced to the next slide—a roster of personnel, faces and names arranged in neat columns. "This extermination will be a multi-asset operation. My mercenaries will handle logistics, surveillance, and crowd control against unpowered combatants. They'll also provide overwatch with designated marksmen positioned to engage targets of opportunity. Aside from this, they will spearhead the initial assassination attempt via more conventional means. Only after that fails would you lot enter the equation."

Paul clicked again. The profiles of the Travellers appeared on the screen.

“As with the last operation, I have retained the services of a third-party cape unit for this mission. The Travellers. The specific capabilities of a few of their members are uniquely suited to the task at hand.” Paul outlined their roles, his voice a clinical monotone. "Genesis will be our primary asset against Hookwolf. Her constructs can match his mobility and durability; hence, she will be tasked with bogging him down in a war of attrition to create openings for the kil team.”

Another click. “Once he his pinned down, Sundancer would be tasked with eliminating him. Her ability to create a miniature sun provides the sustained, high-energy output with a higher probability of bypassing Hookwolf’s regeneration than the majority of the other alternatives available to us at the moment. However, she lacks mobility and is very fragile. To solve this, she will be paired with her teammate, Trickster. His powers will allow him to reposition Sundancer as needed, keeping her out of Hookwolf’s immediate reach while ensuring she can maintain pressure and ultimately kill him. A simple, effective combination.”

Paul turned his attention to Rachel, whose stony expression hadn’t changed since the meeting began. “Crusader’s phantoms would be a problem. They are intangible to inorganic matter, making them difficult to engage with conventional means. However, due to the limitations of the Manton Effect, they should be vulnerable to organic attacks. Rachel’s dogs should serve as ideal counters. As such, she will be tasked with hunting him down and eliminating him as quickly as possible.”

His gaze shifted to Taylor, who straightened slightly under the scrutiny. “Taylor’s role will be surveillance and coordination. Given the likelihood that her swarm would be ineffective against the combatants we’re expecting, she will be assigned to crowd control, real-time tracking of all targets, and harassing targets of opportunity as they appear. She will operate from a mobile command vehicle in the vicinity, alongside Lisa. Lisa, in turn, will be responsible for coordinating the operation. She will have access to all body cam feeds, SIGINT from our listening posts, and telemetry from Taylor’s swarm.”

Paul advanced to the next slide. “Paige and Brian will accompany the pair. For Paige, this is a learning opportunity. The expectation is that she observe and remain ready to act if called upon, but otherwise stay out of trouble. As for Brian—unfortunately, his power presents a liability in this engagement. Night’s ability strengthens when she is unseen. Obscuring the battlefield with darkness would grant her a significant tactical advantage. We can’t risk that. His role will be limited to extraction. If the PRT responds faster than anticipated, he will create concealment for our withdrawal." Paul clicked to the next slide—a timeline. "Which brings us to scheduling."

The screen showed a detailed chronology, starting at 0830 hours. "Tomorrow morning. We move in four waves—reconnaissance, positioning, assault, and extraction. Total operation time: forty-five minutes from first contact to final withdrawal."

"Tomorrow?" Lisa said, incredulous. “Greg, our new costumes aren’t ready. I thought Taylor was still making the spider silk for the body suits."

“That’s a non-issue,” Paul said, dismissive. “The ballistic protection is available for use, along with your helmets, comms, and medical supplies. Until the new bodysuits are ready, you will pair your old suits with these. In the end, those are the parts that matter most. Any other questions?”

Alec raised a hand.

“Yes?”

“You forgot about Night and Fog,” the teen drawled from his corner, idly cleaning his fingernails with a knife. “You saving the spooky ones for yourself?”

“Yes,” Paul said. “And you will assist.”

Alec finally looked up, scowling. “Bro.”

Paul didn’t respond. “Any final questions?” he asked, his gaze sweeping across the group one last time.

When no one answered, he gave a curt nod. “Alright then. You’re dismissed.”