He didn’t show much emotion at that. “It doesn’t pay to dwell too deeply on that, but I’ll tell you the U.S. government has this new piece of property out in the desert in Arizona that we just seized from the previous owner. It’s an underground prison. We had to do a bit of restaffing since Omega’s assault on the place, but it’s fully operational once more and there’s plenty of room for another guest to stay there.” He raised an eyebrow. “If need be.”
I thought about it. “Someone told me once that you had your own prison.”
He shook his head. “Never needed one. We handed over our captives to the Directorate.”
I pictured Zack in my mind. “Why would someone lie about that?”
“They probably thought it was true,” Foreman said. “If we wanted people to know we were in bed with the Directorate, we wouldn’t have worked so hard to hide all the links.” He was watching me carefully. “You’re not asking the question.”
I shrugged. “What question?”
“The obvious one,” Foreman said. “The one that new senators and congressmen ask within minutes of being briefed on the existence of metahumans and our history policing them.” Foreman leaned over to look me in the eyes, just a foot from my face. “You haven’t asked why we didn’t get back in that business after the Agency was destroyed.”
I shrugged again. “I already know the answer.” I waited for a reaction from him, but I got none. Recalling what I’d read in the file on the way over here, I kept going. “You don’t have a direct meta policing Agency because Sovereign made it clear to you that if the United States Government ever opened one again, he’d scorch it to the ground along with whatever city it was standing in.”
Foreman gave me a sad smile. “He did indeed. Everyone says he has the juice to carry through with that threat, too. But you have to admit, in light of everything that’s going on right now, with his Boys and Girls Club so close to wiping out the rest of the meta species ... that just doesn’t seem to matter all that much anymore.”
Chapter 5
Foreman unlocked my hands and led me out of the confinement room. I was massaging my wrists the whole time but was so glad to be standing and walking that I ignored the feeling of pins and needles running down my legs which had partially fallen asleep from sitting in the same position for so long. I didn’t much care for the feeling, but it passed quickly enough. Foreman led me into a dimly lit concrete hall. He beckoned me to follow him and I did, stopping outside the next door.
“What?” I was so fatigued I hadn’t even asked him where we were going before we left the room. Not that I really needed a destination; I was sick enough of the confinement room that he could have told me he was leading me off to dump my body in a nearby swamp and I’d likely have gone along willingly.
“Go in,” Foreman said, scanning a key card from his pocket against the panel next to the door.
I waited for him to open it, but I’m sure a quizzical expression crossed my features. “And do what?”
“The first part of your job for us,” Foreman said, straitlaced and quiet now.
I tried to think it out, but was just too tired. “Unless Sovereign is standing behind that door and you want me to beat him to death, I’m going to need more direction.”
“You’ll see,” Foreman said, and there was a squeal of the door handle as he started to open it. “You’re not just the tip of the spear for us, not just here to get in fights and get your knuckles bloody. We need more from you than that.”
I let out an exhausted sigh. “You’ve got me over a barrel here, and I’m friggin’ exhausted, so if you could just please spit out what you want me to do and be specific, that’d be great.”
“You’ll need a team,” Foreman said, annoying the hell out of me with his wise man routine. He opened the door the rest of the way and then indicated I should enter. “Start here. I’ll wait outside. Knock on the door when you’re done.”
I wanted to glare at him but I didn’t have the energy, so I just stepped into the room. It was a cell not unlike the one I’d just been in. There was a man sitting in middle of it, though he was on the floor, his chair already a shattered mess, broken into pieces just underneath the one-way window. I recognized him instantly by his curly blond locks and his ruddy complexion, and he jolted upright at the sight of me, rising to his feet.
“I see you went with the rebellious option,” I said to Scott Byerly as Foreman closed the door behind me, locking me in with my friend in the otherwise empty cell.