Choices: A Detour and an Alliance
Title: A Detour and an Alliance
Rating: R. Slightly graphic scenes of death.
Word Count: 2,873
Pairing: Mylar though they're having separate adventures and now it's Sylar's turn.
Characters: Sylar, Elle Bishop, brief cameos by Bob Bishop, a new villain from the promos, and an old friend.
Spoiilers: Ish. Not so much anymore since I'm at the point where it's just heavy speculation inspired writing.
Summary: Sylar gets sent on a quick ability-grab by Angela and then gets in the middle of some mayhem going down back in Hartsdale.
A/N: Not only thanking the usuals. I'm thanking Everyone who has supported the fic, all of my friends for encouraging me to continue. You guys are the greatest. XD
Next Time: Sylar goes full-tilt Company and it leads him closer and closer to the familiar doorstep of a geneticist in Brooklyn.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, NBC/Tim Kring do though. But I pull them off the shelf every so often to play.
Previous Chapters:
1. One Missed Call
2. Unfinished Business
3. A Loss of Control
4. For What's To Come
5. The Privilege of Power
6. Discovery
It was interesting how much his new destiny looked and tasted like his old. Bitter, badly-brewed coffee that Sylar was drinking out of habit and a bit of a caffiene addiction more than any actual enjoyment of the beverage. He set the mug down and glanced up at his intended mark, a file given to him directly by his...well his mother. If he were a man who drank he'd need something a great deal stronger than black coffee to help deal with that little bombshell. True he had so many questions about it but...he didn't want her to know how thrown off he felt by the situation. Sylar wanted to maintain control at all costs.
So he sat in the non-descript diner in New Jersey and waited to make his move. In a way, the whole thing made him nostalgic for the beginning days of this journey for power. Days spent under a black baseball cap pulled low, moving in and out of the shadows of people's lives...going from a passive observer to a very active participant. But back then there was always a carefully maintained secrecy to it all. Careful never to touch things personally for the sake of fingerprints, to have any witnesses who could ever trace him back to the scenes of his crimes. But now Sylar positively luxiuriated in his newfound freedom. If he wanted? He could off the man right here in front of everyone and the only people who ever would have captured him would let him. Pays to have family in high places, apparently.
He finished draining the seafoam green mug and set it back down, looking over again at the man...he was such a slow eater. Sylar adjusted the black vest he wore over a button-up shirt, both paired with trousers and black dress shoes. It was certainly different than how he'd likely have dressed on his own, they were the clothes waiting for him when he left his cell, but he actually rather liked the overall image they projected. He reached up and absently twisted and spiked a strand of hair as he got lost in his own thoughts for a moment, the auburn-haired waitress sauntered up and smiled at the tall man. She lifted the pot of coffee in front of his line of sight to get his attention.
"Freshen up your cup?"
Sylar snapped out of it, looking from the dark liquid sloshing around the container up the arm that held it. He smiled a little and offered his empty mug over to her. Eyes gazing at the nametag on her shirt before he replied.
"That would be wonderful, Meaghan, thank you."
She couldn't help a smile at the man who was far more handsome than a typical day's clientale in the diner. After she poured his drink she did the usual waitress shtick of letting him know that if he needed anything to let her know. Sylar nodded politely and sipped his coffee as she walked away. Then he saw it, Robert Keep was on the move. Out of his booth and walking quickly to the men's restroom. Sylar waited a few moments then took another long sip of his coffee before setting it down on the table. He rose from the booth and moved across the room, over to the restrooms. Walking in through the swinging door that he made sure to telekinetically lock when he could hear only his and the man's heartbeats in the room. He strolled over to the rather low-vaulted urinal and made it look like he was relieving himself while the man washed his hands at the sink. After he flushed, Sylar turned around and stared at the man's reflection through the mirror. When he read about such an incredible ability, he knew it had to be his.
"Excuse me...are you Robert Keep?"
The man at the sink nervously shot his face up and looked toward the dark-haired stranger who knew his name. Nervously he confirmed his identity. Sylar smiled and started in on his carefully-planned approach. Letting the man know he knew who he was, knew what he did, and that he wasn't alone in being so...unique. All of it part of throwing Robert Keep's guard down and getting him to do something frantic like try and escape. And when he did do just that, and Sylar flung him back against the wall, he was scared but not as scared as the others. When Sylar held the man's throat and focused, dragging his finger along that invisible line over Robert's forehead-- he found that this kill would be a little more tricky than others had been.
"...It really is impenetrable."
"You can't hurt me..."
Sylar quirked a brow then chuckled, dismissively. He assured Robert that he was not at all going to be kept from accomplishing what he came in to do. He crooked his fingers while keeping a hold of the man's throat. Reaching his hand forward, Sylar widened the man's mouth with aid of telekinesis. The invisible vice-like grip forced the man's jaw wide open, bending it a little at the hinges.
When Gabriel Gray was a boy he had a complete fascination with the practices of ancient civilizations. One of those being that of the ancient Egyptians and their process of mummification. He would read about it in old texts, look at the pictures of what would happen, and he would never recoil once. One of the more useful things they did was remove the organs since they would quickly fester and decompose not long after the body was entombed. Brain removal was a necessary part of this process. In order to do it, Gabriel learned that a hook was inserted into the nostrils and wrenched up to break the bone behind the nose that was protecting the organ. After, pieces of the brain would be pulled out via the nasal cavity until it was then flushed clean with water once all of the larger pieces had been removed. Sylar never dreamed that such an antiquated technique could serve his needs so well in this day and age.
As the man gasped Sylar stuck his crooked fingers into the man's nostrils and he took a moment to get a good grip before he violently wrenched up and back, the satisfying snap of bone was coupled with the less than satisfactory spray of blood that soaked Sylar's clothes. He turned away, the crimson substance dripping down from his stubbled chin as he wiped his face off on the back of his free arm.
"Ugh...that's quite the mess you're making Robert."
As his victim screamed and gurgled, no way to struggle within his telekinetic hold as the rush of blood served to choke him. Robert Keep drowned on his own blood within mere minutes at the angle he was held. When Keep stopped gurgling and twitching, Sylar moved in and started to jam his hand in more, fingers reaching and yanking at tiny bits of brain that could be scraped out. It was a sickening process to get to the exact section he needed. Viscous fluids and blood soaked his hands by the time he found it. Keeping the door locked with his mind as the knob jiggled and pounding was heard on the other end.
Finally when he managed to absorb the ability he went to the sink and calmly washed his face and hands the best he could. Discarded fragments of brain awash in a pool of blood next to the dropped corpse on the tiled floor. After Sylar used what was left of the paper towels in the brown mounted dispenser, he listened closely outside of the door. For a moment--there was no one else around. So he made a careful, quick exit from the diner. Rushing to head back to the facility--completely ecstatic at the possibilities of his new ability.
Back in Hartsdale there was a major incident beginning. When Elle Bishop found out that her father was no longer leading the Company and had 'mysteriously disappeared' she was going to find her answers. But when the guard at the gate denied her access-- Elle knew that things were not the same as they were a couple of days ago. Luckily, she was not deterred and managed to gain entrance into the facility building. Shame about the guard though, she always thought he was nice. She clacked her tall black knee-high boots down the halls, focused on finding her father or finding out just why exactly she was being kept out of the building. She encountered a few lower-level agents, trying to tranquilize her as she sparked and sent bolts flying across the halls of the floor she was on. One bolt completely fried the first agent to a crisp and the second was stunned after a blue bolt bounced off a box on the wall and sparks rained down. It was a fuse box and the entire floor went dark in seconds. Elle slowly moved down the hall and over to the nearly unconscious man. She crouched down by him and stares at him silently for a moment as he gasps and coughs.
"Where's my father?"
Her tone was calm and even as the man remained silent, just looking back up at her. Elle sighed and suddenly a blue, crackling light sparked up from her fingertips as she held it right to his face. It was the only glow in the dim room as a siren suddenly started to blare.
"Where...is...my...father?"
With each word, Elle jolted the man a little more making him cry out in an increasing amount of pain.
"L-LEVEL FIVE!"
She furrowed her brow at the response then dismissively shocked him again as she stood up again and strolled off to the stairwell. When she hit the the last step, a loud scream echoed down the hall. It was a man's scream and then it was suddenly cut off.
"Dad!?"
As Elle rushed down the hallway, she noticed that the cells...were wide open. Suddenly she stopped, and she wished she had her gun with her still. But having what flows through her veins--could just be enough. She sparked up her fingertips, a glowing blue ball of electric energy lit her way as she moved down the hall toward the scream. The woman turned the corner and peered down the next corridor of cells. A blue glow keeping her path lit as she moved into the first cell on her right. A typical level five cell. Cot in the corner, small sink and toilet...and she saw it. Elle saw a body whose condition could only be described as mauled.
Deep gashes in the chest, on the face, a pair of glasses cracked and bloodied nearby. When the moment of shock passed and she realized that her father, Bob Bishop was the body that she was staring at, she felt tears stinging her eyes. But no. No, he would not have wanted her to cry. She was raised to be stronger than that, so she steeled herself and set about focusing on the task at hand, finding out who did it and stopping them before they could hurt anyone else. Suddenly, Elle heard a loud crash, she tensed at the sound and quickly moved out of the cell. The pulsing ball of electricity glowed brighter with every step, turning from a sphere that slightly flickered into an erratic, spiky, crackling mass of instant-death for whomever was unlucky enough to be blasted with it. Another crashing sound and she found herself hurrying to get back out into the main hall but in mid-step she found her body flipped over and thrown backward. Elle was stunned for a moment then re-charged her hands to see what happened. Out of the shadows, the blue light lit up his pale skin--and gave the blood that stained his hands and shirt an irredescent hue that twisted her stomach. How did he get out? The blood...it was him.
"You...you shouldn't be here...I locked you up...WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!"
But Sylar wasn't really paying attention to Elle--he was trying to listen around them. They weren't alone. Someone was stalking her and he thought he saw a flicker of a figure before he flicked her out of the way.
"Shhh! I didn't do anything to..."
He looked down at his blood-stained hands and shirt. Oh she'll never believe him. Sylar was right, she sent a blinding blue flash across the room and it nailed him right in the chest, tossing his body from the impact of the force used. He smacked onto the floor and back into the shadows in the darkened hallway.
Elle quickly got up, brushed herself off and started toward the man. She was put-off that the familiar smell of charred flesh wasn't stinging her nostrils. When he stood up again, she sparked up her hand to see the damage that she had done. It made her stop in her tracks when she realized that their wasn't a single burn on his skin, but his clothes were rather singed.
Sylar had yet to test the ability he just obtained in New Jersey no more than a few hours ago. Forget the cheerleader for now, impenetrable skin was a godsend. He couldn't help a small smirk.
"That little trick won't work on me anymore Elle. But listen, I didn't do that to him. I was just sent down here to try and contain the situation. Twelve detainees have escaped...I assumed it's when you went berserk and ended up frying the central power grid. But Angela told me that the people in this level...are the worst of the worst. For a second, I thought I heard anoth--AGH!"
Suddenly Sylar found the figure from before had all but pounced on him. Striking at him, and slashing at him again and again all the while. Sylar threw the man off of him and he went right for him again. The figure possessed incredible strength, tenacity, and reflexes. Before Sylar could even get up off the floor, the unknown man was on him again. If Sylar's skin couldn't be broken he would have watched his own flesh and tendon rip and shred and splatter all over the walls.
A gunshot rang out in the halls, followed by another. The figure on top of Sylar went limp and he rolled out from under the body. Panting, he took a moment to catch his breath as he looked over at Elle. It wasn't her... though she had tried to help him. Flashes of blue light sparked during Sylar's struggle. Noah Bennet lowered his gun, smoke curled up from the freshly used barrel. He walked forward to the body and peered through the darkness. Just as he'd thought. Sylar stood up and ran a hand over his face and shirt. Hell his shirt and vest were completely ruined now. Tattered and burnt material that was so nice and pristine not hours ago. He tensed some at the sight of the man in the horn-rimmed glasses standing there with a gun. In the past, that never ended exceptionally well for him. But something told him things were different now even with this man.
Noah stepped back from the body and looked at Elle and Sylar in turn as he spoke.
"That was Benjamin Washington aka Knox. A violent criminal with an ability that can only be described as animal mimicry. He can take on the speed, reflexes, attack and defense mechanisms of any predatorial creature. I put him in his cell three years ago. He and eleven others that should be down here...but they're all gone, escaped."
Elle looked around and she felt her stomach twist.
"I didn't...I mean it wasn't me who let them go!"
Noah shook his head. He moved back toward her and kept a wary eye on Sylar. Part of him wanted nothing more to lift his gun and take down the other violent criminal in the room. But no, he had to maintain a sense of professionalism. If only for his family, who were still being left alone to live their lives because of the sacrifice he made to come back to these people.
"No, Elle. You blew the power but the security mainframe was breached by someone with technopathic abiliities. It wasn't you. They sent me as soon as it happened but...it seems I was too late."
He turned to Sylar and clenched his jaw some as he spoke.
"Eleven people are still out there. Dangerous individuals. Angela wants them back, all of them. She wants me to do it...and she wants you on this as well. Company policy dictates that on a mission it's supposed to be one of us...and one of them. You're the 'them', Sylar. We're partners."
Noah almost couldn't say the last word and Sylar stared in shock at what he said. His mother really was serious about all of this. Serious enough to force the man whose daughter he tried twice to kill to stand by his side. A slow smirk came across his face as he thought about it. All those powers--simply ripe for the taking when they found all of them again.
"When do we leave?"
Rating: R. Slightly graphic scenes of death.
Word Count: 2,873
Pairing: Mylar though they're having separate adventures and now it's Sylar's turn.
Characters: Sylar, Elle Bishop, brief cameos by Bob Bishop, a new villain from the promos, and an old friend.
Spoiilers: Ish. Not so much anymore since I'm at the point where it's just heavy speculation inspired writing.
Summary: Sylar gets sent on a quick ability-grab by Angela and then gets in the middle of some mayhem going down back in Hartsdale.
A/N: Not only thanking the usuals. I'm thanking Everyone who has supported the fic, all of my friends for encouraging me to continue. You guys are the greatest. XD
Next Time: Sylar goes full-tilt Company and it leads him closer and closer to the familiar doorstep of a geneticist in Brooklyn.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, NBC/Tim Kring do though. But I pull them off the shelf every so often to play.
Previous Chapters:
1. One Missed Call
2. Unfinished Business
3. A Loss of Control
4. For What's To Come
5. The Privilege of Power
6. Discovery
It was interesting how much his new destiny looked and tasted like his old. Bitter, badly-brewed coffee that Sylar was drinking out of habit and a bit of a caffiene addiction more than any actual enjoyment of the beverage. He set the mug down and glanced up at his intended mark, a file given to him directly by his...well his mother. If he were a man who drank he'd need something a great deal stronger than black coffee to help deal with that little bombshell. True he had so many questions about it but...he didn't want her to know how thrown off he felt by the situation. Sylar wanted to maintain control at all costs.
So he sat in the non-descript diner in New Jersey and waited to make his move. In a way, the whole thing made him nostalgic for the beginning days of this journey for power. Days spent under a black baseball cap pulled low, moving in and out of the shadows of people's lives...going from a passive observer to a very active participant. But back then there was always a carefully maintained secrecy to it all. Careful never to touch things personally for the sake of fingerprints, to have any witnesses who could ever trace him back to the scenes of his crimes. But now Sylar positively luxiuriated in his newfound freedom. If he wanted? He could off the man right here in front of everyone and the only people who ever would have captured him would let him. Pays to have family in high places, apparently.
He finished draining the seafoam green mug and set it back down, looking over again at the man...he was such a slow eater. Sylar adjusted the black vest he wore over a button-up shirt, both paired with trousers and black dress shoes. It was certainly different than how he'd likely have dressed on his own, they were the clothes waiting for him when he left his cell, but he actually rather liked the overall image they projected. He reached up and absently twisted and spiked a strand of hair as he got lost in his own thoughts for a moment, the auburn-haired waitress sauntered up and smiled at the tall man. She lifted the pot of coffee in front of his line of sight to get his attention.
"Freshen up your cup?"
Sylar snapped out of it, looking from the dark liquid sloshing around the container up the arm that held it. He smiled a little and offered his empty mug over to her. Eyes gazing at the nametag on her shirt before he replied.
"That would be wonderful, Meaghan, thank you."
She couldn't help a smile at the man who was far more handsome than a typical day's clientale in the diner. After she poured his drink she did the usual waitress shtick of letting him know that if he needed anything to let her know. Sylar nodded politely and sipped his coffee as she walked away. Then he saw it, Robert Keep was on the move. Out of his booth and walking quickly to the men's restroom. Sylar waited a few moments then took another long sip of his coffee before setting it down on the table. He rose from the booth and moved across the room, over to the restrooms. Walking in through the swinging door that he made sure to telekinetically lock when he could hear only his and the man's heartbeats in the room. He strolled over to the rather low-vaulted urinal and made it look like he was relieving himself while the man washed his hands at the sink. After he flushed, Sylar turned around and stared at the man's reflection through the mirror. When he read about such an incredible ability, he knew it had to be his.
"Excuse me...are you Robert Keep?"
The man at the sink nervously shot his face up and looked toward the dark-haired stranger who knew his name. Nervously he confirmed his identity. Sylar smiled and started in on his carefully-planned approach. Letting the man know he knew who he was, knew what he did, and that he wasn't alone in being so...unique. All of it part of throwing Robert Keep's guard down and getting him to do something frantic like try and escape. And when he did do just that, and Sylar flung him back against the wall, he was scared but not as scared as the others. When Sylar held the man's throat and focused, dragging his finger along that invisible line over Robert's forehead-- he found that this kill would be a little more tricky than others had been.
"...It really is impenetrable."
"You can't hurt me..."
Sylar quirked a brow then chuckled, dismissively. He assured Robert that he was not at all going to be kept from accomplishing what he came in to do. He crooked his fingers while keeping a hold of the man's throat. Reaching his hand forward, Sylar widened the man's mouth with aid of telekinesis. The invisible vice-like grip forced the man's jaw wide open, bending it a little at the hinges.
When Gabriel Gray was a boy he had a complete fascination with the practices of ancient civilizations. One of those being that of the ancient Egyptians and their process of mummification. He would read about it in old texts, look at the pictures of what would happen, and he would never recoil once. One of the more useful things they did was remove the organs since they would quickly fester and decompose not long after the body was entombed. Brain removal was a necessary part of this process. In order to do it, Gabriel learned that a hook was inserted into the nostrils and wrenched up to break the bone behind the nose that was protecting the organ. After, pieces of the brain would be pulled out via the nasal cavity until it was then flushed clean with water once all of the larger pieces had been removed. Sylar never dreamed that such an antiquated technique could serve his needs so well in this day and age.
As the man gasped Sylar stuck his crooked fingers into the man's nostrils and he took a moment to get a good grip before he violently wrenched up and back, the satisfying snap of bone was coupled with the less than satisfactory spray of blood that soaked Sylar's clothes. He turned away, the crimson substance dripping down from his stubbled chin as he wiped his face off on the back of his free arm.
"Ugh...that's quite the mess you're making Robert."
As his victim screamed and gurgled, no way to struggle within his telekinetic hold as the rush of blood served to choke him. Robert Keep drowned on his own blood within mere minutes at the angle he was held. When Keep stopped gurgling and twitching, Sylar moved in and started to jam his hand in more, fingers reaching and yanking at tiny bits of brain that could be scraped out. It was a sickening process to get to the exact section he needed. Viscous fluids and blood soaked his hands by the time he found it. Keeping the door locked with his mind as the knob jiggled and pounding was heard on the other end.
Finally when he managed to absorb the ability he went to the sink and calmly washed his face and hands the best he could. Discarded fragments of brain awash in a pool of blood next to the dropped corpse on the tiled floor. After Sylar used what was left of the paper towels in the brown mounted dispenser, he listened closely outside of the door. For a moment--there was no one else around. So he made a careful, quick exit from the diner. Rushing to head back to the facility--completely ecstatic at the possibilities of his new ability.
Back in Hartsdale there was a major incident beginning. When Elle Bishop found out that her father was no longer leading the Company and had 'mysteriously disappeared' she was going to find her answers. But when the guard at the gate denied her access-- Elle knew that things were not the same as they were a couple of days ago. Luckily, she was not deterred and managed to gain entrance into the facility building. Shame about the guard though, she always thought he was nice. She clacked her tall black knee-high boots down the halls, focused on finding her father or finding out just why exactly she was being kept out of the building. She encountered a few lower-level agents, trying to tranquilize her as she sparked and sent bolts flying across the halls of the floor she was on. One bolt completely fried the first agent to a crisp and the second was stunned after a blue bolt bounced off a box on the wall and sparks rained down. It was a fuse box and the entire floor went dark in seconds. Elle slowly moved down the hall and over to the nearly unconscious man. She crouched down by him and stares at him silently for a moment as he gasps and coughs.
"Where's my father?"
Her tone was calm and even as the man remained silent, just looking back up at her. Elle sighed and suddenly a blue, crackling light sparked up from her fingertips as she held it right to his face. It was the only glow in the dim room as a siren suddenly started to blare.
"Where...is...my...father?"
With each word, Elle jolted the man a little more making him cry out in an increasing amount of pain.
"L-LEVEL FIVE!"
She furrowed her brow at the response then dismissively shocked him again as she stood up again and strolled off to the stairwell. When she hit the the last step, a loud scream echoed down the hall. It was a man's scream and then it was suddenly cut off.
"Dad!?"
As Elle rushed down the hallway, she noticed that the cells...were wide open. Suddenly she stopped, and she wished she had her gun with her still. But having what flows through her veins--could just be enough. She sparked up her fingertips, a glowing blue ball of electric energy lit her way as she moved down the hall toward the scream. The woman turned the corner and peered down the next corridor of cells. A blue glow keeping her path lit as she moved into the first cell on her right. A typical level five cell. Cot in the corner, small sink and toilet...and she saw it. Elle saw a body whose condition could only be described as mauled.
Deep gashes in the chest, on the face, a pair of glasses cracked and bloodied nearby. When the moment of shock passed and she realized that her father, Bob Bishop was the body that she was staring at, she felt tears stinging her eyes. But no. No, he would not have wanted her to cry. She was raised to be stronger than that, so she steeled herself and set about focusing on the task at hand, finding out who did it and stopping them before they could hurt anyone else. Suddenly, Elle heard a loud crash, she tensed at the sound and quickly moved out of the cell. The pulsing ball of electricity glowed brighter with every step, turning from a sphere that slightly flickered into an erratic, spiky, crackling mass of instant-death for whomever was unlucky enough to be blasted with it. Another crashing sound and she found herself hurrying to get back out into the main hall but in mid-step she found her body flipped over and thrown backward. Elle was stunned for a moment then re-charged her hands to see what happened. Out of the shadows, the blue light lit up his pale skin--and gave the blood that stained his hands and shirt an irredescent hue that twisted her stomach. How did he get out? The blood...it was him.
"You...you shouldn't be here...I locked you up...WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!"
But Sylar wasn't really paying attention to Elle--he was trying to listen around them. They weren't alone. Someone was stalking her and he thought he saw a flicker of a figure before he flicked her out of the way.
"Shhh! I didn't do anything to..."
He looked down at his blood-stained hands and shirt. Oh she'll never believe him. Sylar was right, she sent a blinding blue flash across the room and it nailed him right in the chest, tossing his body from the impact of the force used. He smacked onto the floor and back into the shadows in the darkened hallway.
Elle quickly got up, brushed herself off and started toward the man. She was put-off that the familiar smell of charred flesh wasn't stinging her nostrils. When he stood up again, she sparked up her hand to see the damage that she had done. It made her stop in her tracks when she realized that their wasn't a single burn on his skin, but his clothes were rather singed.
Sylar had yet to test the ability he just obtained in New Jersey no more than a few hours ago. Forget the cheerleader for now, impenetrable skin was a godsend. He couldn't help a small smirk.
"That little trick won't work on me anymore Elle. But listen, I didn't do that to him. I was just sent down here to try and contain the situation. Twelve detainees have escaped...I assumed it's when you went berserk and ended up frying the central power grid. But Angela told me that the people in this level...are the worst of the worst. For a second, I thought I heard anoth--AGH!"
Suddenly Sylar found the figure from before had all but pounced on him. Striking at him, and slashing at him again and again all the while. Sylar threw the man off of him and he went right for him again. The figure possessed incredible strength, tenacity, and reflexes. Before Sylar could even get up off the floor, the unknown man was on him again. If Sylar's skin couldn't be broken he would have watched his own flesh and tendon rip and shred and splatter all over the walls.
A gunshot rang out in the halls, followed by another. The figure on top of Sylar went limp and he rolled out from under the body. Panting, he took a moment to catch his breath as he looked over at Elle. It wasn't her... though she had tried to help him. Flashes of blue light sparked during Sylar's struggle. Noah Bennet lowered his gun, smoke curled up from the freshly used barrel. He walked forward to the body and peered through the darkness. Just as he'd thought. Sylar stood up and ran a hand over his face and shirt. Hell his shirt and vest were completely ruined now. Tattered and burnt material that was so nice and pristine not hours ago. He tensed some at the sight of the man in the horn-rimmed glasses standing there with a gun. In the past, that never ended exceptionally well for him. But something told him things were different now even with this man.
Noah stepped back from the body and looked at Elle and Sylar in turn as he spoke.
"That was Benjamin Washington aka Knox. A violent criminal with an ability that can only be described as animal mimicry. He can take on the speed, reflexes, attack and defense mechanisms of any predatorial creature. I put him in his cell three years ago. He and eleven others that should be down here...but they're all gone, escaped."
Elle looked around and she felt her stomach twist.
"I didn't...I mean it wasn't me who let them go!"
Noah shook his head. He moved back toward her and kept a wary eye on Sylar. Part of him wanted nothing more to lift his gun and take down the other violent criminal in the room. But no, he had to maintain a sense of professionalism. If only for his family, who were still being left alone to live their lives because of the sacrifice he made to come back to these people.
"No, Elle. You blew the power but the security mainframe was breached by someone with technopathic abiliities. It wasn't you. They sent me as soon as it happened but...it seems I was too late."
He turned to Sylar and clenched his jaw some as he spoke.
"Eleven people are still out there. Dangerous individuals. Angela wants them back, all of them. She wants me to do it...and she wants you on this as well. Company policy dictates that on a mission it's supposed to be one of us...and one of them. You're the 'them', Sylar. We're partners."
Noah almost couldn't say the last word and Sylar stared in shock at what he said. His mother really was serious about all of this. Serious enough to force the man whose daughter he tried twice to kill to stand by his side. A slow smirk came across his face as he thought about it. All those powers--simply ripe for the taking when they found all of them again.
"When do we leave?"