Without warning, everything changed around Leroy. One moment he'd been struggling in the grip of a pair of huge bastards who seemed to be military or something, the next he found himself nearly falling flat on his face as the entire scene blinked from the institutionally gray and white concrete corridor they'd been dragging him down to… wherever this was.
The only reason he didn't actually end up on the ground was because someone grabbed him, steadied him without being unpleasant about it, and let go again the moment he was stable. Leroy looked frantically around trying to work out what was going on. He found himself standing in a room that looked like an office more than anything else, windowless but well lit, with a desk to one side, two sofas along two adjacent walls, and a couple of comfortable appearing chairs near the desk. A couple of plants were near the door, both quite large, and there was a painting of a sailing ship on the wall over one of the sofas.
On the whole it gave the impression of being a doctor's waiting room, or something like that. Slightly impersonal, but still lived in and looked after. And a world away from the cell he'd been thrown in, blindfolded and terrified, the day before by the fucker's who'd grabbed him right off the street.
All this he took in over a period of only a few seconds, while he was still reeling from the instantaneous transition from where he'd been to where he now was. As far as his shocked mind could work out, it had to have been some sort of teleportation or some other Parahuman thing, which wasn't anything he'd ever expected to have happen to him. Breathing heavily from his recent exertions, he looked around again as he slowly started to calm a little, although he was ready to run if needed. Assuming that would do any good, of course.
The only other person in the room with him, the guy who'd stopped him falling flat on his face, was now standing rather more than arm's reach away, watching him carefully. Leroy examined the other man, seeing someone who looked like he'd have little trouble handling himself in a fight, but also looked like he was relaxed but alert and in no particular hurry to do anything violent. Which was immediately a huge improvement over his previous captors, although of course he didn't yet know what this guy wanted or how he'd got here. Or where 'here' was, of course.
The other guy was wearing a black suit, and even though it was indoors under artificial lights, mirror-shades. Leroy couldn't make out his eyes at all which left him feeling somewhat nervous even though there was no sign of imminent trouble. "What…" he said somewhat weakly, then licked his lips as his throat rasped. He hadn't had anything to drink for some time, the other guys not having appeared to consider his needs even slightly relevant. "What happened?" he managed once he'd worked his mouth a little. "Who are you? Where am I?"
"We retrieved you from the people who abducted you, Mr Fields," the other man said calmly in a quite deep voice. "Our operation against the target of interest revealed your presence and it was thought best to rescue you before something… undesirable… happened. Based on our data we doubt they had your best interests in mind."
Leroy thought that over and couldn't help but agree, although nothing he'd been told made him any less confused. "Target of interest?" he echoed. "Those military guys?"
"And their employer, yes," the man replied with a nod. "Our operation was a total success and we were able to deal with their entire organization. They won't bother you again, that much I can assure you."
"Who are you?" Leroy asked after absorbing that bit of information. "How do you know my name?"
"It's on your driving license," his companion said immediately, holding up the relevant ID, then handing it to Leroy who accepted it and stared at it. "My identity is not available for security reasons, I'm afraid, but rest assured we have no ill intent towards you in any way. You were merely an innocent victim of a group one could well describe as villainous. We found ourselves in a position to deal with them and did so. Luckily for you this happened at just the right time." He smiled a little.
"We? Who is we? Are you the feds or something? You don't look like PRT," Leroy queried after thinking for a few seconds more. He'd felt himself calm down a lot as it appeared he wasn't in danger any more, but he was still very puzzled and somewhat apprehensive. "Is this where you threaten me to keep me quiet or something?"
He was very much hoping this wasn't a thing…
"Amusing, Mr Fields, but incorrect," the man replied with a chuckle. "No, we are not 'The Feds' as you put it, nor the PRT. Our organization is somewhat less well known than the latter one, and not directly connected to anything the former term might normally encompass."
Noting that the guy hadn't actually said what his lot were, Leroy decided it might be best not to press the point. "I… see," he replied rather incorrectly. Looking around the office again, he returned his gaze to the man. "So what happens next?"
"We give you back your belongings, along with a certain amount of recompense for the trouble you were put to, and let you go about your business, Mr Fields. We have no interest in causing you any further inconvenience. I would suggest that it would be a good idea to visit the hospital to get that contusion checked out though." He indicated the side of Leroy's head, which was throbbing dully as it had been doing for some hours, since the bugger who'd grabbed him had caught him a very solid blow with a baton or something similar. Raising a hand to it, having mostly been ignoring the pain in his confusion, Leroy hissed as a questing finger produced a sharp throb of agony.
"Yeah, that might best," he said through gritted teeth. "Fuck, that hurt."
"Probably best not to poke it too much," the other man smiled. "We retrieved your belongings and they are on the desk there." He motioned past Leroy, who turned even as he started to say the desk was empty. Except when he looked it wasn't. On it was now a briefcase that had definitely not been there a couple of minutes ago.
"Holy… what the hell? Where did that come from?" He stared at it, bewildered. Any doubts he'd had that Parahumans weren't involved evaporated like dew in the sun. Not getting any response other than a small smile, he finally walked the few feet to the desk and touched the case, finding it was really there, before putting his hands on the latches and pressing the buttons. With a pair of clicks they opened and he lifted the top. Inside was his low end phone, currently off, his wallet with his small amount of cash, his keys, and… about thirty grand in used notes, all in bundles neatly wrapped with a strap around each one. He gaped blankly at more cash than he'd ever seen in one place before, then very slowly picked one up and flipped through it.
It was real, and he was really holding it. There were several more just like it in the case.
"Jesus Christ," he breathed in complete stunned amazement.
"The last possessor of the money has no further requirement for it, and we felt it only right that as his victim you got something for your pain and time," the man said from behind him. "Hopefully it will help reduce the inconvenience. Along with the knowledge that the people involved won't be a problem for you any more."
Picking up another bundle of money, Leroy looked between them in shock, hardly listening. It took some time before he was able to put them back in the case and turn around. "You're just giving this to me?" he asked faintly.
"We are."
"Why?" He shook his head in disbelief. "No one just gives some random Joe thirty fucking grand after rescuing them from some supervillian or whatever the fuck it was."
"We do, Mr Fields," the man replied with a smile. "Because it's the right thing to do. You'll make much better use of that money than the previous owner will, I have no doubt. And to be honest you look like you can use it."
Taking a deep breath, and feeling like he was in a movie or something, this was so unreal, Leroy nodded. "Yeah, believe me I can use it. The last work I got was a week ago and I can barely make rent as it is. One more missed payment and I'll be living on the street again." He stared back at the case with completely disbelief. "That will save me and Janet, and our daughter."
"You have our best wishes for a successful future," the guy said when he returned his attention to him. "And with luck you'll find employment again. Brockton Bay is likely to have a distinct upturn in its fortune over the next few months from what I hear."
"Sure looks that way, yeah," Leroy agreed as he turned to gaze incredulously at the contents of the case for a few more seconds, then reached out and closed it, snapping the latches shut. "This will keep us afloat while I look for work." He turned back. "So what next? I just walk out that door with this?" He hefted the case in one hand as he pointed at the exit with the other.
"Essentially yes, although with a slight difference," the man replied. "For security reasons we can't reveal our location, of course. So we'll transport you to a location of your choice via our own methods, which will prevent any leak of classified information. My apologies for the cloak and dagger approach but we have our reasons."
"Yeah, I kind of worked that out," Leroy said with a half smile, still wondering if he was dreaming. "Do I need to do anything?"
"No. We'll take care of the process. Where would you like to be taken?"
Touching the side of his head again, Leroy winced. "Brockton General, maybe? I should get this looked at, you're right. I can call my wife from there and get her to come and get me."
"That's easily arranged, Mr Fields. Good luck with your life." The guy held out his hand, which Leroy shook gratefully.
"Thanks," he replied.
"It was our pleasure. Oh, yes, for reasons I can't go into you'll find you've lost a small amount of time. You were abducted approximately a day ago."
"It doesn't feel that long," Leroy commented, confused.
"I realize that, although as I said I can't explain," the guy smiled. "Just to warn you. Are you ready?"
Looking around one last time, Leroy nodded. "Yeah."
"Excellent. United National Intervention Operative Network thanks you for your cooperation. Good bye, Mr Fields." Even as Leroy was about to ask what that organization was, the scene blinked from the office to a street just outside the entrance to Brockton Bay General Hospital. He looked around, stunned again at the suddenness of the shift in location, seeing by the appearance of the sky it was early morning, probably around seven AM or so. A few vehicles were passing but traffic was light and the temperature was cold but windless. He was standing on the sidewalk on the other side of the road, in a location slightly inside a service alley, and as far as he could tell none of the small number of people around had seen him presumably appear out of thin air.
Teleportation, again. Weird.
Looking down at his hand, he saw the briefcase was still there, and hefting it he was sure it was the same one. Which meant he had enough money to keep his small family afloat for months, probably over a year if they were careful, and in that time he should with luck be able to find a proper job. No more scrabbling to make ends barely meet at best.
Carefully looking both ways, because at this point he really didn't want to have some stupid accident get him after having survived something truly incredible, he hurried across the street to the hospital. No one was ever going to believe this story, he was pretty damned sure.
Who the hell were 'United National Intervention Operative Network'? It certainly wasn't anything he'd ever heard of before, that was for sure.
Well, whoever they were, they had his eternal gratitude.
He was still trying to work it out even as he was talking to the Trauma nurse and getting logged into the system.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Danny sighed as he looked at his daughter and the others laughing at their latest good deed slash prank. Things were steadily getting stranger and he had absolutely no idea where they were going to end up. On the other hand, they'd saved an innocent life, and made a real difference, even if they'd done it in the most bizarre method they could come up with.
He felt this was likely to be something of a trend and wondered if there was any way to stop it before things got really weird.
Probably not.
"Damn it, Papa, this is all your fault," he grumbled under his breath although he was inwardly quite amused, and very proud yet again of his daughter.
Even if she was going to keep pushing until U.N.I.O.N. did become a thing.
Which it wasn't.
