Merc's Metamorphs

copyright 2022 comidacomida

Chapter 11:  In the News

Frank didn't go to sleep right away with Chance and Juan.  Leaving both his boyfriends to cuddle together, Frank realized that his brain wasn't yet ready to 'tune out' and if he tried to sleep he'd just end up laying there.  Instead, he went to his age-old fallback: television until he was too bored to bother staying up.  Insomnia wasn't a common occurrence for him, but it also wasn't uncommon; it occasionally reared its ugly head a day or two after the team had been through a particularly troublesome mission, and Santagua certainly fit that bill, and just enough time had passed that he was starting to come to grips with everything that had happened.

That night was particularly bad-- enough so that sex hadn't left him worn out enough to fall asleep and so he sat in the dorm's living room, plopped out on the floor in his boxers with his back resting against the sofa flipping through the channels.  As usual there wasn't really anything good on; late night TV had a way of being particularly bad and they didn't get anything on demand-- the fact that they didn't have a smart TV only made it worse but what college-student-slash-crime-fighter-for-hire really had time to bother with that anyway?  Sighing, Frank realized that his insomnia certainly gave him time.  

Just as he was starting to lose hope of anything even close to attention-grabbing he flipped past a news station with a graphic up behind the anchor with the name SANTAGUA up on it in large print.  Even though he'd already passed it, the young man quickly switched back and tuned in.  the news report was about a coup that had started in the island nation and the fallout from the military losing its Metamorph.  Although Frank was certain that the news station sensationalized it, he decided to listen in anyway, and the reporter had quite a bit to say.

According to the news, Santagua's regime had fallen to a populous movement.  The rebels had successfully overpowered the military, which was shaken (literally) from the loss of the presidential compound and the desertion of their Metamorph.  The reporter identified the capture and imprisonment of the despotic General and that the United States looked forward to providing financial and humanitarian support to Santagua as it began taking steps to move toward a democratically elected ruler.

At that point the focus returned to the studio and the anchor had a few more words to speak on the matter.  He identified a spokesperson from the state department who would be flying out to Santagua in the morning along with several delegates from other nations who would be providing logistical and governmental support to the interim government while steps were taken to ensure a fair and free election.  The whole 'circus' made Frank scowl.  "Fuckin right... they're just using 'soft diplomacy' now that their hand-picked despot got 'retired'  THIS is why we don't get involved with politics."

Sighing, Frank's dour statement didn't really do as much as he'd hoped to squash the burgeoning pride he felt at their success.  Despite how much he protested, he knew that the people of Santagua would have still been under the thumb of El General if not for Merc's Metamorphs, and that made him feel good.  The report concluded, discussing the support and aid pledged by the international community as a whole, reiterating that the US was taking special notice of its neighbor far to the south.

According to the anchor, the US looked forward to warm relationships with the new administration.  Frank felt like he wanted to gag, and his thoughts finally slid over into a more defeatest approach.  He'd once heard somewhere that no good deed goes unpunished, and serving to affect change at the national level was just more proof of that to him.  Despite being a political science major, Frank had long-since come to the conclusion that politics, for the most part, were complete and total bullshit.  He was just about ready to throw the remote in anger when the commercial break made him stop.

Late night commercials, unlike most late night programming, had a tendency to be eye-catching and wacky. Sometimes it was the commercial itself and sometimes it was the product; the advertisement which had absorbed his attention was more of the second variety.  Mobile apps were a staple of late night viewing and the one presented during the news programming break was just another in a long line of silly cash grabs by programmers, but "Doctor Zurban's Metamorph Goggles" mobile app was that times a thousand: it was a joke app that ate up tons of system processing and probably sold all of the user's data to as many interested parties as the publisher could line up.

Frank's first encounter with the "DZMG" was the first day he'd moved into his dorm; Juan had downloaded it a few days prior and broke the ice by letting Frank know that they were both Metamorphs.  The app was about as useful a pet rock, and filled a similar niche in the capitalist market of useful things to spend money on.  In so far as he could figure, Frank guessed that the app randomly assigned a chance of coming up as "This person is a Metamorph", and it was all based on snapping a picture of someone with a phone.  

Looking carefully at the commercial of course, the publisher clearly identified that the app was "For entertainment Purposes Only" in small print under larger small print which identified that the app could not be used through windows, reflections, off of photographs, or with a portrait camera.  Humorously enough, Frank and Juan bonded over the fact that Juan wanted to check himself with the app and so Frank had taken a picture for him using Juan's phone; laughably, he was also identified as a Metamorph.

Doubling down on the humor aspect, neither of them were Metamorphs at the time, and to make matters even worse, they laughed while taking pictures of one another in Metamorph forms to make the app truthful... only to find out that "Doctor Zurban's Metamorph Goggles" reassessed them as both non-Metamorphs-- and Demon too.  They had to explain to their third member what was so funny, but the Pit bull didn't quite catch the laughter; in his opinion, the app was just a stupid time waster.  Neither Merc nor Bruiser could disagree, which only made them laugh more.

In the end, all three agreed not to bother with the stupid joke app again, especially because Juan pointed out that the developer had apparently illegally licensed the name of an actual Altered, using his modest fame for their own benefit.  The Altered, known as Zurban, closely resembled a bat, and served with the Legendary Heroes as a scout of sorts.  Supposedly Zurban's special ability was a form of clairvoyance that let him look past misconceptions which blinded most humans... whatever that meant.  Either way, Frank greatly disliked the thought of making money off the suffering of others and, in his mind, anyone who was thrust into the life of an Altered deserved respect and understanding, not corporate lampooning and abusing a name for profit.

Back in a sour mood, Frank turned off the Tv and tossed the remote onto the couch; he listened to his two boyfriends dozing in the next room, hoping that the white noise they created would help him organize his thoughts.  Sadly, it didn't really help.  Sighing, Frank stood up so he could sit down properly on the sofa, realizing that he'd have to make sense of his thoughts if he was going to expect them to leave him alone.  So, he considered carefully, what WAS it that was bothering him?

Despite getting wrapped up in politics and national news, Frank knew that what they'd done was the right thing.  Having made real change in Santagua, he found himself invested in the small nation-- he was worried about the future of the people there.  He suddenly began to second-guess his first assessment that they'd done the right thing.  Frank hated getting involved in events like that because of all of the different results from the outcomes and due to the numerous angles from which national events could be viewed.  He found that he couldn't help but start to think of worst case scenarios.

What if the new government was worse?  What if El General escaped custody and raised an even greater army to lay waste to the common folk?  What if the US applied too much 'soft power' and turned Santagua into yet another puppet state?  Even as he considered one after another thought as they popped up, he realized that he was deluding himself with problems he wasn't really focused on.  Eventually he had to face the truth and he caved to self-honesty: what happened if Terremoto got involved again on the wrong side?

Although Frank had no doubt that Martin would want nothing to do with El General, but getting rid of one petty tyrant didn't always guarantee that what came next was better.  Metamorphs could improve things, that much was true, but there was still the ever-present threat of things going even further in the opposite direction.  He had to ask himself the question that had been on his mind ever since leaving Santagua: Was Terremoto a loose thread?  Was leaving him alive the wrong call?

Frank hated that he was even considering it-- after all, Merc's Metamorphs didn't kill!  Sighing, he flopped back into the sofa, mumbling to himself over and over again that they'd made the right choice.  He found himself absently pulling at his glove, comforted by the feel of the firm, durable fabric between his fingers.  Taking a moment to practice mindfulness, the young man closed his eyes, actively paying attention to the sensation of the glove moving against his flesh as he gave the cloth a tug in different directions.  His eyes shot open when he realized that his palm was no longer packed in cotton; he'd neglected to replace it after his shower earlier in the night.

Fortunately, he noted, his palm no longer itched.  He slid a finger beneath the glove and gingerly poked at the flesh there.  With the itch gone and no real tenderness, Frank was finally willing to look at the positive side of things; apparently whatever rash or skin condition that had been starting got effectly addressed by his preliminary wound care and it cleared up quickly.  THAT good fortune was finally enough to kick his brain out of its funk and, letting out a loud, lengthy yawn, Frank was pleased to note that his brain was apparently ready to FINALLY acknowledge that he needed some sleep.  

Trudging his way back toward where his boyfriends continued to snore the night away, he snuggled in contentedly between them and was asleep in a matter of minutes.  He dreamed that night and, in the beginning, they were conflicted.  The young man dreamed of war zones, of internal strife, of having to choose between killing someone and letting that person kill dozens.  Just as his dreams were getting to the worst his subconscious could use to torment him, everything changed, and he found himself focusing on much more pleasant topics... like Christopher.  Yes... his dreams were much better after that.

* * * * *

Frank awoke the following morning still entangled with Chance or, more specifically, pulled close to his hefty boyfriend like a living fully body pillow.  Resting against his boyfriend's cushioned body, Frank slowly slipped out of Chance's loose grasp, nose already alerting him that someone was busy cooking in the kitchen; it wasn't all that abnormal for Juan to be the first one up and, when that happened, breakfast was a common byproduct.  Throwing on his underwear and a pair of sweatpants, Frank followed his nose out into the kitchen to see that Juan was indeed hard at work.

Frank was already into his second arepa con quesito when Chance finally awoke.  Although Frank hadn't ever tried an arepa until he and Juan stared dating, it had become a common food of choice for him and he devoured them with a hearty appetite, especially enjoying the cheese added to it.  Real quesito, according to Juan was even better but in the US it was not particularly easy to find so cream cheese was substituted; Frank really didn't mind.  Neither did Chance, apparently, who loaded up three onto his own plate.  He took a bite before greeting them.  "Morning."

Frank, despite the night of sleep, still had thoughts of their last mission going through his mind.  Setting down his mostly-eaten second arepa, he spoke up.  "There was a segment on the news about Santagua last night... sounded like El General got ousted and a new regime is taking over."

Juan nodded, bringing over a fresh stack of arepas before sitting down to join them.  "I saw an article online about it this morning.  Good for them.  With any luck the coup will make a lasting change and the people of Santagua will finally have a stable government that will allow them to prosper."

Chance got up and made his way to the fridge.  He grabbed a cola out of the door and came back over, cracking it open before taking a big swig.  Chance finished it off with a loud belch before adding "Well... we did what we could, guys... the rest is up to them.  In the meantime, we can call it a win and move on, right?"

Frank still scowled. "Sounded to me like the US is getting involved... again.  I bet the CIA is all over it so they can do all their usual behind-the-scenes maneuvering to get what they want out of Santagua's new government."

Juan shrugged. "Tale as old as time."

Considering political science (with some understanding of modern western civilizations, Frank couldn't help himself.  "Or at least starting in the late 1800s with the Bana Wars.  The US is good at using its hard and soft power to get what it wants."

Juan let out a chuckle. "Right.  I'll stay hopeful, but I'll wait to say 'better' until I see it actually happen."

Once breakfast (and the semi-depressing discussion on what might befall Santagua) had ended, the three boyfriends got ready for class.  Frank gave them each a hug and kiss, wishing them both a good day, and headed out to get his day started.  Other than the rather politically-charged discussion over breakfast everything continued in a normal way and at a normal pace, but that led to Frank seeing Christopher in his poly sci class.

The teacher's aide was pretty good at playing his part, serving Professor Monroe as the studious, attentive assistant.  A few times during the class Frank found himself meeting the gaze of the Asian student but, invariably, they each continued with the prescribed roles; Frank had notes to take from the lecture and Christopher did whatever he was supposed to be doing-- Frank found himself wondering exactly what that was, especially since he could have sworn he felt the aide's eyes on him more than once.

Everything came to a head toward the end of the class when Frank looked up and saw Christopher looking at him again; the Asian student smiled... and winked.  At that point, Frank realized that he couldn't say nothing, and so he chased Christopher down after class was over.  Catching up to him in the hall, Frank reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Yo.  Christopher."

Christopher turned around to regard him.  "Hello, Frank."

His relaxed response was almost maddening, especially since Frank could feel him 'eye fucking' him all day.  "You free tonight?"

Still playing coy, Christopher offered a soft smile and asked a far-too-innocent question. "Free for what?"

Keeping himself from growling out of frustration, Frank rubbed his palms against his own legs to bleed off some of the anxiety; he wasn't against making the first move, but Christopher was great at pushing his buttons. "For dinner... Geez.  You're not making this easy, you know."

A gentle, slender hand pressed against his forearm.  Christopher smiled at him chidingly.  "I just wanted to see if you were willing to work for it."

Frank couldn't keep his statement to himself. "Asshole."

Rather than be offended, Christopher laughed.  "Okay... I did deserve that."

Usually not a fan of people laughing at his expense, Frank still found himself smiling.  "Yes you did... and you can make it up to me by saying you'll join me.  For dinner.  Tonight.  Yes or no?"

Once again, Christopher failed to be forthright with a 'yes' or 'no', continuing instead to be frustratingly evasive.  "Oh?  Where did you have in mind?"

Knowing he'd have to bring up the topic of his polyamory at some time, and hoping that it would be the advantage he needed to get Christopher to provide an actual answer, Frank decided that it was a 'now-or-never' moment.  "Not sure yet.  My boyfriends and I are going out tonight-- I told them about you and we all agreed that you should get an invite."

There were a number of responses that Christopher could have given: surprise at Frank's admission that he already had a boyfriend; the fact that Frank had MORE than one boyfriend; the understanding that Frank's boyfriends were okay with including another in on dinner; clarification if it was supposed to be 'just' dinner or something more romantic-- Christopher did none of those.  "Okay.  Sounds like fun.  Count me in."

Rather than the discussion making Christopher pause, it had an effect on Frank.  After a few seconds of calibrating his brain he followed it up. "Yeah?"

Christopher smiled again, pulling at Frank's collar and smoothing out his shirt.  "Yes, Frank... just make sure you text me later so I know where you and your boyfriends choose.  I like knowing what to expect."

Frank blinked.  "Text you?"

Christopher winked, then about-faced to head back down the hall. "Yeah... I have to go or I'll be late for my next class.  See you tonight.  Text me."

Still staring at Christopher, Frank couldn't help but focus on the Asian student's perk ass.  Only once Christopher had turned the corner did Frank stop to wonder how he'd get a hold of him and then, as he smoothed out his own shirt, he heard a crinkle in his breast pocket.  Reaching into it, Frank pulled out a folded up piece of paper with a phone number on it.  He smiled even as he shook his head. "You sneaky little son of a bitch."

* * * * *

It was Juan's turn to choose what the trio would have for lunch and he'd selected the Asian noodle shop inside the college commons.  Frank had a shorter-than-usual class since right before the break since the instructor was out and the substitute went through the lesson plan at a very quick pace.  Holding the line for his boyfriends, Fran was surprised to see that Chance actually beat Juan to the cafeteria.  He pointed out that fact as a greeting. "Well... you're early."

Chance smirked in response. "I was gonna say the same thing.  Professor had to leave early so he condensed things and said we could figure the rest out."

Frank smirked, shooting right back. "Either he's not that committed to his job or he has tenure or something.  Mine took a sick day and our sub glossed over everything."

Despite the two of them being early the line was already long; the noodle shop was really popular.  Fortunately, Juan joined them before they got up to the counter. "Wow... you two are  here early today."

Both went through another rendition of explaining their morning and, once the 'niceties' were out of the way each had a tray and was going down the line picking out their various dishes.  As Juan pulled out to pay for everyone Frank added to his earlier report. "Oh yeah... I spoke with Christopher after class..."

The three of them walked away from the register together; Chance asked for more info. "About meeting us?"

Frank offered clarification. "About dinner.  Tonight."

Juan raised an eyebrow, his casual response softened by his smile. "Really?  That was pretty quick."

"Didn't seem to mind the idea that I already had boyfriends either."

Chance, as usual, lacked tact.  "Well... you know, I hear that Asians can be pretty damn kinky, Fra-OW!"

Silencing his boyfriend with a not-so-subtle kick under the table, Frank returned his attention to his chow mein. "ANYWAY, I figured I'd check in with you guys to make sure it's still ago."

Juan calmly agreed.  "Sure.  It's just dinner, right?  Nothing wrong with meeting someone, so long as neither of you think it's going to turn into an orgy or anything."

Chance groaned. "Awww... it's not?  I figured we could all go back to-- OW!"  It was Juan's turn to kick him.

Once both of his boyfriends had calmed down, Frank continued.  "No sex... not yet, at least... though something tells me he wouldn't mind.  We're going slow, after all-- I think that's best for everyone.  We'll start with dinner, see if he vibes with everyone and, if so, we'll see about taking the next--"

He paused when the cell phone he reserved for Merc work went off; he was receiving a text.  Frank normally the cell at home but he had planned to check their accounts during lunch.  All of the usual clients knew that he wasn't available during the day and, in most cases, the phone was set to automatically send everything to voicemail in case someone DID try to call.  Curious, Frank pulled the cell out and immediately regretted looking at the text ID.  "Who in the hell would call us from Washington?"

Chance wasn't a Pit Bull, but Frank could imagine the big guy's ears go up.  "Washington?  As in, the state?  Well, there's--"

Juan, who was sitting next to Frank peered over his shoulder. "DC."

Shrugging, Chance gave up.  "No idea."

Merc's Metamorphs made it standard policy to avoid Washington DC like the plague; it was far too easy to get roped into some kind of political activity and that was something they had no interest in.  That afternoon Frank felt doubly inclined to have nothing to do with world affairs, especially after the whole Santagua thing.  Regardless, Frank realized that NOT answering the message would only lead to more trouble than responding so, with a sigh, he glanced at both his boyfriends and checked the text.

In general, Frank also made it a point to avoid links sent to him via text, especially ones from numbers he didn't know, but something about looking at it on Merc's cell line left him disquieted and he knew his concerns would only get worse if he didn't at least get a better understanding of what was going on.  "Hey, Juan... can you pull out that trakfone you picked up last week?  They sent a link and I wanna see if we can figure out who this number is before I click on it."

<

Chance did NOT like that idea. "Dude!  Haven't I taught you ANYTHING about clicking on unsolicited links?  This is how cyber crime happens!"

Rolling his eyes, Frank pressed Juan even while addressing Chance's concern.  "I know... but I want to have an idea of who's trying to reach 'us' before we blow em off."

The term 'us' when used in such a manner was secret code for Merc's Metamorphs and they all knew it.  Punching in the number, Juan added "I'll just tell em that I got the wrong number once I figure out who it is."

With the plan in place, Chance leaned forward while Frank leaned sideways, all three of them huddling around the phone.  Juan turned the phone volume up as high as possible and held it at an angle which would allow them all to hear the answer.  There were only two rings before the other party picked up and the voice at the other end sounded like a very professional mature woman. "White House switchboard."

All three of them stood there stunned; despite the great plan, Juan did not immediately apologize for having the wrong number and, as the seconds wore on, the operator on the other end tried again. "Hello.  White House Switch board........... hello?"

Chance, as usual, was the fastest to recover because he apparently didn't need a brain in order to speak. "As in... like... the President's house?"

There was a momentary pause from the other side before an insistent reply with only a single word pressing for more from Chance. "Yeeeees?"

To his credit, Chance quickly fell back into the plan. "Oh... sorry.  Wrong number." and he quickly reached out to turn off the phone.  "So... uh... guess it's the White House, guys... cool, huh?"

Juan inserted his two cents. "I still don't think you should click on the link."

Torn with indecision, Frank typed out a return text: MORE N-FO 1ST.

The response did not take long; it was a pic of the presidential seal followed by a short message:  THE LINK IS AN APPOINTMENT REMINDER.  A REPRESENTATIVE FROM THE CURRENT ADMINISTRATION EXPECTS YOU AND YOUR TEAM TO BE PROMPT.

Frank was not pleased by what he heard. "They say it's a calendar update for a meeting... someone from the president's office wants to see us."

Chance snagged the phone from him and his fingers began to dance across the keys; in less that two minutes he'd pulled up more info.  "Well... the link DOES go to a calendar reminder... doesn't seem to include any logging code, worms, Trojan horses, or auto downloads.  I don't like it but... I mean... it doesn't LOOK rigged."

Sometimes having a computer expert in the team was helpful.  Accepting the phone back from his boyfriend, Frank took the plunge and opened the link.  He felt his heart jump up into his throat, and then sink down into his gut. "Fuck."

Juan and Chance both crowded around him. "What?"

Sighing, Frank turned off the screen. "We have to get to Maryland tonight."

Both of his boyfriends looked surprise, but it was Juan who spoke up first.  "What about dinner?"

Frank shrugged. "Rain check I guess... gonna have to let Christopher know that we have other obligations and hope he'll understand."

Chance stared across the table at Frank and Juan.  "We gonna tell him that we're meeting the president?"

He got two kicks for that comment.