Chapter Text
“Holy fucking shit, I am so bored.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Flambae,” Robert droned sarcastically. “Was the armed bank robbery not exciting enough for you?”
“It was a toy gun, Robert.” Flambae retorted.
“Yeah, the bitch was threatening people with something you can buy on the clearance aisle at Target.” Prism chimed in, a similar apprehension in her tone. “Not really the high-stakes mission we were promised.”
“Well, I for one, am glad we’re having a slow day.” Robert leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. “We’re basically being paid to sit on our asses.”
“Kinda like Sonar’s old bitmining gig.” Malevola mumbled.
“Actually, you’d find that bitmining can prove to be incredibly dangerous,” Sonar lectured. “Did you hear about the guy who died of heatstroke in his sleep because his monitor got too hot while mining -- ?”
“Shut up for a second.” Robert interrupted as a new alert popped up on his monitor.
A small fire had started in an abandoned warehouse.
Robert exhaled deeply and stared at Flambae’s icon.
“What’s the problem, Rob-Bob?”
“You. You’re the problem.” He growled. “I thought we talked about this.”
Flambae scoffed. “Okay, fuck you too, bitch. What are you talking about?”
“You were just talking about how bored you were and we now have reports of a fire downtown. You don’t know anything about that?”
“No, actually, I don’t.” Flambae snapped. “Why’re you so quick to accuse me?”
“To be fair, you do have a bit of a track record.” Golem provided flatly, earning an expletive from Flambae.
Robert groaned. While he had suspected Flambae on instinct, the fire was a decent distance from SDN HQ. Unless Flambae had left his tracker in the break room, there wasn’t a feasible way he could’ve lit the fire from where he was.
“Alright, whatever. Waterboy, think you can handle this solo?”
“Oh! Yes -- yes, of course! I, uh, won’t let you down, Robert!” Waterboy stumbled, his near eternal peppiness clear in his tone.
Three new alerts popped up simultaneously.
“What the fuck?” Robert mumbled, mouse hovering over the icons.
Another armed robbery. An explosive bar fight. An unidentified package on Vanderstenk’s desk, presumed to be a bomb.
An ill feeling tugged at Robert’s gut. Was this just cosmic karma for daring to believe they could have a relaxed Tuesday? The fact that three high-profile reports appeared all at once felt suspicious, like it was orchestrated. Robert just couldn’t pinpoint a reason for it all yet.
He didn’t feel so certain about sending Waterboy out by himself anymore.
“Waterboy? Everything okay over there?” He asked, opening a private channel between the two of them. He was greeted by the sound of rushing water. The noise stopped when Waterboy realised he was being talked to directly.
“What? Oh! Yes, everything -- it’s all good. Fire’s under control, Rob! Robert.” Waterboy replied. “Why do you -- is something going on?”
“Just checking up on you.” Robert clarified. “There’s some suspicious activity going on. You haven’t seen anything odd, have you?”
“Um, not that I -- I don’t think I have?” Waterboy mused, scanning the area. “I’ll keep a lookout --”
Waterboy cut himself off. Robert’s heart rate spiked.
“Waterboy?”
“One -- one moment.” Waterboy murmured, oddly steeled. “I think I -- I hear something. Inside the building.”
“What do you hear? Talk to me.” Robert asked, careful to keep his voice low.
“It sounds like -- Robert, I think someone’s hurt.” The normal waver in Waterboy’s tone was absent, leaving Robert with a strange feeling in his stomach. “I should -- I need to check it out.”
“Agreed. Just --” Robert took a deep breath, trying to shake the uneasy feeling this shift had brought him. “Proceed with caution, I suppose. There could be anything lurking in there.”
Waterboy approached the now soaking building with careful steps, peering inside the warehouse. The light from outside only went so far, the rest of the area engulfed in inky darkness.
“Robert, I can’t really -- my eyesight isn’t very -- good.”
“Shit. Let me see if there’s any security cams still operating in there.” Robert mumbled, opening his program to hack into the cameras. To his relief, there were three separate active cameras on the premises.
“Alright, I’ve got visuals. I’ll let you know if you’re about to break your ankles or something,” Robert attempted a joke to lift the tension. It didn’t work.
Now with audio input from both Waterboy’s earpiece and the cameras, he could hear the sound Waterboy was referring to. An echoing, distant cry, easily from a young child.
“Hello?” Waterboy called into the warehouse. “I’m with SDN! I’m, uh -- I’m here to help you!”
The crying continued. Waterboy followed the sound, allowing Robert to guide him through the darkness. He squinted, trying to make out anything -- the outline of a body, the glint of movement. Anything to give him a visual indicator as to where the child could be.
Waterboy was practically on top of the sound now, but there was nobody in sight.
“You can -- you can come out, I won’t hurt you!” Waterboy reassured, keeping his tone even. “Are you injured? Can you not mo -- move?”
Waterboy got his answer when he almost tripped over something on the ground.
Below his foot was a small box. Carefully, he reached down to inspect it.
It was a speaker. That’s where the noise was coming from.
“Shit,” Robert cursed under his breath, heart sinking.
Everything was starting to make sense. The small, localised fire. The other calls to draw everyone else away. It all pointed to one thing.
“Waterboy, listen to me carefully,” Robert spoke, voice dangerously low. “This is either a very unfunny prank, or a trap. Even if it’s the former, you need to get out of there -- now.”
He heard Waterboy’s breath hitch with panic on the other side, but he didn’t say anything. He knew he’d already drawn attention to himself by yelling at the imaginary child in need, but it wouldn’t hurt him to not continue yelling at nothing.
Robert cycled through the three cameras feverishly. No sign of anyone lurking in the shadows. Yet.
One of the cameras shut out.
“Fuck.”
Robert switched to the camera Waterboy was visible on. He’d grabbed a lead pipe, brandishing it out in front of him to thwack potential assaulters with the little physical strength he possessed.
Something moved behind him.
“Duck!” Robert shouted, surprising even himself.
Waterboy obliged, not giving Robert’s orders a second thought. He’d narrowly avoided a hit to the back of the cranium. Reflexively, Waterboy swung, catching the figure’s shins with the pipe. They howled in pain, legs crumpling below them like a deflated bounce-house. Waterboy took the opportunity to scramble away.
He wasn’t out of the woods just yet.
Several more assailants emerged from the dark. There were too many for Waterboy to deal with by himself.
“Waterboy, don’t try to take them out, just focus on escaping,” Robert commanded, scrambling to contact Punch-Up and Coupé. “I’m sending backup your way.”
He kept Waterboy on the line. There was no way he was disconnecting him now.
“Coupé, Punch-Up. Waterboy needs help.”
“With a wee fire?” Punch-Up laughed. “I just sat down, Rob.”
“He was ambushed. Get over there, now.” He ordered, harsher than he would’ve liked.
“Ambushes are my specialty,” Coupé commented, smooth as butter. “This will be easy.”
Robert ran a hand across his face. His eyes hadn’t drifted from the camera footage. He watched Waterboy like a hawk, prepared to bark orders in case anyone snuck up on his blind spots. However, Waterboy had been holding up surprisingly well on his own.
Even if he did need the help, Waterboy wasn’t sure he’d be able to hear Robert over the pounding of his own heart.
Waterboy landed a punch on a goon’s jaw, pain blossoming in his knuckles from the bad form. Just when he thought he was in the clear, a foul-smelling handkerchief was forced over his mouth and nose.
“Hold your breath!” Robert shouted, feeling beads of sweat dripping down his temples. Luckily for Waterboy, holding his breath was one of his specialties. The goons struggled to keep Waterboy still, perpetual water flow making it hard to get a good purchase on the man’s body.
“Shouldn’t he be knocked out by now?” The ambusher wielding the handkerchief muttered. “I mean, I know it isn’t instant like in the movies, but…”
“I bet you fucked up the dosage again.” The one restraining Waterboy snarked. Handkerchief goon scoffed.
“That was one time!”
Waterboy felt something violent and primal bubbling in his chest. Without thinking, a powerful stream of water shot out of his mouth. The handkerchief goon cried out in pain, doubling over their hand.
Waterboy had blown a hole clean through their flesh.
“Holy shit,” Robert couldn’t help the surprised laugh that escaped him. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Neither -- Neither did I.” Waterboy managed, panting.
The two restrainers had fled the scene. Everyone else ambushing Waterboy had been downed.
“Looks like you didn’t need that backup after all,” Robert sighed. The tightness in his chest had eased.
He failed to notice the man hidden in the blind spot of the one remaining security camera until it was too late.
He pulled a small device out of his pocket and threw it towards Waterboy, not with the intention of hitting him, instead landing in a puddle of his water. Robert didn’t even have time to shout before electricity sparked and arched towards the walking conduction rod that was a perpetually wet man.
The camera fizzled into static. Robert’s receiver beeped angrily, letting him know the connection to Waterboy had been cut. Uselessly, he called Waterboy’s name, knowing it wouldn’t reach him.
He swallowed hard. He couldn’t let himself panic.
“Coupé? Punch-Up?” He strained.
“Zoning in on his location now.” Coupé replied. “He’s disappeared from the radar, but we remember where he is.”
“Yeah, I’ve lost contact with him.” The words came out raspy and stunted, his throat closing in on itself. He inhaled deeply through his nose.
“Shite.” Punch-Up muttered.
The building had been cleared out. The only evidence anyone had been there was the puddles of blood and water mingling together on the ground. Punch-Up sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. “Smells funky in here.”
“Burnt flesh and melting lycra,” Coupé commented. “I’d recognise those smells anywhere. Was Waterboy electrocuted?”
“Yes, unfortunately. Probably why his earpiece stopped working.” Robert murmured. “You sure nobody’s there?”
“Not a soul, lad.” Punch-Up kicked at the puddles, hands on his hips. “They must’ve taken him to a second location. Never a good sign.”
“And here we thought today was a slow day,” Coupé mused.
Robert collapsed back in his chair, pressing the balls of his palms into his eyes. How the hell did he approach this? Every bone in his body was screaming at him to get up, to run, to track Waterboy and bring him home. But it wasn’t that simple. It never was.
He needed a plan.
Robert opened up communication to the whole Z-Team.
“Everyone, I’m cutting the shift early. Meet me in the conference room ASAP. There’s been an emergency.”