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Hope and QQ heads towards the headquarters of Friends of Humanity to gain the evidence they need. 


It wasn't quite a beehive, but the headquarters of the Friend of Humanity still proved to be pretty busy, an eclectic mix of people heading in and leaving the building. Men and women in casual business wear mixed with bikers in their leathers and soccer mom's in twinsets with purses clutched in their hands.

Even on a regular day, security was tight, so Quentin and Hope could not simply park nearby to stake it out. They had to settle for the small apartment building across the street, easy enough for a telekinetic to break into (he had been doing a lot of that lately). This would be difficult from a distance, but that would just be all the more impressive when he and Hope did what they came to do.

Settling against the window in a vacant unit, Quentin opened his mind to the wide world of flatscan bigotry. It was like belly-flopping into a swimming pool of petroleum. His physical body actually shuddered as he tapped the minds of the FOH attendees, trying to find one he and Hope could commandeer.

"High level access would be best... and we would need to get him wired up as well." Hope quietly murmured as she sorted through the equipment Doug and Sue had given her. While she had a little experience with it, this definitely was not her specific expertise. "Any luck finding our lucky finch?"

"It's a lot of nobodies," he answered. "I . . . hmm." An inquisitive, eager signal was getting closer to Creed and not being shoved away. Access? "Yeah, found the little shit. Let's do it."

"We do need to get him over here to wire him up." Hope quietly reminded him as she finished laying out the equipment.

Quentin shared his sight through the target's eyes with Hope. "Then hop in so we can bring him here to bug him and send him back."

~*~

'Ugh, his mind feels like wading through oily mud or something.' Hope commented fiercely as she directed Nicolai towards the elevator. 'Is this what you feel when you enter the mind of a random bigot?'

"This is worse." Traversing through a mind was nothing compared to setting up camp in one, as Quentin and Hope had done. The psi-scape was still their typical spa, but the huge windows overlooked a dark storm. There would be no pleasant sunny day in the mind of someone so hateful. The sooner they could be done with this, the happier they would all be.

"We need to keep this short. The more we linger, the more Creed is likely to get suspicious, and I can't co-pilot this loser and fog up Creed's brain at the same time."

"All the recording equipment is functioning, so let us head to the wolf's den." The right floor floated up like a distinct grouping of poison green cloud against the storm in the windows and Hope focused on having him hit the right button. Soon the elevator was rising to the top floor and the hallway to the top office lay before them. "Ready?"

At the sound of a soft chime, the door opened to lead into an opulent hallway that was, above all else, distinctly patriotic in its embrace of eagles and flags. Beyond lay an office with open doors. Further, and most pressing, was the man at the desk. Barrel chested and with a bushy beard, Graydon Creed struck the image of a country politician in terms of fashion and grooming. An excellent image, if not for his personality.

"You're late," he sneered. The demagogue sat turned to look out over the expensive view afforded by the office, but as he spun to face the doorway it was clear he held a phone in one hand. "Approval's down in the bible belt and I need reasons. We had those little nothing towns eating out of our hands."

'A very pleasant individual. I am glad we do not have to mess around in his head today.' She sighed while glancing out of the window, seeing the face of a red haired woman with thick glasses come to the fore with a report in her hands, the name Audrey hovering beneath it. Hope's mind spun quickly and she mentally clung tighter to QQ as the words formed in her mind: "Audrey is currently preparing a report on that, sir, and will be with you soon." Drawing from the info Sue and Doug had gathered, she added: "I wanted to confirm the latest changes for the Fellowship ceremony with you if you had the chance to review them?"

Quentin (metaphorically) let her take the wheel for this response while he poured his energy into (metaphorically) popping the vehicle's hood to give them both access to the staffer's memories (literally).

"Do these plans include a bigger celebratory cake because of all that Church of Humanity embezzlement?" he asked Hope rhetorically. "Let's be real, that's what I'd do."

"You do not need so much for that. You could get half a dozen cakes by a private chef for that amount!" The images in the window suddenly shifted, sickly green clouds dropping down as the face of Audrey was erased and the man's memory was laid before them. "Nice work!" Hope replied appreciatively to QQ. "Now, let's see what we can use." A part of her mind stayed with Creed's brusque reply that he didn't have time for such trivialities. The staffer's memories surged to the fore and Hope suddenly knew: "We know Wilhelmina Kensington will not be attending and are still awaiting reply from Kade Kilgore. But the board of 'The Right' has been extremely quiet."

"Why bother to ask if you're just going to fill in the facts? Really," Graydon said with an eyeroll. "Kade will come around. I'll call him. If not, easy to play him and his girl against each other. Trouble at home. Anyway, their little tricks cost too much and can't be hard to crack. We'll put the best minds on it. The greatest."

He took a deep breath and steepled his fingers.

"Hodge, though. That pussy isn't worth our attention. Good, everyday Americans -- children, many children -- are brutalized by mutants and they can't lift a hand? The Right. More like The Wrong." He paused in his own brilliance. "Write that down. We can use that."

Hope quickly set the intention and the staffer lifted her hands to take notes on his phone. A wide smile slowly spread over Hope's face and she glanced over to Quentin. "It looks like 'The Right' might have chosen the right path and broken connections with Friends of Humanity. Like I had hoped..."

"Many such cases, hopefully," Quentin agreed. "That's The Right and Hominis Verendi down, so we need confirmation for the other groups. Turn back to the Bible Belt complaints, get him to talk about the Church of Humanity."

"We already know that they have suffered severe damage." Hope reminded him. "And we still need as many of them here... to definitely break all the connections between them and these 'Friends'. That gives me an idea though..." Shifting her attention, she focused on the next words of the staffer. "Sir, will all the other leaders still be there? They have their own issues to deal with."

Graydon smirked. "They had better be, or I'm paying you too much. It is time for a truly united front. Enough of this scrabbling in opposing political corners, but a wall of American pride. Human pride. They need us. We will use them. What are fellows, after-all, if not more Friends? " He waved a hand, dismissive. "Enough questions. You're more idiotic than useful and I don't have time to hire a new senior aid."

"Unpleasant asshat." Hope muttered in the peace of their spa. "Okay, we really need him to admit his plans." Biting her lips, she projected a quick idea at Quentin.

At this point, Quentin felt like he was just along for the ride and let Hope do whatever she pleased. Was this delegating? What a pleasant feeling to not be a complete control freak for once.

"Sir..." Hope and Quentin protested feebly through Nicolai's lips. "But all of those you are honoring are damaged! They aren't useful anymore!"

"Son, that's the beauty of it. They may be just as good as mutant-hugging liberals, but they're people we can use. We'll rescue them, lift them up, and then help them see the light of their errors. We'll own them." Graydon tapped his desk and leaned forward, cheeks flushed. "I may loathe each and every one of those pretenders, but we're in a dirty business. Time to roll in the filth."

The man's smirk grew pointed. "Of course, just between you and me . . ."

~*~

Quentin was grateful his psychic circuit with Hope allowed him to stand in both the real world and the astral plane simultaneously while she only inhabited the latter. That saved him a potential sexual harassment suit when, as they directed Nicolai back to them to retrieve the wire, he could adjust his pants and not scandalize her with the intense excitement he felt. They had gotten exactly what they needed from Creed. This whole coalition of hate was going down.

They both dropped their holds over the stooge once he returned across the street and the recording device was safe in Quentin's hands.

"So?"

"I say we immediately secure this and then find a place for some food and a nap." Hope stifled a yawn as she took the device from Quentin and ejected what looked like two memory cards. Both were immediately nestled in the foam of a small locked case. Glancing back up Quentin, her eyes twinkled: "Well, we did it. Sneaking in the hole of the lion and all that. We might want to add a small toast."

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