FBI regional offices, Sacramento CAA large conference room had been reserved for the occasion. At the end of a large oak table was a screen, lit up by a projector, displaying the seal of the Bureau. A diverse group of about a dozen or so people were seated around the table, dressed in different levels of formality and expressing different amounts of stress. These people were the superhumans that the FBI was contracting. The agents from before were all standing or seated at the edges of the wall, chatting with each other and discussing the strange happenings of Power Crimes in the same overwhelmingly bored tone you would expect water cooler discussion at IBM. Security agents, brandishing assault rifles, stood at the doors and in the corners of the room, waiting for something to happen.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, something did happen: a grey-haired man in a black suit and tie entered the room and cleared his throat. The agents sat at attention.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Special Agent McGrath, head of the Bureau's Power Crimes division for the state of California. I'm assuming you've all done the paperwork, so if you haven't, please talk to one of us after the briefing and we'll be happy to help you."
No response came from the peanut gallery. None was supposed to, yet it seemed that he was expecting a response. McGrath coughed awkwardly. "Alright, well, let's start."
The agent pressed a button on a remote and a silent video of the CCTV footage. Police, pistols drawn, approach a child who appears to be sobbing over a pile of flames. The video paused, and a laser pointer from McGrath circled the image of the boy.
"This video was taken about two months ago. That kid right there, his name is Andrew Knox. That lump of fire he's grieving over was previously his adoptive mother, Eva Sterling, an exotic dancer who was also known by her stage name 'Krystal'. We believe she was killed by a superhuman we have been tracking who is a regular of organized crime. But that's not important to our situation, because he's not a suspect for our concerns and there's another investigative team on that front anyways. We are concerned with Andrew here."
The screen switched to something that looked like a color school photograph. A boy with short dark blond hair, green-opal eyes, and freckles was smiling into the camera.
"Eight years old, Caucasian, blond hair, green eyes, four feet and three inches tall and fifty-two pounds. Now, at first glance 'Andy', as his classmates and teachers called him, might not seem like someone of interest to law enforcement, except maybe as a witness to his own mother's murder. That's certainly what the LVMPD believed, anyways."
The screen switched to the CCTV again. Smoking wreckage from a number of squad cars was strewn across the scene. A long smear of blood was all that remained of one police officer. Another rolled on the floor in extreme pain, clearly wounded. Another had been knocked on his back and was staring dumbfounded at the scene, but was holding a gun in the direction of Andrew. Andrew himself was lying face down and still, in a slowly expanding pool of his own blood.
"Guess again. Not only was his mother's murder super-related, but little Andy here is a very powerful super himself. If that officer hadn't managed to get a shot off, the story here might be different."
The picture changed to a mug shot of sorts, taken while Andrew was sedated and recovering from surgery. He looked more or less the same, minus the smile and plus an oxygen mask and dark circles under his closed eyes.
"Luckily, he survived. While he was recovering at AMG Specialty Hospital, though, this happened."
A picture of Andrew's destroyed hospital room appeared. Police and firemen observed the damage, taking notes and pictures of the evidence.
"Early on Tuesday morning, there was an unexplained explosion, and Andrew Knox disappeared without a trace. We want you to find him and bring him into federal custody."
The screen went black, and Agent McGrath took a position at the head of the table.
"Now, I know the two questions that should be on everyone's mind here. 'Why are we going after him, and why did you drag us along for this?'
Well, the reasoning for the first question is simple: Andrew and his powers still pose an unacceptable threat to public safety. We need to make sure that he won't be hurting anyone else. On top of that, we also need to make sure he isn't being hurt himself. Our bureau has reason to believe that his vanishing act at the hospital was not an escape but a kidnapping, as hard as it may be to believe. If someone, particularly someone related to the ongoing investigation into Eva's murder, has decided to take Andrew hostage or kill him to remove a crucial witness, we would need to get him back ASAP. And since he was still recovering at the hospital when he departed, Andrew might not have much time left before he succumbs to his injuries, for good this time.
As for why you all are here? Well, we needed contractors for this one. Everyone knows the only reliable counter for a superhuman is another superhuman, but since this kid ended up killing a cop in his rage, we would have a hard time finding someone in a reputable superhero group who would quietly take the case for us. It's also imperative that we get to Andrew before the CIA or local police departments do, as the former would steal all the glory (and probably start conducting illegal experiments on him), while the latter would illegally kill him on sight after what he did to the LVMPD. We believe that both of these options are wrong, but we certainly can't challenge them publicly on this. We need to simultaneously distance ourselves from this case while ensuring that it gets solved. How do we do that? By buying out a group of superhumans, of course."
Agent McGrath nodded. "So, there you have it. You all are our secret weapons, and your task is to save Andrew's life. Now, any questions?"
