The Confidential

After finding a new hideout to replace the last one, Cyrus takes some time to read the news about the latest events.

Ortega tries to be a good friend, but consequences come back to bite him.

The rangers move one step closer to finding Husk’s true identity.

————————————

“I’ll be taking all these… and a copy of The Confidential, please”

The shopkeeper arches his eyebrows at the mountain of candy and chocolate you’ve deposited in front of him, before adding the newspaper on top.

What? Do you even know how much sugar my brain needs to burn every day?

You almost want to scream about it for everyone to hear, but of course, you can’t. Just smile and wait as he passes every item over the scanner.

“That’ll be twenty-six dollars and fifty cents.” He announces, his gaze going back towards the game on the small TV as he puts the items in a plastic bag.

You try not to curse at the cost while looking for the money in your pocket, every last coin needed to pay up. You calculated the cost of it all but still missed by the fifty cents and now you’re not sure you have enough.

Reluctantly, you push a dollar of gummy bears aside. It hurts because you really wanted those bears, but the man is indifferent to your struggle as he swipes the coins off the counter.

He would never notice if you took them. Perhaps he wouldn’t care, but you contain yourself and just head out. Not that desperate just yet.

The days are getting colder, something you can’t be thankful enough for. Seeing everyone wearing T-shirts when you had to wear triple layers was less than ideal.

You peek into your bag, looking inside. The hundred dollars Ortega lent you are long gone, and there’s no more money for real food today, but you know sugar will keep you going. Keep walking, towards the neon signs of the videogame arcade.

Milos, the owner gives you a hi-five as you come in, handing you a list of repairs on the machines that will need to be fixed. Repairs will be easy, you will just have to do some late shifts and mop the floors in the mornings. In return, there’s a large basement where you can sleep. It was an offer you couldn’t refuse, especially not mere hours after your apartment got washed away in the mudslide. It really paid off to be a good neighbor…

The arcade floor may perpetually stink of cigarettes even if you leave it spotless each morning, but as soon as the customers leave, you can play any game in the arcade, and you have the run of the entire place.

Not going to play today though.

There are few customers by the time you are done and finally close up for the evening, heading downstairs and to that newspaper waiting for you.

You lay on the mattress, forcing yourself to reach for the news, and a few candy bars to help your resolve.

Yesterday’s news wasn’t very informative about what happened, but you expect the reporters will have their act together by now. Asked questions. Knocked on doors.

Reading the stories is an anxiety ride filled with emotions because you are terrified about what they’ll say about you. You wanted to prove you are a hero and that path ended sending you on a collision course against corporations that own you.

How will that ever help make the directive see your worth?

You know It won’t.

The titles stand out, in bold letters distributed through the front page.

“CITY CELEBRATES RECAPTURE OF PSYCHO BUT PHARMACORE THREATENS LAWSUIT AGAINST THE RANGERS. MAYOR CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE?” followed by “GUARDIAN’S CAPTAIN RETIRING AFTER FIASCO. SUCCESSION BATTLE BEGINS!” and finally, the one that makes your hands shake “MEET THE SIDESTEP. EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW! KNOW ALL ABOUT LOS DIABLOS NEWEST HERO”

Your heart pounds as you see pictures of your second battle with Psychopathor… if the media managed to get that close, does that mean there’s a picture if your face there? Ortega took off your mask, didn’t he? All you can do is flip the pages one after another, frantically looking for one, and you’re relieved to find none.

You didn’t feel any reporters around at the time, but you had your hands full trying to keep the Rat King’s telepathic link from blasting you and Ortega.

Going through each page a few more times doesn’t reveal anything. No picture. No mention of the kiss. No talk about regenes breaking their programming and going loose in the city.

On top of that, the coverage is…

Positive?

The Confidential praises you for being there before anyone other hero arrived at the scene. On trying to save lives before the cameras were rolling. On risking your neck to save others…

You’ve done this before. You’ve saved people before while working for the Special Directive, but no one other than Ortega ever said words like these about it. Performance was satisfactory or not, but nobody ever commended your “bravery” as this newspaper does. People thank you for showing off what PharmaCore was doing. According to this, the rangers intervention forced them to enact a real resettlement plan after their lies were exposed?

You’re not used to good news, and there’s no helping the smile on your lips, as you re-read the main story one more time, followed by your “interview”, that is the loose questions and statements you made for the media.

They asked you why you became a hero. You replied you wanted to prove that you could…

And now these articles are proof that you did.

Your face must look stupid now, blushing and smiling like a damned fool, so you hide it from view with the extended newspaper and close your eyes, smelling the ink as you sink into the mattress.

You did it.

A regene that became a hero.

You fucking did it!

It’s hard to remember when was the last time you went to sleep smiling.

The ranger’s communicator wakes you up, much later.

————————-

The Confidential office building, hours earlier.

“Pero que pinche viejo cabrón…” Ortega muttered while coming out of the building, holding the picture to his chest as the newspaper’s front doors closed behind him.

“You!” the voice startled him, making him raise his gaze to see the woman accusing him, finger pointed at his face.

“I knew it! Of course, you’d be here, completing your work!”

Mierda. Riley, standing right there, glaring at him, her young assistant by her side, seeming uncomfortable. Linda, was it? He hadn’t met her before but she seemed eerily familiar.

“Rye?” he asked, trying to play it as surprised… because he really was surprised among other things.

“Don’t you dare call me that! You and your goons and that Vernon clown are trying to ruin me, but I won’t have it, you hear me?”

“Miss Carter, perhaps we should…-” Linda started, only to be cut off.

“Shut it, Linda! You know what this piece of shit did!” she went on, looking the Marshal up and down.

“Now hold on Cruella! We were not the ones in the wrong there. We were preserving the peace against YOUR grunts who were trying to toss poor people into the streets and demolish their homes, remember?!”

“Then why didn’t you tell Psychopathor that? Everything was going to be demolished anyway! And now the Mayor’s blaming me for sending her Guardians into a trap. Their Captain quitting because of that Photo-op you pulled, humiliating their team, and now somehow that’s also my fault? But I’m not the one that’s bad at my job! No! I’m not the one who’s been letting Psychopathor do whatever he wanted for months!” By now she was now poking at Ortega’s chest with her finger, an unhinged murderous look in her eyes.

“Back off!” he grunted, and as he didn’t, he started to yell as well. “Look! This woman is insane! I’m not even touching her!” Only a few bypassers actually looked, before going on about their business, indifferent to their quarrel.

“Seriously Miss Carter, we should go inside… we are embarrassing ourselves, what if someone takes a picture?” Linda tried again.

But Carter wouldn’t let go, getting worse with each passing second until she started to toss harmless punches at Ortega, who blocked with one of his modded arms, while still protecting the picture against his chest.

“Por Dios Riley… You know there are cameras here, right?”We are in front of a newspaper? Hello?”

That did it. Linda walked in and physically pulled Riley off the Marshall, as she screamed her lungs out, face red with anger, makeup all but ruined now.

“I WILL RUIN YOU! YOU HEAR ME? YOU ARE DONE! YOUR STUPID RANGERS ARE DONE! I’LL RUN YOU ALL OUT OF MY CITY! MARK MY FUCKING WORDS!”

And with that, Linda shoved Riley inside the building and out of view -surprising strength for such a small frame- leaving Ortega alone.

Ricardo sighed, cursing again. Cyrus had told him this could happen. All that emotion would have to go somewhere, and now he was reaping what he sowed. Pure hatred, and a new dangerous enemy.

He looked at the picture he had come to retrieve once more, and it seemed unharmed.

Kissing Sidestep.

It wouldn’t ever see the light of day, and he should burn it.

He really should. It was a violation of his trust that it existed at all.

A shake of his head, and he started walking towards his bike when he remembered where he had seen Linda before.

He pulled his phone and dialed a number, wondering if it was just his mind playing tricks, but he had to be sure.

“It’s me, Chen. Are you at the HQ?”

“Yes. Running some system diagnostics. Something came up?”

“Maybe. Once you’re done, can you get those drawings Sidestep made, the ones from Husk’s mind? They must be somewhere in my office. I need to compare one of them with a real-life person… see if there’s a match”

“Who is it?”

“Goodman. Linda Goodman.”

“But Isn’t that…”

“Yes.”

A moment of silence, as the implications sank in

“We’re going to need a lot more than a drawing made by a telepath you picked off the streets”.

“I know. We can’t touch PharmaCore unless we’re sure. Not after all this mess… we’ll have to be subtle.“
———

My Fanfiction:https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-heroDISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero world. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for his wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.