Who: Zeus, Herakles, and Enemies. What: Time to go. Where: The Jube Hotel When: Around 10:30 PM, Saturday night Warning: Violence
Splat.
Wincing at the unexpected impact, Greg turned his eyes to the sky. Eh? Oh... Sure enough, the evening sky was dark and cloudy. He'd been told they were expecting rain while a huge snowstorm smashed the other Eastern states up north, but he'd forgotten. As it started to pour down, he pressed himself closer against the wall of the hotel door. It didn't help much. The god sighed a bit and reminded himself he was getting sweet overtime, and had been for a while; out of the blue a month or so ago, his father had requested him to stick around the hotel when he was working late or stuff. Tonight was such a night. From what he could hear past the door, though, Zeus was getting ready to go soon. Phew.
Sure enough, the immortal came out shortly after he finished the thought, with a suitcase that looked like it was about to implode from the amount of paperwork in it. He chuckled to himself and turned to face his father. "Done for the night?"
The thunder god nodded back. "At least I am here, anyway," he replied, "But it's going to be a longer night yet. Let's leave, for now."
The duo headed down the stairs towards the parking lot. The lights had been shut off for the night save for a single overhead lamp. Greg held his own coat over his head as it began to pour down, while Zeus was not minding the wetness for obvious reasons. Parting from his father to go to his truck on the other side of the black space, he began to get in when he realized he heard a sound. No, a voice.
"Hello, Mr. Jube."
Greg turned back around and looked. In the center of the parking lot stood a man. He seemed small and pale with frizzy white-blonde hair that was gelled down harshly against his skull. The dark brown suit he wore looked sharp enough to cut you. And... even from afar, Greg could see the expression on his face when Zeus came to a stop in front of him; mixed fascination, disgust, and glee. It reminded him of a fox who'd just realized he'd found his way into the chicken coop.
As his son watched, Zeus turned to face the man and smiled; from the looks of him, he was either a customer or a business partner. "Hello. You seem to have an advantage over me."
"Oh?" asked the stranger.
"Yes. You know my name. And you are?"
"Mr. Duvall." As he said his name, over a dozen men emerged from everywhere, and their sleek black body armor didn't leave any doubt about what they were there to do. Neither did the smooth guns they held tight against them, and all of them were pointed at his father. Mr. Duvall didn't move a hair. Clearly, he had expected them. "[And I would wish to speak with you.]"
For only a brief moment, Zeus seemed shocked, but then it faded into a hardset scowl. "[This took you long enough,]" he said in a controlled voice. "[I suppose you are here for me.]"
"[Oh yes,]" replied Duvall in his accented Greek. "[You've obviously been expecting us... your security system is near impossible to work around, I will give you that. But, nothing is perfect, no?]" The mortal chuckled, shifting to another foot with his hands still behind his back.
Greg growled and marched out. The small army all pointed their weapons towards the tall immortal but a curt signal from Duvall cut off any action after that. "Who the fuck are you?" demanded Herakles.
"Mr. Duva--"
"I meant who are you with." Already, he was assessing the armored men; this was clearly going to get into a fight. The closest one to him, if he could reach out and grab his gun, kick him back, use the gun to smash in the helmets of the other two...
"Oh, I think you know. But regardless. This is far more chatter than I planned for this, I'm already..." The mortal glanced to his watch. For the first time, Herk noticed that he too ws ignoring the rain. His hair was plastered against his head, making his appearance even more skull-like. "Two minutes past schedule. Well, let's get this over with." And he snapped his fingers.
The armored men charged.
With a fierce yell of battle, Greg side-stepped past his father and went to meet them. Within moments, the first man was on the ground, clutching at broken ribs. Subrosa. It has to be Subrosa, he thought as he threw another man into the side of a car with enough force to shatter the windows, yanking his gun away from him in the process. Over his shoulder, he heard a crack and could almost feel the burst of light as his father sent off a bolt to a mortal in front of them. He didn't even react. Had to be the armor, it was neutralizing it or something. There was a prick in his arm, and he looked down to see a pair of bullet holes the size of quarters in his bicep. Growling, he held onto the butt of the gun and swung it toward one of his attackers. Like paper, the shooter's visors crumpled in on itself, the man inside it crying out as the plastic broke into his nose and mouth.
There was another feeling, but more of a sting than the impact of a bullet. Looking down again, to his right arm this time, he saw little darts with deep black tufts sticking out of the end. Tranquilizers? Seriously? Did they really...
Think...
That...
With a gasp, Herakles collapsed. The air was being sucked out of his lungs, no, out of his entire body. It felt like every nerve was on fire underneath his skin! This pain, oh gods this pain, he hadn't felt this sort of agony since... since... he had died.
"What did you do?!" he heard his father yell above him. Strong hands turned him over but they only added to the overwhelming burning; Herakles howled.
"Ah yes, this batch is much better than the last, finally scientists are worth the damn money put into them, hm?" Though he couldn't see it, with his eyes clenched shut, Greg could hear the sneer in his voice. "The effects are much stronger than I had imagined."
Zeus hissed with rage at the man and stood with fists balled tight.
"Now now! We wouldn't want anymore violence than could be going on, hm?" Stepping forward, the mortal held out a phone. Across it's screen, Zeus could see images; men like the ones facing them here, but these ones were outside of his home, Hades', Hestia's, those of his children, nieces and nephews, relatives...
The god king felt bile rising up in his mouth. This wasn't a murder. This was a kidnapping. "Where?"
"Nowhere. But not here." As if on cue, a sleek gray car pulled up into the lot and opened the doors to the back. "Don't worry about your son, Theos Agathus," said the mortal, invoking the age old title with just a pinch of malice in his tone. The Good God indeed, it said. "He'll live to see another day, he is the strong one, after all. But I can't promise the rest of them will."
"Why?"
Now all sticky sweetness dropped from the blonde man's voice as he replied, "You know why."
"... I see," said Zeus quietly.
Herakles strained to hear him from the ground as the pain continued to rack through him. He wanted to cry out for his father's help but knew there was little Zeus could do for him. But he couldn't go with them! "[Don't go. It's a trap. Don't!]" he said through gritted teeth.
"[Oh, he knows that. Now come along, Zeus, before you hurt someone else you love.]"
With horror, the son watched the father walk calmly with the short man to the car, and get in. The god didn't even look back before the car whipped itself out of the parking lot. "No! NO! Dad!" He groaned, the yells drained him. Suddenly, the parking lot was silent. He could feel consciousness slipping. Just... too tired... As his senses drifted away, he wondered if this was what death was really like. No gods coming to take you in your final second, to whisk away your soul. There was just the feeling of his cheek against rough ground. His vision had to be going, too... he could see the blood coming out of his arm, but it looked...
...Red...
Summary: Herk and Zeus are staying late to cover for work, and are caught leaving by some old enemies. One of them walks away. One of them doesn't. Action!