Chapter 63 : Normal
"Ah, shit. Now my mood is ruined," Mark muttered, looking at Deep, still unconscious on the cafeteria floor. He had come here for good food, not unnecessary drama.
He turned toward the waiter and pointed at Deep. "Get somebody to clean that up."
The waiter stared blankly for a few seconds, then nodded quickly. Mark pulled up his hood and left.
***
"Oi, take those off," Butcher said the moment Mark walked into the hideout.
Mark crossed his arms over his chest and took two steps back. "Ummm, Butcher, you’ve been watching Ezekiel’s gay sex tape for days now. Did that awaken something inside you?"
Frenchie, going through recordings at the table, slowly looked up. Somehow Mark had managed to insult Butcher while acting like the victim. At that exact moment M.M. walked in, saw the situation, and silently walked back out.
Butcher stared at him. "Fuckin’ hell, what the bloody fuck are you on about?"
"I don’t know. First you keep replaying his video for blackmail. Then I walk in and the first thing you tell me is to take my clothes off."
Hughie nearly spat out his drink.
Butcher rubbed his forehead."Nobody wants to see your scrawny arse, mate. I mean the VIP tickets. Did ya get ’em?"
That made considerably more sense.
"Ah, these?" Mark pulled the passes from his pocket.
Honestly he could bring almost anyone he wanted.
Stillwell had personally handed them over, which meant Vought was extending goodwill, hoping to keep him close. With Translucent dead, they were obviously eager to fill the gap around the Seven with someone popular before the public started asking too many questions.
"Yeah, those," Butcher said.
Mark tossed them onto the table. "Good for you lot. My face is basically your pass anyway. Just tell them you’re with me."
Butcher checked the tickets. "But who’s actually meeting Ezekiel? Because it sure as hell can’t be you." He pointed directly at Butcher.
This time Butcher didn’t answer right away, because he knew Mark was right.
Neither he, M.M., nor Frenchie looked remotely like the kind of people who attended Believe Expo — the whole thing was packed with church groups, teenagers, families, and volunteers. The three of them looked like men who belonged in police reports.
Security would stop them before they got within a hundred feet of Ezekiel.
There was another problem too. Butcher had no intention of exposing his people’s faces unless absolutely necessary.
Once Vought knew who they were, future operations got infinitely harder, and they were already moving carefully after everything involving Compound V, Popclaw, and A-Train.
That left only two possibilities.
Mark was immediately out — the moment he stepped onto the Expo grounds, cameras would follow him everywhere, Vought would have people around him constantly, and trying to blackmail Ezekiel while playing the role of special guest would create a disaster visible to the entire country.
That left one person.
Slowly, Butcher turned toward Hughie.
Hughie noticed immediately. "Oh no."
Butcher walked over and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Hughie, mate, it’s time you shine."
The room went quiet. "Why me?"
"Because you’re normal," M.M. answered before anyone else could. "Nobody remembers normal people. That’s why you’ve been useful from the start."
Frenchie nodded. "When we need somebody to blend into a crowd, it is always you, mon ami. People trust your face."
Mark leaned back. "Believe Expo is literally designed for guys like you. Clean clothes, polite attitude, harmless appearance. If somebody asked who among us actually went to church growing up, everyone would point at you first."
Hughie looked unconvinced. "I work at an electronics store. How does that qualify me for blackmailing a superhero preacher?"
Butcher squeezed his shoulder. "Because you don’t look like a threat, son. That’s the bloody point. Me, M.M., and Frenchie walk in together, security starts askin’ questions. You walk in, people assume you’re there for the music and free pamphlets."
Nobody argued with that.
"What if the blackmail doesn’t work? What if Ezekiel just tells me to piss off?"
The atmosphere turned more serious. M.M. folded his arms. "Then we pull out. We’re there for information on Samaritan’s Embrace and the Compound V pipeline, not a fight."
Frenchie closed the laptop. "The video gives us leverage, but it guarantees nothing. If he refuses, we adapt."
Mark spoke last. "I’ll be there the whole time. If something goes wrong, call me. Vought wants me smiling for cameras, so nobody’s going to suspect anything if I move around the grounds."
"And then what?"
"Then we figure it out." Mark leaned back. "But don’t worry. Ezekiel will talk. Just tell him I have friends who can upload those videos onto every platform imaginable if he refuses to cooperate."
Hughie still looked uneasy. "You really think that’ll work?"
"It should. He built his entire reputation around faith and family values. He should know better than anyone that a lot of Christians who support him don’t exactly accept gay love." He folded his arms.
"Religion is a double-edged sword. It gives people influence and loyal followers, but it also puts chains around them. The moment they fail to live up to the image they’re selling, everything starts falling apart."
M.M. nodded slowly. "He’s got a point. Guys like Ezekiel make a living off trust. Once that’s gone, so is everything else."
Frenchie closed his laptop. "Mon ami, you are becoming disturbingly good at this."
Mark shrugged. "I’m just being practical. We only need information, not a war."