The Chronicle: HAS (Hazardous Assignment Squad)
Disclaimer: I don't own The Chronicle and hold no personal animosity toward Tucker Burns - actually, I rather like him. And I don't own the boys from M7, nor the ATF AU mentioned herein which was created by Mog. I may write more of this AU at a later date, but it is still an OPEN AU.
Donald Stern walked into the secret sub-level meeting room tucked away beneath the offices
of his paper, The World Chronicle, and sighed silently: Standish was here, it must
be bad. As usual with this bunch, he didn’t waste time with formalities. "Okay,
what’s up?"
Chris Larabee, the leader of the Chronicle’s Hazardous Assignment Squad, gestured to
a pile of papers in front of Stern’s chair. "It’s right there."
The editor picked up the first page: a resignation, Larabee’s. He didn’t have to
look through the rest of the stack to know that there was one just like it there for every
man…well, individual present. "Anyone want to explain?"
"Should be obvious; we’re movin’ on," Tanner told him. The long-haired
hunter was the only full-fledged natural genetic mutant on the squad, blessed with
super-acute eyesight and hearing. "Ya don’t need us anymore."
Stern looked around the table at the others. "It was unanimous," Standish said
in a bored voice, but his boss - well, Stern liked to think he was Standish’s
boss, anyway - heard the slight thickening of the accent most people mistook for Southern
and realized the chameleon had probably fought the decision to the bitter end. "We
are to move on to greener pastures, effective immediately."
"Gee, Ez, you’d think a mimic like you could at least fake
enthusiasm," Buck Wilmington said. Stern often wondered if Wilmington, a former cop
and avid UFO chaser, actually didn’t know or simply didn’t care what kind of
fire he was playing with by teasing Standish like that - the chameleon did not like to be
called a mimic, a word he said was ‘better suited to a mynah bird than a person like
himself’. Of course, Wilmington’s long association with Larabee might have just
made him blase about the personal risk involved in baiting dangerous individuals, too.
"At least the kid figured out a way for us to all keep workin’ together."
"Oh, this I’ve gotta hear," Stern said with his usual dry sarcasm. "I
didn’t know the circus was hiring."
"We tried there first," Sanchez deadpanned and didn’t quite wink at him. Of
all of the team, the big priest and professional exorcist was the most comfortable with
Stern and the two of them had had some interesting philosophical conversations in the
past; the editor promised himself he would keep in touch with Josiah if he could, if for
no other reason than to keep his supply of obscure stories fresh for use on the other
teams. "But their benefits package left a lot to be desired so we decided to look
farther from home."
Had Standish just flinched when Sanchez said home? Stern was starting to wish he could
have heard the argument that made the decision ‘unanimous’. He turned his
attention to ‘the kid’. "Well, JD, what’s the plan? Or can you tell
me?"
"We ain’t doin’ nothin’ illegal," Nathan Jackson interjected
sullenly, frowning. "He swore blue to me it ain’t illegal, better not find out
he’s been lyin’."
Stern frowned right back. "Dr. Jackson, your very existence is illegal - you are
singlehandedly breaking every known law of physical reality just by sitting there and
interacting with me. I know Mr. Dunne does his best to remain within the bounds of the
law, but let’s face it, a lot of the time the law simply does not cover some of you
gentlemen so exceptions have to be made." Nathan he wasn’t going to miss that
much; the zombie remained a fine physician in spite of being dead but could still be a
sanctimonious bastard sometimes. Stern knew that Josiah had somehow gained control of the
spell that kept the opinionated doctor walking around, and sometimes he wished the priest
would exert a little of the power that gave him to shut Jackson’s mouth once in a
while. "Now, JD, where are you boys going?"
The dog-boy smiled at him; the result of experimentation just like Sal, the pig-boy, JD
was actually in his forties but looked at least twenty years younger and had the puppyish
enthusiasm to go with his appearance. But where Sal was merely smart, JD was an absolute
prodigy. "I’ve already got it all set up," he panted happily.
"We’re all going to work for the Feds, I fixed it so Chris gets to pick his own
team so he can hire all of us and we can all keep working together, isn’t that
great?!"
"It’ll do," Larabee said before Stern could comment. The former covert-ops
agent with his all-black wardrobe and frigid turquoise glare was one of the most dangerous
humans Stern had ever encountered - more dangerous than many non-humans he'd known, too,
which was why he had hired the man to lead HAS in the first place. "JD has already
planted backgrounds for all of us and he assures me they’re as airtight as we can get
them. I’ll head to the Denver ATF on Monday to finalize the setup and then I’ll
start calling the others in from all around the country. I’ve already been in
communication with the federal judge who’ll be our boss, he knows the score and
he’s promised us as much freedom from red tape as he can manage so long as we deliver
on all the cases he hands us."
Stern nodded. "Sounds like a man who knows a good deal when he gets one."
Personally he had to wonder if said judge realized just what he was getting into, but the
editor figured the man would either learn quickly or turn up dead someday. "How did
you finagle all seven of you onto one team?"
"Well, Chris is going in as the team leader," JD told him. "Josiah as a
profiler, Nathan a chemist, me and Buck as surveillance experts, Vin as a sharpshooter and
Ezra as an undercover agent. I planted the idea a while ago in the Bureau that they needed
a special team to take down some of the really tough perps, just as a backup for us, but
then…"
"But then you hired Tucker Burns," Vin said in a flat voice. Stern had to wonder
if Tucker had been in any danger from HAS - or if he still was. "And he made
Investigative Team Alpha, which made us…pretty much useless around here."
"Mr. Burns is a very skilled individual," Standish explained; the slight
emphasis on the word ‘skilled’ made the editor think the odd feeling about the
woman in the purple dress he’d seen his star reporter date from time to time had been
accurate - he was glad now he’d never mentioned his suspicions to Tucker or anyone
else. Standish must have picked up on something from his expression, because the
chameleon’s slight smile took on a decidedly wicked twist. "But besides being a
very…talented man, he is also incredibly lucky. Team Alpha has effectively trumped us
on our last three investigations without even realizing they were doing it. They have
rendered HAS obsolete within this organization, as painful as it may be for us to admit
it."
"We don’t really want to leave the Chronicle," Buck added. "But
we really don’t have a choice, and thanks to JD the opportunity for us to do
something else worthwhile was right there for the taking."
"I see." And Stern did; he had never guessed when he hired Tucker just what the
young man would become after a few months adjustment to the weird environment that was the
Chronicle, it was like the reporter had been born to work there. And they
weren’t exaggerating about the man’s incredible luck, either. "Can I still
call on the seven of you if we get one Alpha can’t handle?"
"Shouldn’t be a problem," Chris answered. "Matter of fact, if you can
go through Judge Travis we can even do it officially."
"Yeah, that way no one would get suspicious," JD added happily - of course,
happy was the dog-boy’s normal state of being anyway. "And we’d get paid
for it then, too!"
"We would get paid twice," Ezra corrected. He essayed a cool little smirk at
Nathan’s disapproving growl. "I surely should not need to remind you, Dr.
Jackson, that it can take considerable funds to maintain our personal privacy due to
our…uniqueness as individuals? And the federal government is notorious for
underpaying its employees."
The zombie scowled at him. "It’s the job you’re doin’ that matters,
not the money."
"So speaks the man who does not have to eat," Standish countered.
"I’m not going to bind the mouths of the kine that tread the corn," Stern
interrupted, receiving a smile from Josiah for the quote. "All right then, under the
circumstances…I’ll accept your resignations. But just so you know, if the ATF
thing doesn’t work out you can always come home."
"We appreciate that," Chris answered for everyone, and as one the seven former
members of HAS stood up and left the room.
Stern sat and watched the door until he knew they were all gone…then he took the
seven resignations and dropped them into the wastepaper basket next to his chair; at a
flick of his fingers they burst into flame and were quickly consumed. "Of course,
it’ll be easier for me if you all just stay on the payroll - Tucker’s luck is
bound to run out someday…"