Chapter 4: The Hudsons

"John, you can't possibly be considering doing this?", Ray spoke up, from his seat. John watched the cars go on the street below his window, and turned to stare at Ray with one cloudy right eye. He walked around the glass wall, and kept his wrinkled palm on the window that led to the training centre. John finally found his fingers hitting the seams of the window, and walked to his swivel chair.

Only did he sit down, that John opened his mouth, "Ray, he is my brother."

"Yes, that is the problem, isn't it? You have a personal involvement in this matter. It would be unprofessional. Hear me out, please, John. Let someone else go to James first."

"I find it downright sad that you do not find me unable to control my feelings on this matter."

"I am doing no such injustice to you, John. But you cannot be the first to interrogate him. I will let you go to him after a while."

John sighed, and stood up again, "Do you want some coffee?"

"A water would be fine."

John walked to Ray's side of the table, settling himself an inch or two on the right of Ray, facing what the window led to, "Raymond, do you remember when we trained in this building? James would always be rough in play."

"I remember being there to sew my wife up when he pierced her shoulder. I remember that you did nothing to chastise him then. You know you are seeing him as your innocent little brother, when he clearly isn't."

"I never saw him as innocent. Anyone who kills five men at ten is not innocent by any definition."

"Then why are you playing devil's advocate?"

"What gave you that idea? I am no devil's advocate." John picked up his telephone, and dialled his secretary, "Ms Winter, could you get us two coffees, please?" Ray tried to object, but John had already kept the phone down. Hudson had seen Ray's slight objection, and spoke in turn, "You need some caffeine in your system, Ray. Do you know, nowadays some shops sell hundreds of variations of coffee? I wonder, how much can you change one drink?"

"No amount of words on caffeine will get me to change my mind, John."

"I am not trying to change your mind. I completely agree. It would be wildly unprofessional of me to be the first to confront my wayward brother. We will find someone else."

"About that someone else, I have a few recommendations."

Before replying, John raised one finger, stopping Ray in his tracks, "Good Ms Winter is here with our beverages." John walked to the door, and opened it to find Darla standing there with their tray of drinks. Ray was almost surprised with the accuracy John had predicted when his drinks would arrive. John walked back, tray in hand, and kept the porcelain down on the table next to his bathroom door. He took the coffees in his hands, and set one down in front of Ray. He sat down on his own chair, and took a sip from his hot mug. When John set it back down on the table, he first made sure to find a coaster in his gun drawer. He spoke, with the aroma of coffee in his breath, "Ray, how is young Michael's mission going?"

Ray took a sip himself, then felt the heat of the drink on the back of his throat. He kept the glass down on another coaster that John had kept out for him. He spoke, the heat of the beverage still on his tongue, "Mike is working well enough, sir." Ray didn't find it in himself to complain to John about Mike's drunkenness.

That caution was misplaced, in this case, as John spoke, "I do not call being hungover just before a mission 'well enough', Ray. I know, and it is sad that you thought I wouldn't know."

"I was doing no such thing. I didn't think it was....."

"Ah, you didn't think it was important. Remember that, would you, when we find Mr Hunter's lifeless body in a warehouse? I am sure it wouldn't be important then."

"The mission should be easy, sir. Most of our enemies related to this case are old men in suits, unable to hold their own."

"Ay, aren't we old men in suits? At least I am, you are an old man in a sweater. Yet we find ourselves with monsters like young Michael on our side. The thing about old men in suits, Mr Williams, is that they can afford bodyguards."

"And we can afford to pay off said bodyguards. Or afford to train our 'monsters' to kill our enemies."

"I suppose we can, Mr Williams. I suppose we can. The problem with that, as I see it, is that we are running low on government funding. The military aren't willing to pay men who, in their own words, 'cohort with a tyrant, such as the monster that is James Richard Hudson, a known terrorist, and a threat to our peaceful society'."

"I am sure we have the money to function without military funding. And truly, they call this life 'peaceful'? Seems the furthest thing from the truth."

"I know. It is the furthest thing, but I am trying my best to promote peace. It is imperative to the next generation of our organization, that we keep good relations with the damned military. It is unfortunate, that all James thinks of is killing every soldier ever made."

"Every soldier who isn't gifted, to be precise. He wants hell to fall upon only my kind."

"Ay, unfortunate." John reclined on his seat, and swivelled to face the window, with his back to Ray. He spoke, to no one in particular, "What happened to that sweet boy who just wanted to make life better for everyone?"

"He died, a couple decades ago. James buried that side of him. Now, all that decorates his mind is the betterment of the gifted men and women of the world. Whichever god made the gifted, must be rolling in their grave, seeing such an altruistic asshole."

"A folly, to call James altruistic. He sees this not only as 'betterment of the gifted species'. He wouldn't support the movement, if he wouldn't end up the leader. And I must say, I didn't expect you despising James so much. Nate has not yet gotten his gift, I hear."

"I rather hope that it stays that way. Elle has got it into her head, that James is right in this matter. How a person can get pierced in shoulder by someone's literal horn, and still adore that person, I could not tell."

"Your wife was always smitten with James, almost to an unhealthy degree. It's good, at least for you, that James was never interested in her."

"I sometimes wonder if that was good. She screams in my ear, to support James. The only reason I ever appreciated this was due to Nathaniel's existence."

"I truly am sorry, for bringing this to be. I just thought Elle needed someone so that she could forget James. We all knew her pursuit would always end in failure, but somehow she never saw it the same way."

"Yup, unfortunate."

"I remember when James had first come to my father with his preferences. I was quite sure my father would have got a heart attack then. I has known for a while already, so it didn't faze me. It was only because of me, that my father finally accepted James back into the family."

"I know. You have told me that story before. Countless times."

"Have I. You may see it as the inane ramblings of an old man in a suit."

"You are my friend, John. And as your friend, I can see when you're possessing the wish to convince yourself that the boy you helped is still somewhere in James. You have to stop."

"I know, I know." John continued looking out the window, from his chair. When his face turned a bit towards Ray, Ray saw a single tear fall down the director's cheek. Ray had known both Hudson brothers for a long time. John was always distant. He had been raised to lead SCOPE, and had been taught that he was only born to lead. While lesser men would have seen that and grown proud and self-centred, John had tried his best his whole life to compromise. Ray had seen the director struggle with accommodating with the organization that had killed his mother. But John continued working with the government, as he saw peace as the only path to growth.

The polar opposite was James. Some men are born dangerous, others are made dangerous. With James, that line was blurred. Ray had come to know James long after his mother had died, and John always said that that incident had changed James irreparably. John always reasoned that James had been a normal kid before that incident, but Ray often doubted that. Danger-free men wouldn't kill five men at ten years of age. Where people like Ray would hide in that situation, being submissive and weak, James always resorted to violence. The incident had of course changed him, but Ray had the thought that James was born dangerous. Ray spoke up, drinking the final sip of his coffee, "What happened in the last mission?"

"That story is better left unknown."

"I am your friend, and I am James' friend. That mission obviously changed James. I need to know."

"You 'need' nothing. If you must know, James' boyfriend died in that mission."

"And Michael's parents? What happened to them?"

"That is not for you to know."

"The kid is obviously fixating in what happened to his parents. I am just trying to understand why you are withholding this information."

"The information is not for your ears, Ray."

Ray sighed, and set down his finished glass. He gave one final try to find out something about that damned mission, "And what happened to Kraus? I have not seen him since then."

"Victor died. I find it ironic. People had always said that he couldn't die, that the vampire cannot die. Men fail to see that vampires bleed same as humans."

"I take it you were never close to Victor?"

"No one was close to Victor. The 'vampire' never let that happen. You could see it in his eyes, he always thought of us as below him."

"Nonetheless, how did the vampire die?"

"A horn in his chest. James had gone crazy, once Noah had died. He made sure to dish out his own kind of vigilante justice, bereaved that he was. Some men would fall and cry. James would first get vengeance, and only then let himself cry." John sighed, signifying that he was done talking on this topic. He stood up from his chair, and walked to the window, putting his hand on the glass. He clenched his fist, and punched the glass, in some blind rage. Ray stood up, and ran to John, to help him out.

"What in the world were you thinking, sir?"

"I was just checking."

"Checking what?"

"Whether I still have the strength to lead." John looked to the unaffected glass, and then to his bleeding, wrinkled knuckles, "Seems that I am not. What was I thinking? A man who can't cull his own brother's evil, that is a ineffective leader."

"You are the best leader SCOPE could have ever even hoped for. People see you as inspiration, sir. Children see you as a role model. And every single agent in our organization respects you as their leader."

"Do I deserve all of that adoration? I am a weak man now. I was always a weak man."

"You are deserving of it, John. Peace wouldn't even be a possibility, if not for you."

John looked out the window, to the training centre, "I suppose you are right. Very well, let someone else deal with James."

"Who, sir?"

John thought on the matter for a few seconds, then spoke, "Frank Murphy." John's voice was resolute, however shit the choice. Ray knew he could do nothing to change the decision, even if he despised it. Vendettas are not professional, in any way possible, but he had no power here. He walked out of the room, when he heard the siren of the transport vehicle, bringing Bullseye in manacles.