The server farm's repurposed command center hummed with activity as Marcus studied the intel displays. One week of enforced power restriction had taught him to rely on more traditional analytical methods. The neural dampers Sarah had developed kept his abilities dormant but stable – a fact his team enforced with ruthless efficiency.
"Facial recognition got a hit," Bobby announced from his workstation. "That private military group that hit us? Just identified their financial backers."
The main screen filled with corporate documents and surveillance photos. Marcus leaned forward, careful not to trigger his dormant enhancements.
"Nexus Pharmaceutical," Maya read, appearing at his shoulder. "Major player in vaccine development. They've been quietly buying up smaller research firms for the past year."
"And stockpiling medical supplies," Doc added, examining the shipping manifests Bobby had intercepted. "Similar pattern to Cross's operations, but larger scale."
Sarah looked up from her analysis station. "They're preparing for the outbreak. But these acquisition patterns... they're not just preparing. They're positioning to profit from it."
"They know it's coming," Marcus concluded. "Question is, how?"
Morgan's voice carried from the lab area. "Because they helped engineer it."
All eyes turned to the scientist as she emerged with a tablet full of data. Her hands shook slightly, but her voice remained steady.
"I've been analyzing their research patterns. The viral markers in their recent patents... they match components of what we contained at the CDC. Not the complete structure, but enough to prove they're involved."
Maya's expression hardened. "They're not trying to prevent the outbreak. They're trying to control it."
"Create the problem and sell the solution," Doc growled. "Classic disaster capitalism with a body count."
Marcus absorbed this through trained analytical instincts. Without his enhanced capabilities, he had to rely on years of military intelligence experience.
"Bobby, how deep does their security go?"
"Three layers." Their scout pulled up building schematics. "Outer perimeter is standard corporate. Inner rings get serious – ex-military contractors, biometric locks, kill zones. But..." He grinned. "Their ventilation system is surprisingly parkour-friendly."
"No." Maya's tone left no room for argument. "You're still under neural restriction. We do this clean, by the book."
"The book went out the window when they tried to weaponize an apocalypse," Marcus countered. "But you're right about doing it clean. Bobby, how long to get a full facility layout?"
"Already have it. Their network security is good, but they weren't expecting someone to access their maintenance systems from the actual maintenance tunnels."
Doc raised an eyebrow. "When did you—"
"Tuesday. That 'supply run' took a slight detour." Bobby's grin widened. "What? Maya said get creative with non-powered solutions."
Marcus felt a familiar pride in his team's initiative. "Sarah, what would you need to prove their involvement?"
"Access to their main research database. Specifically, their viral development servers." She shared a look with Morgan. "We can demonstrate the connection between their work and the outbreak strain."
"And expose them before they can release it," Morgan added. "Prevent the apocalypse by revealing who's really behind it."
Maya studied the facility layout. "Heavy security on the server rooms. Even with Bobby's access, getting in and out without detection—"
"Who said anything about avoiding detection?" Marcus smiled. "Sometimes the best way to handle a conspiracy is to drag it into the light."
The team gathered around the tactical display as he outlined his plan. No enhanced abilities needed – just solid intelligence work and precise execution.
"We go in officially," he explained. "Front door, broad daylight. Bobby's already compromised their security systems. Maya, your SWAT credentials are still active. Doc, you've got medical authority. Sarah and Morgan can pass as research consultants."
"And you?" Maya's eyes narrowed.
"I'll be your prisoner." He held up a hand to forestall objections. "Think about it. They know my powers are damaged. What better way to study the enhancement process than to bring in a live subject?"
"That's insane," Doc protested. "The neural risks alone—"
"Are minimal because I won't be using any abilities. Just letting them think they've finally caught me." Marcus turned to Sarah. "How long to copy their database?"
"Four minutes with direct server access. Another two for verification."
"Bobby, how many security checkpoints between entrance and target?"
"Three major ones. But I can loop their cameras and spoof their biometrics. They'll see exactly what we want them to see."
Maya studied the plan through professional eyes. "Simple infiltration, complex execution. Multiple failure points."
"But no reliance on powers," Marcus pointed out. "Just solid teamwork and preparation. The kind of operation we've trained for."
The room fell silent as his people considered the risks. Finally, Maya spoke for them all.
"When do we move?"
"Tomorrow morning. Their CEO is hosting a research presentation – perfect cover for visiting consultants." Marcus met each team member's gaze. "This isn't just about stopping one corporation. We prove their involvement, we might unravel the whole conspiracy before the outbreak can start."
"Save the world without superpowers," Bobby mused. "That's definitely going to look good on the resume."
The next hours were a blur of preparation. Bobby fine-tuned his system access. Sarah and Morgan prepared their cover identities. Doc assembled a medical transport that could pass inspection.
Standing in the command center that night, watching his team work, Marcus felt something he hadn't experienced since awakening in the past: pure certainty. They could do this. Not because of enhanced abilities or future knowledge, but because they'd become something more than a collection of specialists.
They'd become a family.
"Getting philosophical in your old age?" Maya appeared beside him, offering coffee.
"Just appreciating the view." He accepted the cup. "You know this could all go wrong."
"Could." She smiled. "But I've got a good feeling about tomorrow."
Marcus returned the smile, feeling the weight of command balanced by absolute trust in his team. Tomorrow they'd strike their first real blow against the coming apocalypse.
And they'd do it together.