Chapter Text
Many of Vought’s heroes had faded into obscurity without a trace at one time or another.
Some because they had simply never caught the eye of the public. Some because the public’s adoration had faded when something new and more exciting came along. But it was rare for one to burn twice as bright as all the rest and burn out twice as fast the way that The Homelander did.
A hero of his caliber was something once in a lifetime, like Soldier Boy before him. It felt wrong for someone like that to be taken out of the game just like that.
Perhaps that’s why people theorized that he was still alive. That he wasn’t killed in an explosion at the nuclear power plant during his first mission the way that Vought claimed. But William Butcher was in the camp of people that believed either way.
An indestructible man taken out by a terrorist bomb? Not likely.
If him and his boys were going to take down Vought, a weapon like The Homelander was something that needed to be in his inventory and not theirs, and he knew that the vultures would also be searching for their lost product. He was too expensive to lose. Too in the know about what they had done to be free from their control.
But they hadn’t managed to find him either. And Butcher had a lead.
And, after he saw on the news that a supe had run through the girlfriend of a guy working at Bryman Audio and Visual, he had an opening on top of that lead. A man on the inside, if he could convince him.
Hughie Campbell, luckily for him, was one of the easiest to convince men in the world. It wasn’t hard to help him rationalize spying on a coworker.
John was a seemingly average manager at Bryman’s. According to the lad, he was a typical asshole supervisor type. Though he had the same attitude towards everyone. Customers, employees, he acted like he was above them all.
Sounded right in character for one of those supe cunts. Though it could be applied to any miserable asshole who got an ego boost from even the smallest amount of power over other people.
Hence his need to have an inside man to get close to him and see if there was more to him.
“If he slips up even once, you tell us, alright lad?” Butcher murmured, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the target move through the shop across the street through the monitors he’d set up in the back of the van. “You want revenge, he’s your ticket.”
The other man nodded, practically shaking with excitement like a kid on a sugar high. Or Terror when Butcher brought him his favorite toy.
“Okay. Yeah. I can do this.”
“Just act normal. And don’t push if you think it’s going to make him try to run away or kill you,” Becca chimed in from beside him, adjusting her coat as she did. “If he is who we think he is, he might do anything to keep you from telling anyone what he is.”
Hughie nodded, then murmured,” If he is who you think he is, can’t he hear us?”
“This ain’t our first rodeo, lad. Van’s so sound-proofed we could be having a bloody orgy in here and the cunt wouldn’t hear us,” Butcher snorted.
This seemed to satisfy Hughie, who slipped out of the van and half-jogged across the street to the shop.
He turned to Becca, a little grin on his face that had her knocking her shoulder into his.
“Don’t you start.”
“We’ll be here for hours.”
“Hours we should be spending watching the cameras.”
The cameras were Becca’s idea in the first place. She was the one between them that made sure to prepare for anything, and while he had to admit that it had gotten them out of a couple sticky situations in the past, most of the time it was overkill.
Her suggestion for this mission was cameras anywhere Hughie couldn’t be their eyes and ears. John’s apartment. The alley behind the store, where the boss occasionally went out to smoke. The back room of the store, in case he was ever there without Hughie.
“I’m sure he can handle himself just fine for the first half hour, love.”
“He’s new to this,” she reminded him, though she didn’t stop him from putting his hand on her thigh.
“Small talk ain’t rocket science.”
She pretended to consider for a moment before leaning in to kiss him.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Sounds alright to me, love.”