The Boys - Chapter 159: We Can Negotiate (Patreon)

As the car pulled away from the federal prison, MM floored it.

Hughie sat in the passenger seat with his head against the window. His breath fogged the glass as the trees outside blurred past. He didn't feel like saying a word.

MM stayed quiet too. They drove in silence for more than twenty minutes, until they reached an elevated highway in the Bronx. Finally, MM couldn't hold it in anymore.

"What do you think about Edgar's terms?"

"I don't know."

MM turned the wheel and merged into the right lane. He pressed his lips together for a couple of seconds before continuing.

"Forget Zoe for a second. If the Godolkin Virus is real, it changes everything. You get that, right?"

Of course Hughie understood.

A virus capable of killing Supes. The idea alone was insane. If it really existed, if they could actually synthesize it, then Damien, Homelander, Soldier Boy, everyone in the Arke Seven. None of them would be invincible anymore.

But what would it cost?

Let an old man who treated his adopted daughter like a pawn walk out of prison, then hand a little girl over to him?

"Let's go back and talk to Mallory first."

Hughie opened his eyes and stared at the gray horizon ahead.

"This isn't something the two of us can decide."

When they pushed open the steel door to the safe house, Mallory was sitting at the dining table going through a file. Sage sat across from her, typing away at her computer.

They both looked up.

MM tossed his car keys onto the shoe rack, strode over to the table, and sat down. He folded his hands on the tabletop, his voice grim.

"Edgar gave us two conditions. First, he gets out of prison. Second, he wants Neuman's daughter, Zoe."

Mallory froze, the page in her hand suspended in midair as her gaze sharpened.

"Zoe?"

"Yeah. He wants to use Zoe as leverage against Neuman. His exact word was 'use,' not 'hurt,' but who the fuck knows?"

MM repeated Edgar's words exactly, without adding or leaving out a single thing.

Mallory was silent for a long time afterward.

Of course she knew about the Godolkin Virus. It was something those Soviet lunatics had developed during the Cold War, specifically designed to target the genetic structure created by Compound V.

She'd seen the relevant files back when she was with the CIA. At the time, though, the virus had still been confined to the laboratory and had never actually been deployed.

If it could really be synthesized...

Mallory set the file back on the table. Her fingers tapped unconsciously against the surface as she stared at some invisible point in front of her.

"Getting Edgar out isn't necessarily off the table. But using a child as part of the deal? We can't do that."

MM nodded. He felt the same way.

"But we need that virus."

Mallory looked up at Sage. She had been sitting quietly behind her computer, her fingers resting motionless beside the keyboard.

"What do you think?"

Sage pushed up her glasses, her voice flat.

"The Godolkin Virus takes priority over everything else. Edgar's personal demands can wait. First, we confirm whether the virus is real and whether it can actually be produced."

"As for Zoe, we could take control of her first. That would give us a card we could play whenever necessary."

Mallory stared at her for two seconds without responding.

She understood Sage's reasoning. Cold, rational, completely detached from emotion.

But Mallory had lost her own grandchildren to Supes. She knew better than most what it meant to drag a child into something like this.

"I'll push the virus angle. We'll negotiate with Edgar again and take Zoe off the table. We deal strictly with getting him out and Sameer's location."

Mallory stood, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"I can't promise it'll work, but we're not crossing that line."

MM and Hughie exchanged a glance. Neither said anything else.

After leaving the safe house, Hughie didn't go with MM.

He stood on the corner for a few seconds, hesitating, then pulled out his phone and looked at the message the hospital had sent him earlier.

Father. End-stage liver cirrhosis. Vegetative state.

He took a deep breath and hailed a cab.

"St. John's Hospital in Queens."

Forty minutes later, Hughie stood outside the hospital room.

The hallway reeked of disinfectant, and the fluorescent lights were painfully bright. A nurse pushed a medication cart past him, its wheels squeaking over the tile floor.

He opened the door.

The room was small. A single bed sat beside the window, the curtains drawn, leaving the room dim. Only the bedside cardiac monitor gave off a faint green glow.

His father lay in the bed, reduced to skin and bone.

His cheeks were deeply sunken, his skin waxy and yellow, his lips cracked. An oxygen tube ran beneath his nose, and an IV catheter was taped to the back of his hand. Clear tubing ran down from the IV bag, fluid dripping steadily one drop at a time.

His eyes were closed.

He didn't move.

Hughie sat beside the bed. The chair legs scraped loudly across the floor, but he didn't care.

He stared at his father's face for a long time.

Then Hughie spoke, his voice hoarse.

"I'm here. Sorry it took me so long. Things out there... there's been a lot going on."

The green line on the monitor continued its steady rhythm.

No response.

Hughie lowered his head and rubbed his hands together. His palms were slick with sweat.

"Butcher's dead too. Damien killed him. That Chinese guy from the news. He turned into a water giant hundreds of meters tall and cut Butcher in half with one strike."

"I saw it happen."

Hughie reached out without thinking and wrapped his hand around his father's gaunt fingers.

They were cold and completely limp.

"I'm running The Boys now, Dad. Can you believe that? Me, leading the team. Butcher would laugh his ass off if he knew."

He gave a short laugh, but there was nothing happy in it.

"I'm so fucking tired. Every day, I have to make choices, and every one of them could get somebody killed. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing."

"Today, somebody asked me to trade a little girl's safety for a weapon that can kill Supes. I said no, but I don't even know if that was the right call."

"If we had that weapon, maybe we could end all of this. Maybe nobody else would have to die like Robin did."

"But I can't do it, Dad. I can't put a kid in danger."

Hughie's voice finally broke.

He lowered his forehead onto the back of his father's hand, his shoulders trembling.

"I wish you'd just wake up and say something. Tell me what I'm supposed to do. Hell, you could yell at me. I'd take that."

The green waveform on the monitor continued its steady pulse.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

No answer.

Maybe there never would be one.

Hughie stayed by the bed for a long, long time, until the sky outside had gone completely dark and the footsteps in the hallway had grown few and far between.