It was shortly after the IMD took down the Angel-1 weapon that the third candidate of the Elite Squad was approached…

Arthit Wang made his way through the night district of Phuket, wearing inauspicious clothing and reeking of alcohol.  When he arrived at the door with the red light, he noticed a large man keeping watch while also pretending not to.

“Hey, how much for two hours?,” Wang slurred drunkedly.

“You don’t talk to me, you talk to the guys inside,” the large man snapped quietly.

“But the girls are young?,” he said at a volume that was a bit too loud for comfort.

“Talk to the guys inside,” he said again in an annoyed, yet quiet voice.

“Yeah, I get it… but how young are they?,” he leaned in, then tripped and fell against the large bouncer who wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible.

“I don’t know,” the man grew impatient and his voice rose.

“Just make a guess. I don’t wanna waste my time.”

“Most are about 12 or 13, I’d say,” he said finally.

“Thank you,” he said clearly as he stood upright.

With that, Wang leapt into a perfectly performed flying knee, landing into the man’s chin with enough force to push him into and through the door.  Once the door was broken down and the the unconscious guard following behind, the men inside jumped to their feet.  “Royal Thai Police.  Stay where you are,” Wang marched inside with authority.

Two of them sprang into action as Wang stood ready. The man closest to the door grabbed a machete and took a swing which Wang ducked under.  While crouched, his leg shot back, taking out the knee of the second attacker.  The man with the machete brought his blade down a second time but Wang reached up, catching it between his palms before flipping it out of his grasp and across the room where it was embedded in the plaster wall.  A quick left cross and a kick to the chest took out the former machete-owner. Meanwhile, the second assailant remained on the floor with a broken knee.  The other men cautiously raised their hands in surrender.  “You men have made one wise decision tonight,” Wang told them, “I hope you make more in the future.”

Some time later, the area swarmed with TRP officers and Wang had removed his dirty shirt; in its place, he wore a neatly pressed uniform.  Young people were escorted out of the building while a police officer waved off a few reporters and nosey bystanders. The perpetrators were shoved into the back of a police van while Wang remained inside the brothel, looking for clues that could potentially link the men to other trafficking networks.

“Another fine investigation,” Wang heard a voice behind him and while the man seemed to speak Thai fluently, there was an inflection in his accent that denoted he wasn’t a native speaker.  When he turned, he saw Director Sean Pierce entering the building.

“Can I help you?,” Wang asked in English, “I can speak some English if you like.”

“It’s been a while since I got to practice my Thai, but if you insist,” Pierce said politely in English, “We spoke on the phone a few months ago, Inspector Wang.”

“Sean Pierce,” he bowed his head respectfully, “I recall our conversation. You want me to join the IMD but I declined. I was impressed to learn your team recently stopped a terrorist attack from the Second Phase but I still do not believe I am a good fit for your organization.”

“I remember but the proposition has changed slightly. I thought I should visit you face-to-face this time as it had a more personal touch.”

“I am very busy, Director.”

“Certainly, you are. As a lieutenant of the Thai Royal Police, you have almost single handily taken down multiple human trafficking rings in your district, as well as assisting Interpol in a number of international investigations that dealt with similar matters.”

“With apologies, I believe we went over this already when you asked me to join your taskforce.”

“I fully understand you can’t be a full-fledged member but what if I offered you a, shall we say, part-time position?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m putting together a reserve team which I dubbed the Elite Squad. The members of this team are given a bit more power than the usual agent with the idea that they come into service at times that require… well, a bit more power. I know human trafficking requires a great deal of attention and you will absolutely continue serving your nation in fighting against it. In fact, with your new abilities, you could be even more effective than you already are. I’ve heard your muay thai skills are some of the best in the world. Imagine what more you could accomplish if you had a bit more muscle behind it.”

“I don’t crave power and my fighting skills assist me in protecting the innocent. I think it is adequate. I do not wish to harm anyone.”

“If you change your mind, you know how to reach me,” Pierce turned to leave, “I left my card on the desk in your office.”

Wang watched him leave, then continued his work. He was willing to assist the IMD but had another calling. His father was a champion muay thai fighter and he was set to follow in his footsteps as he had been training since childhood. He had an elder sister named Malai who, after a fight with her parents about grades, went for a walk one night. Unfortunately, she was kidnapped and trafficked. The police found her years later and she was returned to the family but Wang vowed to ensure no other child would suffer that fate and dedicated himself to becoming an officer in the Royal Police. At present, after a thorough search of the premises, Wang decided to retire to the station for the booking process.

In Lyon, Varkov folded his arms with an air of disappointment as he sized up Bakshi and Hernandez. “You have had months of training,” he told them, “I know being with me for that long is Hell. There is some good news, gentlemen. You may be in Hell but today is the day you get to take on Lucifer.”

“Sorry?,” Bakshi furrowed his brow, “Uh,… sir?”

“Sir, am I to understand you wish for us to engage you in combat?,” Hernandez asked.

“Bozhe moi,” Varkov ran a hand along his bald head, “Perhaps it is I who is in Hell?… Yes, attack me. You will have thirty seconds to come up with a strategy.”

“Sir,” Bakshi fumbled nervously, “I understand you are a metahuman but I can still generate enough heat to… um,… Well, vaporize you, honestly… Sir.”

“Try to beat me without killing me… And your thirty seconds are over,” Varkov slammed the palm of his hand against Bakshi, sending him into the air.

Hernandez utilized his blackhole powers, manipulating the space between him and Anton. The floor and walls seemingly elongated and stretched for several feet despite still being contained within the room. “Ah, I see you’ve finally understood defensive maneuvers,” Varkov said sarcastically. Bakshi stood up and leapt into the spatial warp, then flew in a bright burst of light toward Varkov who flipped Bakshi to the side. With his own momentum used against him, Baskhi ended up hitting the opposite wall. Hernandez warped space again, essentially teleporting to his location. “Long distance attacks,” Anton dodged his punch and struck him in the ribs which dropped him to his knees. Bakshi stood up and charged his fists with stellar energy while staying on the other side of the room. “Ah, now someone fights smart,” Anton said as he watched Bakshi concentrate before releasing a small burst of energy. Varkov dodged out of the way as he came forward, then danced around a few more before closing in on Bakshi and dropping him with a punch to the gut.

“One of you is too afraid to use his powers effectively while the other is too dumb to know how to use his powers effectively. I’ll leave it to the both of you to figure out who is who.”

The next morning in Phuket, Wang made his way down a hall to the detention center. The plan was to interrogate the human traffickers in order to uncover more of their network. When he entered, he found the prisoners huddled in a corner playing cards with their backs to him. The guards, meanwhile, were milling about and doing their best to avoid eye contact. Wang instantly knew things wer enot what they seem.

“I’m here to take the prisoners to Interrogation,” he told a guard.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the guard’s eyes darted around the room, “But I believe there’s been a matter we need to discuss with you.”

Wang noticed some movement behind him, “I’m sure there is.”

A guard rushed behind Wang with a razor and tried to shove it into his throat. Acting fast, he blocked the guard’s forearm but was nicked in the process. The other two guards tried to surround him as another quickly closed the door and locked it. With blood running down his neck and staining his shirt, Wang brought his foot up, delivering a kick that sent the first guard against a nearby desk. Meanwhile, he grabbed the hand at his throat and twisted it, shattering the wrist. Then he spun around, kicking the third assailant to the floor before slamming his palm against the elbow of the knife-attacker, breaking the arm completely. The guard who was knocked against the desk tried to get back up but Wang flew forward with a kick that smashed him back into the desk, nearly breaking it in half.

The remaining guard produced his batons and attacked. Wang dipped around the first swing, then backed up to the metal jail bars as the guard continued his assault. There was another swing but once Wang dodged out of the way, he found his arm getting caught between the bars instead. Wang grabbed the back of his hair and slammed it into the bars before tossing him into the wall. At this point, there were two unconscious guards, one with multiple fractures long his arm and a fourth gradually picking himself up off the floor. Wang spun and kicked the legs out from under him, which dropped him face-first to the floor. Wang sat down on him and grabbed him by the hair, “How much did they pay you?,” he pointed to the prisoners who had stopped playing cards and were doing their best to look innocent. “30,000 baht,” the guard shouted, then Wang shoved his face against the floor which finally rendered him unconscious.

He finally notice the blood stain on his uniform when he stood up and clicked his tongue in annoyance as he felt the flesh wound on his neck. He contemplated the blood on his fingertips silently. He was lucky the knife hadn’t gone any deeper. It wasn’t his first close call but he considered it a meaningful event in light of Pierce’s visit the night before.

The next day, he visited a small Buddhist meditation center to seek guidance, not from a monk which was a more common tradition, but from a nun. This nun was his sister who had devoted her life to Buddhism; while women could not be ordained as monks in Thailand, she was content to be a nun and give guidance to her brother. They walked through the forest, Wang’s strong build a contrast to his much smaller sister who wore a plain brown robe. He wanted to know if he should join the IMD or focus exclusively on his investigations and after explaining the situation, his sister spoke.

“Little Brother, I think you’re asking me this question, not because you don’t know what to do but because you want me to validate your own decision,” she said with a warm smile.

“What do you think my decision is?”

“I can’t tell you but I think your mind is already made up. Remember, there are no signs from the universe that guide us. We make our own decisions and from those decisions, we help others. Could you help others by joining this organization?”

“I think so but I swore an oath to fight against human trafficking.”

“But the Director said it would not interfere with your oath. If you take this position and you learn it does interfere, can’t you leave it behind?”

“Yes, I assume I can leave at any moment.”

“So then your mind is made up.”

“I guess it is. Thanks, Sister.”

They smiled and bowed to one another.