CHARACTER SWAP

Max had been living the high life the last few years. He was semi-retired, living in Mexico near the beach, in a house he was leasing from a 'friend' that was doing time. That kept his buddy in good standing in prison, and let him have a much better place than a foreigner otherwise would.

Thing had been going well until the US economic collapse. Most of his heists had been laundered, and that clean money invested in various companies. The housing bubble, in particular, had helped his finances considerably. Now it had been burst, and his stocks had taken a huge plunge. He had been shaken to the core by this...an almost physical sickness had effected him for about a week.

He pulled out his cell phone as he stood on the beach, wondering who to call. He would need to find work soon...something more than pulling two bit heists. That meant a return to the States, and a life of crime.

With still no calls, he had decided he'd have to go back to New York. He'd tried contacting the Arranger, and some other contacts, but nobody was biting. They knew Max, and knew he wasn't easy to work with, even before the gloves came off. Adrian Toombs, the Vulture, had dropped outta sight. Him and Max had been tight. He missed Toombs. He was kinda like the pervy uncle he'd had as a kid, let him sip his beers, look at dirty magazines.

He had his suitcase packed. Not a lot in it, just his costume and some clean shirts, a second pair of pants. He let it sit, as he called a cab. He'd fly back to the US. But maybe not the Big Apple first. He'd get there in his own sweet time. Out west, wasn't as many heroes to get in the way. He had a while to kill before the cab got there. He touched the socket, and absorbed every volt he could. It made him feel strong, almost euphoric. He definitely got a minor high when absorbed electricity. He walked over to his fridge, and pulled out the six pack of Dos Equis. He drank them, sitting in pleasant silence on the porch, waiting for his cab. Next stop? Houston sounded good...

However, before the plane left for Houston, a text message was sent to Electro's phone. It had no return number, and no name. It read:

Have a job for you. If you are interested, be at the ruins of Tenochtitlan at 1:00 AM on Christmas day. You will be offered a very lucrative job. Come alone.

Electro would have no way of knowing that it was Sandblaster who had sent the text. He would also have know way of knowing that Sandblaster would have Electro's contribution whether he accepted the job or not, one way or the other. Still, Sandblaster hoped to remain civil.

Traveling through Mexico was generally a harrowing experience. But for someone with his powers, it was easy. He had no choice but to go conventionally, using a rented car; he couldn't trust the power lines to stay on so he could ride them there. He stayed a few days in Mexico City, as it was close to Tenochtitlan.

Max showed up at the appointed time, on Christmas. He was wearing his regular clothes still...nobody would know who he was, unless they were able to detect electromagnetic fields. He walked around, looking at the Aztec's capital. Buncha dead people's pyramids to him. He walked to the top of the biggest pyramid, and sat down to wait. He had taken a bottle of water, and sipped on it. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't really warm either. Looking out over the lake, he remembered why he'd picked Mexico for his retirement. Beautiful country. The women. Yeah, they had extradition, but no US superheroes were cleared to operate on Mexican soil, and the Federales didn't really care. So Max kept himself to himself, stayed buzzed, and ran through a string of women.

He really wanted to know who had contacted him, though. Unknown contacts were depressingly common. Nobody wanted to leave a trail, paper, electronic, nothing. Hopefully it would be someone that needed some electrical work done. He laughed, nearly giggled at the thought. If not...wouldn't be the first two bit thug or superhuman groupie he'd electrocuted.

The first sign of Sandblaster's arrival were the sounds of his heavy footsteps in the darkness. Slowly, deliberately, he climbed the steps in full darkness. After several minutes, he was at the top of the pyramid. He had chosen this location because Electro was extremely dangerous to Sandblaster's structure. Here, at least, there wouldn't be much fuel for the electrical mutant's fires, so to speak.

Sandblaster reached to top of he pyramid, staring down at Electro from his twenty-five foot height. His red eyes glowed in the darkness as he spoke in his deep, mechanical voice.

"You are Electro." it wasn't a question. "You may refer to me as your employer, if you are willing to preform kidnappings. I want to pay you American currency for a living mutant. Twelve million dollars per specimen, and no questions are to be asked and you are not to give information of your dealings to anyone. Are these terms acceptable?" Sandblaster asked. For him, that had been a rather long speech.

Of course, if they weren't, Electro would have to be liquidated. Sandblaster couldn't have loose ends running around. Megatron's goals were the important thing.

Max had been lost in thought when he picked up a power spike. Not electrical in nature, but the power source was driving some exotic electricity. The reverberating boom of steady footsteps made him afraid. Some kinda robot? Normally robots weren't a problem, but this power source was radically different. He couldn't quite touch it, let alone control it. Glowing eyes fixed on him, and gained height, as the machine ascended the steps of the pyramid. When it spoke, the voice was deep, resonating in his nasal cavity.


"You are Electro. You may refer to me as your employer, if you are willing to preform kidnappings. I want to pay you American currency for a living mutant. Twelve million dollars per specimen, and no questions are to be asked and you are not to give information of your dealings to anyone. Are these terms acceptable?"


"Uh, yeah, that's me. I'm Electro. And sure, twelve mil for a mutie? Can do. But this whole "no negotiations" Soviet business deal isn't gonna work. I need a mil up front. Is that term acceptable?" How the hell had this thing gotten his cell number?

Sandblaster paused. At least the creature had accepted the offer. Sandblaster didn't want the human in control, but one million up front was no issue. It wasn't as if it was Sandblaster's money anyway. He had stolen one dollar from the bank account of twelve million American humans by hacking their systems. Whatever safeguards they had possessed fell quickly in the face of his advanced Cybertronian computers. He sent a message to his headquarters, ordering the transfer of one million dollars to Electro's account.

"It is done. Will you capture a mutant for me?" Sandblaster asked, waiting. It would seem that the fleshling was willing to cooperate, but the creature's were terribly irrational. Sandblaster hoped they would not need to fight.

Max pulled his cell phone out, and checked his account. Showed a deposit of one million waiting to be credited. "OK, neat trick. I'm impressed. You got my cell number, you managed to find my offshore accounts. You've done your homework, Sandblaster. Any mutie in particular you want me to nab?" Max did his best to sound nonchalant about it all, but deep down, he was scared. He realized the machine could detect his body heat increasing slightly, but didn't know if it knew what the baseline was, or what the increase meant. "And what's the time frame? How soon you need this mutie, anyway? And lemme guess, don't cal you, you'll call me?" Best to keep it on track, strictly business.

Sandblaster almost laughed. Of course he had "done his homework" as the fleshling had said. However, it was slightly disturbing that the creature knew his name. He ad not revealed this, and it would have to be investigated. For now, however, he would play along.

"I would like the mutant as soon as you can get one. Simply call the number 382-872-9987. Call, ask if they want to buy flowers. Then, before they answer, hang up. I will then look for the mutant in a dumpster, alive but bound, on 32nd street in New York City. You will have the exact coordinates shortly." the number wasn't Sandblaster's, just one he had bugged, for this exact purpose.

"Upon my retrieval of the mutant, you will receive your money. Are these terms acceptable?"

"Yeah, sure, the terms are acceptable. But man, you gotta see Terminator 2 or something. People don't talk like that. You aren't exactly gonna pass for human anyway, but still. I'll probably have to head to the States to find a mutie. They're practically tripping over them where I'm from. You cool with that? See, that's how a human says it. Not, 'Is this acceptable?'. Gotta learn the lingo, boss." The machine, not having anything resembling a human face, or even emotions, for all Max knew, maybe didn't care. He decided not to press his luck any further. "Uh, I'll be going now. I can probably catch a flight tomorrow..."

Sandblaster simply stared at the fleshling for a moment or two. He understood human slang, he had read most of the internet. He simply chose not to use it. Then, he spoke in his deep, mechanical voice:

"Excellent. You're flight will be unimpeded and you're ticket will clear without issue. And yes, I am very cool with that, dawg" He said, completely serious. Hopefully, the pathetic human would not fail him. He needed a mutant to study, in order to enact his plan. If he could pull it off, he would have achieved something no human would forget for many hundreds of years...if there were any human left to remember, of course.

Max narrowed his eyes a little at the machine's flippancy. Apparently, it was down with it. He took the hint, though: time to get going. "OK, you're the boss. You say the ticket's good, its good. Can ya call me a cab too, while you're at it? I'm outta cell range." He laughed, hoping it would be able to figure out it was a joke. Who knew what reaction it would have? "OK, so I call you when I got the mutie, and you tell me what dumpster you want it in? And you never said if you had a mutant in mind. Does it have to do anything special? Or just any ol' mutie I can find?"



[exit Electro after he hears the response]

Sandblaster listened carefully to his employee. This may just prove to be most profitable. "You can get your own cab. We want to remain as anonymous as possible. No need for...excessive frivolities. And for now, any mutant will do. I simply need a super human for my own purposes, preferably mutant." Sandblaster said calmly.

With that, he stalked away, leaving the way he had entered. His rumbling footsteps disappeared into the dark night, as he already began to plot his plans. They finally looked as if they may yet come together. Megatron would be proud.

[Exit Sandblaster]