Ack
(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2014
- Messages
- 7,270
Lung's plan was to draw Taylor in, then overwhelm her with fire and strength.
She knew what his strengths and basic strategy were, and she prepared for it.
-
An addendum to Rule 3 regarding fan-translated works of things such as Web Novels has been made. Please see here for details.
-
We've issued a clarification on our policy on AI-generated work.
-
Our mod selection process has completed. Please welcome our new moderators.
-
Due to issues with external spam filters, QQ is currently unable to send any mail to Microsoft E-mail addresses. This includes any account at live.com, hotmail.com or msn.com. Signing up to the forum with one of these addresses will result in your verification E-mail never arriving. For best results, please use a different E-mail provider for your QQ address.
-
The rules regarding NSFW links have been updated. See here for details.
The Slippery Slope [Worm AU]
- Thread starter Ack
- Start date
She knew what his strengths and basic strategy were, and she prepared for it.
Jade Isentry
Unshakable
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2016
- Messages
- 262
In other words, his plan didn't survive contact with the enemy. Hers did. Hence, the result.
Ack
(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2014
- Messages
- 7,270
Exactly and precisely.
That's the downside of fighting a Tinker-adjacent character. When they fight you a second time, they've adjusted their tech and strategies to beat you.
Neko Tamo
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Jan 13, 2021
- Messages
- 406
Nooo, not Othala you bastard! Why not kill Hookwolf or similar for your damn drama needs 
She was such a creampuff, now I'm sad. And I wasn't over Jenna and Bronson yet either.
Okay let me back up a bit.
So as I said on the voting thread, new fan here
And quite the fan I have become since this is just such a good story. I have a lot to say but I'll keep it (relatively ) brief but if you are the kind of author who feeds on comments let me know and I'll say more
First off what I like the most is that you make the motivations and reasoning of the E88 people realistic and human rather than some cheap strawman as you easily could have. But then this would have been a far inferior story, since ofc real people don't work like that and the story would not map to real life or teach anything. There are many reasons to have racist beliefs and many ways people get there. Many like Taylor fall into it because of people around them, because we all want friends and to belong. Or you see negative examples of certain races and then you generalize it, Sophia being a perfect example, I like how robo!Taylor tore into her about that. And it's all a positive feedback loop right? The more racial strife there is the more seeming hate crimes are committed by all sides which radicalizes more people... It is not weird at all Brockton Bay is rife with it when you have the racially motivated gangs going at it, it is hard to imagine an environment more conducive to racialist thinking. Or take Peter, he is a great kid, brave, diligent, honest but he grew up in that world and so that is where his loyalties lie. And more than even that everyone's a hero in their own story, everyone thinks they are fighting for the right thing. You'd probably be hard pressed to find a single person who truly believes they're bad in the whole world.
Obviously it's a complex issue with deep and enduring roots or we would not be dealing with it still. In fact I think racism is an issue you can never fully deal with in multiracial societies, people are inherently tribal and will always seek ways to divide each other and then dick over the "other" for personal gain, especially when the going gets tough. Best you can do is keep it mitigated, and with effort at that.
And you explore these themes well enough, which is why this story is so engaging. And I hope you keep it that way, honestly Taylor going all "oh no I was totally wrong" and doing a 180 would be boring. My personal hope for the story is that Taylor sees the hypocrisy and rot at the heart of the Empire and takes over, moderating the organization in the process. Maybe into some kind of apartheid stance? Other races have their place and can stick around as long as they know who is boss. That is obv. far from ideal but the Wormverse is such a shithole that if she can bring peace and order to the city it might be better than the status quo, even to the minorities.
Anyway looking forward to see how you play it.
And it makes sense too, if you buy into the idea that it was Kaiser who killed his own sister so as to not share power and because she was too bloodthirsty. And ofc Taylor is deeply in love with said woman's son (I am a bit pissed you made him incapable of triggering, it was set up so well, but I guess you are probably snickering how you had us all going I even had the scene in my mind you know ). It's obvious how finding that truth could lead to an instant blow up and a hostile takeover. And it's hardly the only issue that could, the E88 does a lot of shitty stuff even to it's own as seen in the conversation Kaiser and Krieg had about Taylor's dad. Though Kaiser actually came off better in that conversation than I expected. Given that he genuinely cared for the feelings of his nephew, and even Taylor herself. There are a lot of skeletons she might want to take out of the closet, but again we will see how it shakes out.
If I had one "complaint" it would be that your work is too detailed. I say this to a lot of fanfic writers though you seem more dedicated that most. Obviously more detail is good and tends to make for a better story but my fear is that if the work becomes too big it is more likely to be abandoned or at least without an end in any reasonable timeframe. Simply put this is a hobby for you I imagine, and there is only so much free time that can be put towards it. Better to have a "zoomed" out perspective and allow events to happen in the background than never actually see those events play out because you are approaching this like a book instead of a fanfic. Consider that the vast majority of chapters in this story happened in less than a month of in-universe time. How many chapters will it take to reach the end then, you know?
OTOH, the Merchants are out of action at best and the ABB decapitated which leaves the E88 virtually unchecked and poised to take over the city. So things may develop very quickly. Potentially right to the very end, depending when and how you mean to close out this story.
It will be interesting to see, it's a massive and sudden power vacuum. With only Coil in their way and he is not one for direct confrontation anyway. Leaving the local "heroes" in quite the predicament, it is not out of the question that the greater Protectorate gets called in to stop the E88 from taking the city, maybe even the Triumvirate. Fun times.
Last thing I want to mention was something I only noticed near the end when you blatantly hinted at it, ofc provided it wasn't another misdirection Namely how Sophia feels something ancient and inhuman stares at her out of Taylor's eyes. That something clearly being Queen Administrator, which would mean robo!Taylor is very closely or even directly interfacing with her shard. This explains her great power and even more so why she is so quick thinking and rational, as well as why she is machine-like to begin with. Seems kind of obvious in hindsight but well done all the same, it's a clever twist.
Aaand now you see what my standards are for a relatively short review As I said before I have more to say but that can wait for another time or for you to ask for it
That's about it, great fanfic and I can't wait for more!
PS. You should also stop putting "trigger warnings" and constantly reminding people that just because you write about something doesn't mean you believe it. Smart people already understand and people who are just looking to be outraged about something will likewise be outraged anyway.
She was such a creampuff, now I'm sad. And I wasn't over Jenna and Bronson yet either.Okay let me back up a bit.
So as I said on the voting thread, new fan here
And quite the fan I have become since this is just such a good story. I have a lot to say but I'll keep it (relatively
) brief but if you are the kind of author who feeds on comments let me know and I'll say more First off what I like the most is that you make the motivations and reasoning of the E88 people realistic and human rather than some cheap strawman as you easily could have. But then this would have been a far inferior story, since ofc real people don't work like that and the story would not map to real life or teach anything. There are many reasons to have racist beliefs and many ways people get there. Many like Taylor fall into it because of people around them, because we all want friends and to belong. Or you see negative examples of certain races and then you generalize it, Sophia being a perfect example, I like how robo!Taylor tore into her about that. And it's all a positive feedback loop right? The more racial strife there is the more seeming hate crimes are committed by all sides which radicalizes more people... It is not weird at all Brockton Bay is rife with it when you have the racially motivated gangs going at it, it is hard to imagine an environment more conducive to racialist thinking. Or take Peter, he is a great kid, brave, diligent, honest but he grew up in that world and so that is where his loyalties lie. And more than even that everyone's a hero in their own story, everyone thinks they are fighting for the right thing. You'd probably be hard pressed to find a single person who truly believes they're bad in the whole world.
Obviously it's a complex issue with deep and enduring roots or we would not be dealing with it still. In fact I think racism is an issue you can never fully deal with in multiracial societies, people are inherently tribal and will always seek ways to divide each other and then dick over the "other" for personal gain, especially when the going gets tough. Best you can do is keep it mitigated, and with effort at that.
And you explore these themes well enough, which is why this story is so engaging. And I hope you keep it that way, honestly Taylor going all "oh no I was totally wrong" and doing a 180 would be boring. My personal hope for the story is that Taylor sees the hypocrisy and rot at the heart of the Empire and takes over, moderating the organization in the process. Maybe into some kind of apartheid stance? Other races have their place and can stick around as long as they know who is boss. That is obv. far from ideal but the Wormverse is such a shithole that if she can bring peace and order to the city it might be better than the status quo, even to the minorities.
Anyway looking forward to see how you play it.
And it makes sense too, if you buy into the idea that it was Kaiser who killed his own sister so as to not share power and because she was too bloodthirsty. And ofc Taylor is deeply in love with said woman's son (I am a bit pissed you made him incapable of triggering, it was set up so well, but I guess you are probably snickering how you had us all going
I even had the scene in my mind you know ). It's obvious how finding that truth could lead to an instant blow up and a hostile takeover. And it's hardly the only issue that could, the E88 does a lot of shitty stuff even to it's own as seen in the conversation Kaiser and Krieg had about Taylor's dad. Though Kaiser actually came off better in that conversation than I expected. Given that he genuinely cared for the feelings of his nephew, and even Taylor herself. There are a lot of skeletons she might want to take out of the closet, but again we will see how it shakes out.If I had one "complaint" it would be that your work is too detailed. I say this to a lot of fanfic writers though you seem more dedicated that most. Obviously more detail is good and tends to make for a better story but my fear is that if the work becomes too big it is more likely to be abandoned or at least without an end in any reasonable timeframe. Simply put this is a hobby for you I imagine, and there is only so much free time that can be put towards it. Better to have a "zoomed" out perspective and allow events to happen in the background than never actually see those events play out because you are approaching this like a book instead of a fanfic. Consider that the vast majority of chapters in this story happened in less than a month of in-universe time. How many chapters will it take to reach the end then, you know?
OTOH, the Merchants are out of action at best and the ABB decapitated which leaves the E88 virtually unchecked and poised to take over the city. So things may develop very quickly. Potentially right to the very end, depending when and how you mean to close out this story.
It will be interesting to see, it's a massive and sudden power vacuum. With only Coil in their way and he is not one for direct confrontation anyway. Leaving the local "heroes" in quite the predicament, it is not out of the question that the greater Protectorate gets called in to stop the E88 from taking the city, maybe even the Triumvirate. Fun times.
Last thing I want to mention was something I only noticed near the end when you blatantly hinted at it, ofc provided it wasn't another misdirection
Namely how Sophia feels something ancient and inhuman stares at her out of Taylor's eyes. That something clearly being Queen Administrator, which would mean robo!Taylor is very closely or even directly interfacing with her shard. This explains her great power and even more so why she is so quick thinking and rational, as well as why she is machine-like to begin with. Seems kind of obvious in hindsight but well done all the same, it's a clever twist.Aaand now you see what my standards are for a relatively short review
As I said before I have more to say but that can wait for another time or for you to ask for it That's about it, great fanfic and I can't wait for more!
PS. You should also stop putting "trigger warnings" and constantly reminding people that just because you write about something doesn't mean you believe it. Smart people already understand and people who are just looking to be outraged about something will likewise be outraged anyway.
Ack
(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2014
- Messages
- 7,270
Thank you very much for your in-depth analysis. it's greatly appreciated.
(I love comments. Comments are how I know people are actually reading and thinking about what I'm saying).
We're getting toward if not the endgame, then the leadup to the endgame of the fic. It's definitely going to go in directions, mwahahaha.
Part Twenty-Six: Preparations for Retribution
Ack
(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2014
- Messages
- 7,270
The Slippery Slope
Part Twenty-Six: Preparations for Retribution
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[A/N 2: Reminder for the reader that Taylor is a member of the Empire Eighty-Eight in this fic, and may express racist views that the author does not share.]
Sunday Morning, February 20, 2011
Medhall Sub-Basement
Remote
Unlock cell door.
Open cell door.
I walked into the cell, holding the tray of food. It was thoroughly bland fare, but would allow a teenage girl to survive indefinitely without suffering significant nutritional deficiencies, including the ongoing requirements of a growing body. I wasn't a sadist, after all; indeed, when I was expressing my powers, I was incapable of the impulse.
Close cell door. Secure cell door.
Sophia looked up at me as the lock clicked shut. "The fuck you want this time? Here to gloat again?"
Analysis of expression and tone: Frustrated anger. No change.
Conclusion: Still harbours hatred and hostility. Is trying to forget the fact that she is the agent of her own downfall.
Despite this, she did not try to attack me. There had been exactly one attempt at that, on the previous night, whereupon I had demonstrated my control over the manual switch located in the next room over; specifically, the switch that sent a high-voltage, low-amperage current through her ankle cuff to two electrodes placed against her bare skin. It seemed that where platitudes and pleas had trouble gaining her attention, a short sharp shock got through with zero problems at all.
If the PRT had understood that from the start, things may have turned out very differently indeed.
"I do not gloat." I placed the food bowl and the water container on the shelf that had been provided for it, and took up the old ones. "It is a pointless activity. You are being kept incommunicado until such time as I can determine how to remove your memories of this location, or make some other use of you."
"Yeah, right. You don't dare let me loose, or I'll kill you. You're fucking terrified of me."
Expression: Sneer.
Intensity: Less than before.
Analysis: Determined not to show fear.
Conclusion: Projecting onto others is her way of exerting control over the situation.
"I feel nothing about you." It was only the truth. Even when my powers were inactive, she registered almost as little in my thoughts as Emma did these days. I had larger issues on my mind, such as Coil and the way he had steered Lung onto us.
"Can you get me different food, at least? This stuff is shit."
Observation: Is not actually rejecting food.
"You have food, shelter and relative safety. Variety and entertainment are up to you." Bearing the tray with the used containers, I left the cell once more.
Tammi was waiting outside in the corridor, which was in the lowest sub-basement of the Medhall building. I re-secured the cell, then dropped my power.
"So how is she?" Tammi fell into step alongside me as we headed along the corridor. "And how come you wait on her hand and foot? Isn't she the one who used to fuck with you big-time?"
"She's pissed off, and she still thinks I go in there to lord it over her." I sighed irritably. "I'm proving to myself and her that I'm a better person than she'll ever be."
"Well, you're definitely a fuckin' better person than me." Tammi hooked her head backward to indicate the cell door, then drew her finger across her throat with a theatrical throat-slitting sound. "I woulda topped her about one hour after we caught her. And even with that, she'd be getting off lightly. Hooks and the boys were talking about spending some quality time with her before they took out the trash."
I knew exactly what Tammi meant by 'quality time', but I carefully didn't think about it too closely. "That's not my way. Yes, she's a raging psychotic murderous black bitch who deserves everything she gets, but torture isn't my thing. If she ever gets to be more trouble than she's worth, then I'll kill her myself. But it'll be quick. One and done."
She didn't argue with my capability to do just that, or my right to handle matters the way I saw fit. Everyone in the Empire (and quite a few people outside it) knew exactly what I'd done to Lung. As a direct result of that, Mr Anders had placed me in the second-in-command slot even above Hookwolf and Krieg, which meant I had the chops to make my wishes stick.
In other words, nothing untoward would happen to Sophia unless and until I said otherwise. People being people, they might grumble, or even try to pull shit behind my back if they thought they could get away with it, but that just meant I'd have to keep a sharp eye out. Sucked to be them: I had lots of experience at that from my time in Winslow.
Absolutely nobody thought I'd go easy on anyone who fucked around to my face.
We entered Mr Anders' private elevator, and I used my handprint on the biometric reader. While I could have used my power to override the mechanism, that would've been rude. And why bother anyway? We literally had the run of the place.
On the way up, I dipped into my power a couple of times to make sure all was going well in and around the Medhall building. All mechanical systems were operating within tolerances, and those security guards who carried guns were where they were supposed to be. More specifically, no unusual vehicles were approaching the building either from the ground or the air.
As we stepped out into Mr Anders' office, he swivelled his wheelchair to face us. "Good morning, ladies. Did she give you any more information, perhaps about Coil?"
"I didn't ask," I said honestly. "I'm thinking that if I make each visit as bland as the food, she'll slip and say something just to get a reaction. But I'm also not going to rely on her as an information source."
"Probably wise." He looked at me consideringly. "But if she doesn't know where to find him—and I'm beginning to believe that she doesn't—then we're back to square one."
"Maybe not." I headed around the desk and dropped into a visitor's chair. Tammi grabbed the one next to me, and swivelled it around to sit backward on it. "While I was using my power earlier, I did some thinking." My power didn't make me smarter as such, but it did allow me to filter out all extraneous emotional biases from my thought processes, to reach more accurate conclusions.
Mr Anders leaned forward slightly, the tips of his fingers resting against one another. "I'm listening."
I took a deep breath. Although I could've gone into my power to present this logically, I was trying not to lean on it so much. "So, we know Coil has mercenaries, and maybe a few capes working for him on the side. The capes will have their own bases of operation, but for mercenaries he needs someplace to house and train them where they won't draw attention. You can't just set up a barracks in an abandoned warehouse, because sooner or later they'll decide it isn't worth the pay and either kill him or desert. He needs a dedicated facility with all the mod cons, and it needs to either be in plain sight and so innocuous that even Thinker capes can look at it and not see anything amiss, or totally hidden from everyone."
He frowned. "Much like the Medhall building, you mean."
I'd already made that connection myself, of course, but I'd decided not to call attention to it. "Yeah, but he's the bad guy. We're the good guys. This is to protect us and our people. He's doing it so he can stab people in the back and run away." Not that it would help him in this situation.
"Very well. Granted. Continue." Mr Anders' gaze had not shifted from me.
"If it's innocuous, it's above ground. If it's hidden, it's below ground. I'm thinking of a two-pronged search. First prong, we look at ownership and suspicious comings and goings from complexes or buildings that shouldn't support stuff like that. Second prong, we look back in city records for underground construction that was officially halted or abandoned."
"Holy shit." Tammi's eyes lit up in a classic 'eureka' moment. "I got it. You know what would make a perfect underground mercenary base? An Endbringer shelter."
Mr Anders shook his head. "I can't see it. Not even someone with pull from the PRT could just unilaterally requisition a shelter like that. There would be pushback, complaints, paperwork for literally years. And that's if nobody actually involved them in a lawsuit over it."
"No …" I said slowly. "But … what if someone pretended they were building a shelter, then reported that the construction had to be halted? Brockton Bay isn't on the most solid of foundations, here. Nobody would question it."
"That's a good idea, too." Mr Anders took up his phone and sent a quick text message. "I'll start Victor combing the bushes and tracking down anything that matches the indicators of what you've suggested."
I nodded. "In the meantime, I'll go find Justin. We can take a drive through Downtown."
Tammi looked at me sideways. "Downtown? Why Downtown?"
Mr Anders answered for me. "Because it's there that building ownership is most likely to be hardest to unravel. Good thinking. But what makes you think you'll be able to detect such a base?"
I shrugged. "If it's underground, it'll have things like doors and lights. Also, mercenaries have armouries. I'm pretty sure I can pick out a whole stack of guns side by side."
"And if it's not in the PRT building … yes." He nodded slowly. "Just one thing. Do not engage if you happen to locate his base. Inform Crusader, and we'll do this properly."
"Yes, sir." I wasn't being facetious. Coil had fucked with us all, so it was only fair that we all got a chance to kick his head in.
Throwaway Timeline
PRT Building ENE
Coil
Thomas Calvert frowned as he read over the report. While it seemed that his ploy had met with moderate success—several members of the Empire Eighty-Eight, including Kaiser, were dead or at least badly injured— according to Glory Girl, Remote was alive and well. Moreover, supporting material indicated that Oni Lee and Lung were thoroughly deceased, at Remote's hands.
Twenty-four hours after the attack, she'd deliberately tripped another one of Lung's ambushes, waded through a hail of bullets and a literal inferno, and dismembered him before killing him. That was not the sign of a gang that was dying or dead.
He paused to consider the situation.
On the one hand, Lung's exit from the scene was useful, in that Calvert now only had one main adversary within Brockton Bay (he didn't count the PRT, as he eventually intended to be running it), but it was disconcerting that his attack on one had resulted in the deaths of his catspaws. Worse, Remote was even more ruthlessly effective than he'd understood. From the number of his ambushes she'd effortlessly dismantled, he knew damn well she could simply stop guns from firing, yet she'd allowed the gang members to shoot at her with impunity, just to prove she could ignore their fire.
The question was, what would the Empire do now?
It was absolutely something that he'd have to think about. He'd thought they would at least pause to lick their wounds after the devastating ambush, but they'd come back fast and hard and effectively, utterly wrecking the opposition and ending up in a better place overall. His main concern right now was whether or not they'd figured out certain facts.
Hmm.
There was a minor risk involved with doing this, but what the hell, that was what throwaway timelines were for. Taking out a burner, he dialled Tattletale's number.
"Hey, boss. What's up?"
She seemed unreasonably chirpy for this time of day, but teenage girls were irritating by nature so he did his best to ignore it. "Assuming that I steered Lung and Oni Lee to ambush the Empire the other night, is it likely that they've figured out that I was behind that? If that's the case, what are they likely to do in retaliation, if anything?"
She was silent for a few seconds. When she spoke again, he voice was more hushed. "Ho ho ho hooooly shit, boss! You did that? Yeah, they'll figure it out. It won't take them long, either. And yeah, they're gonna be looking for you. There's a real good chance that Remote's power will let them pinpoint your base if she gets within shouting distance of it. If I was you, I'd start working from home, just saying."
That wasn't what he wanted to hear. "What should I do to forestall this eventuality?"
From the tone of her voice, she was deriving far too much amusement from the situation. "Like I said, work from home. Or better yet, move to Boston. The Empire has someone who can maybe detect machines from a distance, and control them with precision. Your mercenaries depend on their guns, and she can see the guns before you can see her. If you really want to try and fuck that porcupine, go ahead, but don't say I didn't warn you."
"No, you don't understand." By now, he was doing his best to hold onto the last shreds of his patience. "How do I get around her? How do I beat them?"
"Oh, that's easy." He could hear the irritating grin in her voice. "You don't. I literally can't see a way for you to win this. But hey, you do you. Give it your best shot. I might be wrong."
He ended the call with more violence than was absolutely necessary, then sat glowering out the window. Tattletale was due for another torture session when he got the chance, but right now he had a bigger problem in front of him. If the Empire Eighty-Eight—and thus Remote—is hunting me for Lung's attack, how do I win?
It was a distinct problem, and one without a simple solution.
Main Timeline
Undersiders' Base
Grue
"Holy shit." Alec spoke the words with what sounded almost like reverence. "Lung's dead."
"What?" Brian pulled his workout regime to a halt. "That can't be right."
"Sure as hell. They're saying some guy in power armour cut his head off last night." Alec turned his laptop to show Brian the PHO thread. "I bet Oni Lee's pissed as fuck about it."
"He's dead too." Lisa didn't look up from her own laptop at the far end of the couch. "The armoured guy is an armoured girl, she goes by the name of Remote, and she ganked Lee the night before last. Skewered him with a metal spike."
"What?" Brian shared a startled glance with Alec. "Why the fuck didn't you tell us all this like, say, yesterday?"
"Lung wasn't dead yesterday, and it might've been a fluke." Lisa shrugged. "Wasn't a fluke. She went after him with intent, met him head on, and cut his arms and legs off before decapitating him."
"Well, shit." Alec managed to look worried, a rare event for him. "Who's she going after next? Kaiser?"
Lisa rolled her eyes. "No, doofus. She's Empire. I don't have all the details, but the other night the ABB hit the Empire pretty hard, and at least one person died. This was retaliation, pure and simple."
"Great." Brian abandoned the workout altogether. "So now the Empire doesn't have the ABB to worry about. They're gonna be looking to clamp down on gangs like us, and I'm not exactly the classic Aryan poster child, just saying."
"The whiff I'm getting isn't that they're looking to expand right now, except as an afterthought." The keyboard on Lisa's laptop was getting a real workout as she typed. "There was some kind of behind-the-scenes chicanery, and they're trying to find and kill whoever screwed them over. Might've been a mole or an undercover cape, not enough details to say which."
"It wasn't us, right?" Brian paused to make sure he had Lisa's attention. "Right?"
"Oh?" Lisa raised her eyes to his for a moment, then her expression cleared. "Uh, no. It totally wasn't us. If the boss had asked me any questions about the Empire, I'd know about it. Right now I'm doing my best to find out who did do it, so if Hookwolf or someone kicks our door in, I can tell him what he wants to know."
"If Hookwolf kicks our door in, he's not going to be looking for answers to questions, just saying." Alec's tone was both dry and serious. "If that happens, I'm going out the window."
Brian glanced at the large windows that made up most of one wall. "Those windows don't open."
"I said what I said."
PRT Building ENE, Conference Room A
Director Emily Piggot
The atmosphere in the conference room was grim, with even the perennial jokesters in both the Wards and the Protectorate uncharacteristically quiet. All the heroes were present; PRT personnel were out on the streets as a stopgap for the moment. Emily stood at the head of the table, jaw set, eyeing them all.
"As you will all be aware," she began, "the night before last, Lung and Oni Lee ambushed a contingent of the Empire Eighty-Eight. As far as we know, Oni Lee did not survive that encounter, and it's likely that the Empire lost people as well. Last night, the Empire came back for a return match, with their newest recruit leading the way. We've been hearing whispers of the name 'Remote', but aside from the fact that they're probably a Tinker, we've got nothing else."
"Excuse me, Director." Gallant had his hand up. "Unless the Empire got two new recruits recently, isn't it likely that Remote is Taylor Hebert? The one who was involved in the, uh, incident on the Boardwalk with Panacea, Glory Girl, Victor and Othala?"
Emily looked sharply at him, then paused. He had a distinct point; but in that case, why hadn't Glory Girl asked the same question? She'd been involved in both incidents, after all. Giving the blonde teen a suspicious glance, Emily responded. "That's entirely logical, yes. Glory Girl, your opinion?"
"Um … hm." Apparently unfazed by the question or the attention, Glory Girl ran her thumbnail over her lower lip. "I can't argue that it's unlikely, but the only available evidence is strictly circumstantial. I've never actually seen Remote out of the suit, and their voice is a lot deeper while they're in it. So I didn't want to present the possibility as fact, or even a near certainty."
Emily blinked. Glory Girl had come into the Wards as a direct result of her tendency to punch first and ask questions later. That kind of analytical thinking was exactly what she'd failed to exhibit before. Better late than never, I suppose. "… I see. Very well, to continue. Last night, Remote—who may or may not be Taylor Hebert—engaged Lung. Unconfirmed accounts state that it was an ambush on the part of the ABB, with many people firing automatic weapons at the power armour. Remote apparently took on Lung solo, withstood his worst fire, then killed him. Lung was dismembered and decapitated, and we understand that Remote came out of it unscathed."
The silence that greeted her statement was so absolute she could hear the air-conditioning fans cycling gently in the ceiling vents. Even for the people in the room who would've heard the news elsewhere, it would be hard to accept such a thing happening without serious evidence. Especially to someone like Lung. He was the type of person who did that sort of thing to other people, not the one to whom it happened.
Assault spoke first. "We're certain of this." While it was phrased as a statement, she could hear the question mark dangling silently in the air.
She met his gaze squarely, or at least looked directly at his visor. "I personally viewed the body. His tattoos were all intact, but he was missing his right leg, and his left leg was all but gone as well. Remote took his right arm off above the elbow and his left at the shoulder, then carved his head off with what appears to be some kind of high-pressure water blade. Make no mistake: this wasn't an accidental kill in the heat of combat. This was an execution. Remote set out to murder him, designed the power armour to do just that, and carried the kill out by the numbers."
Triumph shook his head in confusion. "But he regenerates. Regenerated. How did Remote get through his scales and cut him fast enough to make it work?"
Emily had asked that question herself. Taking a small clear plastic tube from her pocket, she held it up to show everyone the contents. "This is a tungsten carbide projectile. The techs retrieved dozens of them from the site. We're not quite sure what propellant it uses, but from the penetration and damage, they hit like a fifty-cal." Another small container joined the first. "And this is a miniature tungsten carbide circular saw blade. It apparently came loose from whatever mechanism was powering it, but it still has fragments of Lung's DNA in between the teeth. The techs' best guess is that Remote had dozens or hundreds of these, working in series, possibly set into a chainsaw configuration."
"Well, that's not terrifying in the slightest." It seemed Clockblocker was recovering his sense of humour, as morbid as it was.
"Ah." Glory Girl put her hand up before anyone could yell at her teammate. "Not a chainsaw, ma'am. When I fought Remote, the suit had mechanical tentacles that wrapped around my legs. I've been thinking it might have tased me, but what if it also had these blades incorporated into the tentacles?"
Emily could quite easily envisage such a device wrapping around Lung's limbs and activating sawblades to slice through the toughest flesh and bone in seconds. She'd viewed Glory Girl's report, but hadn't made the connection to that point. "Thank you for that reminder. I'll let them know. In the meantime." She turned her head, getting the attention of each of the capes present. "As of right now, Remote is designated as an A-class threat. They are capable of constructing a suit to withstand the worst that Lung could dish out, so don't assume that any of your offensive powers will be enough to take them down. Likewise, don't assume that your protective powers will save you. If you're fighting Remote, maintain your distance, watch for the mechanical tentacles, and use containment foam if possible. Also, if you capture any of their working tech, get it to Armsmaster immediately, so he can work out how to counteract it. Questions?"
"Yeah." Assault had also evidently regained his mental balance. "Why the hell do stupidly powerful capes always end up working for the Empire or the ABB? Why not us?"
He was only saying it to relieve the tension, Emily knew, as the chuckles arose around the room. But this time, she had a reply for him. "Because if Remote is indeed Taylor Hebert, we're the ones who let Shadow Stalker bully her until she triggered, with Empire Eighty-Eight recruits-in-training all around her. Is it any wonder she jumped straight into the arms of the only people who were willing to recognise her plight and offer assistance?" By the time she finished talking, people were leaning back from her tone of savage sarcasm.
"But we couldn't have known—" That was Battery.
Emily cut her off with a slash of her hand. "We should have! We had one goddamn job, people! Making sure that capes don't hurt civilians. We already knew Stalker was prone to violence and had an anti-authority bias. She should've been under a microscope every second of the day! Her personal phone was full of goddamn text messages describing what she was doing to the Hebert girl! A master of subterfuge, she wasn't. Make no mistake: this is on us."
"Wasn't she supposed to have a PRT handler?" ventured Velocity. "What happened there?"
Emily growled briefly under her breath. "Yes. A little twit called Bright. What happened was that Bright had some sort of under-the-table never-spoken-of agreement with Stalker's goddamn school principal. It's going to be very hard to prove actual collusion, but what's clearly been going on is that Blackwell's been soft-pedalling any punishments for misbehaviour, and Bright's been stingy with information as to what she's been up to. All so Blackwell could keep the Ward stipend coming in to the school, and Bright could keep her cushy job without ever actually doing said goddamn job."
Aegis tentatively raised his hand. "So, have we heard anything new about where she might be? Shadow Stalker, I mean." Emily had already figured that out, but she appreciated the clarification.
"No." She hated to say it, but it was the truth. "However, and this does not leave this room, her escape was assisted from the outside. If any of you recall seeing PRT personnel coming in or out of the Wards area, even if you thought you recognised them, let me or Armsmaster know as soon as possible." She decided to leave out the information about a ranking PRT officer—the troopers didn't have access to the secondary ankle-cuff keys—being a potential mole. The last thing she wanted was for the Wards to give the game away by treating all PRT officers with suspicion.
"Wait." That was Vista. "I thought she busted out because she thought this Hebert girl was Remote, and wanted to take her down." She glanced around at the other Wards, who all nodded or made noises of agreement. "If someone helped her to escape, then what's their agenda?"
Mentally, Emily awarded the kid a gold star for clear thinking. "That's what we're trying to figure out. The texts from her phone indicate that she met up with someone for an unspecified task, but there are virtually zero usable details. They signed their texts with the initial 'C', which leaves a very small selection of possible names."
"Challenger, Circus, Coil, Clockblocker, Cricket and Crusader," recited Armsmaster, evidently reading off his HUD. "We can, of course, strike some names off that list immediately."
"Damn right," muttered Challenger. Clockblocker nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything.
Miss Militia frowned. "I doubt very much Cricket or Crusader would go against the Empire, especially considering this is Shadow Stalker. So, we're down to Coil and Circus."
Assault raised his chin. "I'm thinking Circus. She's a rooftop runner, and Coil's a mastermind of some sort. I just can't see him having her meet him directly for a job. He uses go-betweens all day long."
"Very well," decided Emily. "We'll go with the working theory that it's Circus. This is a problem, because if it is Circus, they won't be the person in charge."
Armsmaster nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. She's never come across as the mastermind. So, who hired her to break Stalker out of the PRT building? If we knew that, we could go a long way toward understanding the why."
Kid Win sat up in his chair. "I think I just figured out the 'why'."
Everyone turned to look at him. "Explain," Emily invited.
The young Tinker seemed to shrink down again. "Right, right, um. So, bear with me. If Remote is this Taylor Hebert, who Stalker really really hates, and she's now a big wheel in the Empire, Stalker's a ready-made weapon to use against Remote and the Empire. Not that she'd object to hurting the Empire on principle. Um."
Armsmaster made a go-on motion. "That's not news. Get to the point."
"Right, um, so when the Boardwalk incident happened, Taylor Hebert's father was one of the injured parties, yeah? And nobody's seen him since. Vicky, you said something about him being in a coma?"
Glory Girl nodded briefly. "Ames said he had brain damage, and she can't do brains."
"Okay, so Remote's really good at what she does, so the Empire's taking care of her dad, because they want to keep on her good side. Maybe even get Othala to look at him. But now we have our Mr X who wants to pry Remote away from the Empire, so they hire Circus to bust Shadow Stalker out of the PRT building, to snatch Mr Hebert from wherever the Empire's holding him, to use as leverage on Remote." Flushed and not a little breathless, Kid Win sat back again.
Emily blinked as the pieces of the puzzle slotted together. "I … think you may have actually figured it out," she said slowly. "Or rather, it's a compelling narrative." Which made it suspect, but she knew not to accept it—or reject it—just because it sounded good. Supporting evidence was key. Then something else occurred to her. "Glory Girl, you encountered Lung and Remote in Merchant territory, correct?"
"Ah, yes, ma'am." The teen hero looked cautiously at her. "I'd heard the Empire was doing something there."
"Exactly." Emily looked around at the costumed heroes in the room. "If the Wards common room had heard about it, then people outside this building had also heard about it. Our Mr X, to borrow Kid Win's phrasing, may well have tipped Lung off, if he didn't already know. Thus, the whole ambush and fight was also part of the plan, to delay Remote and the rest of the Empire contingent from returning to their base before the snatch and grab went through."
"That all hangs together," Miss Militia admitted. "A lot better than if we treated it as a bunch of unconnected incidents, to be honest. But that leaves the final question. Two questions. Who is Mr X, and where is Shadow Stalker?"
Armsmaster stirred. "I've been conferring with Dragon, and I think we can make an educated guess at both answers. Stalker failed in her job; we know this because Remote killed Lung the next night, and she's not tearing the city apart looking for her father. Which means Stalker was either captured or killed. Knowing the Empire, capture means being killed anyway, once they got what they wanted out of her. The chances are that they don't want the backlash of killing a Ward, so if her body hasn't been found yet, it never will be."
That drew a grimace out of Emily. Stalker had been a thoroughly unpleasant little shit, but she'd been a Ward all the same. "We'll start combing through the Jane Does in the morgue, to see if any fit her age and description. So, who do you think Mr X is?"
"Coil." He paused and looked around. "Let me expand. Coil's the only one I think who fits the parameters. It's not Lung, because Lung wants to kill her, probably because she's encountered him before and come out on top. He wouldn't have bothered trying to kidnap her father at the same time as the fight was going on if he was just trying to kill her. It's not Kaiser, by definition. I very much doubt that it's Skidmark. None of the smaller gangs have the chops to pull this sort of thing off. So, my conclusion is that it's Coil."
Well, at least he didn't try to drag it out for a big reveal. Emily considered the points that he'd put forward, and couldn't muster an argument against any of them. "Very well. We'll go with that, but if you turn up any evidence against it, let me know post-haste. The last thing we want is to head down the wrong rabbit-hole. Likewise, if you get even the slightest hint that Stalker is alive, I want to know." She began to stand. "I think we're done here."
Triumph raised his hand. "Uh, what do we do about the infiltration?"
What, indeed. "We'll probably find that it was carried out by Circus, in disguise, with ID supplied by Coil or another contact. I'll have the techs go over the security footage in detail, and work up protocols to prevent it from happening again." Standing all the way up, she gave the room a sharp nod. "Dismissed."
The sixty-four-million-dollar question, she mused as they filed out of the room, was whether Coil had managed to suborn one of her officers, or if he was one of her officers.
Neither prospect appealed.
Half an Hour Later
Downtown
Remote
I was deep in my power, scanning in all directions as well as downward (not something I tended to take notice of, as there were usually very few machines below ground level) for anything resembling a Bond villain base, when Crusader spoke. "I'm really sorry about your dad. We all are."
His voice registered on me, but I completed the scan before I dropped my power and turned to answer him. "Thanks, I appreciate it." I knew what he was referring to, of course. Othala's death had been a double tragedy; as well as her passing, I also had to deal with the fact that Dad would never get any better now. Also, that Mary was dead simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. "I just wish I'd seen them coming, or been a bit closer, or been a bit faster to get everyone to Panacea. Anything."
"Hey." He took his hand off the wheel to give my shoulder a quick squeeze. "Absolutely none of this is your fault. You're not to blame for asshole slant-eyes deciding to throw down with us. They came at us and paid the price. You totally saved Tammi and Max. If anyone's to blame for Othala dying, it's Glory Girl. She wasted a shitload of time."
"But she was our ticket to Panacea, so …" I shrugged. "What's it say about the so-called heroes that they don't even think about helping until it's one of their own on the line?" Because we both knew there wouldn't have been a hope in hell of getting that healing if we hadn't had Glory Girl as a bargaining chip.
"Nothing good," he agreed. "Sometimes I think the ones that call themselves heroes should take a good long look in the mirror, y'know? Because a lot of the time they just make matters worse. The way they bend over backward for minorities but come down hard on us right-thinking folk is downright criminal. But even with that, did you ever see a black hero? I never did. Shadow Stalker was just some degenerate criminal they shoved into the Wards to prove how forward thinking they are."
"I hear you." It was nothing but the truth. Grue and Skidmark were both black, and Lung had run a crew that was all Asian criminals. I had yet to see a black or Asian hero in the Protectorate or Wards (an actual hero, not a pretend one); Aegis didn't count, as he was Puerto Rican and nearly white. They just can't be trusted. I'd had personal experience with that.
As we cruised through the intersection near a skyscraper under construction, I dipped into my power for a couple of seconds, as I'd been doing all the way through the conversation. "… stop. Turn back."
"What? What have you seen?" But he was already hitting the indicator and prepping for a not-entirely-legal U-turn. However, this was going to take a little time, so I took over.
Assume positive control: All cars in contested traffic area.
Designate current vehicle 'Gloria'.
Adjust traffic pattern to accommodate U-turn with vehicle designated 'Gloria'.
Perform U-turn with 'Gloria'.
Involuntary vocalisation by Crusader: Startled yelp.
Analysis: Crusader was not expecting outside assistance.
Conclusion: A warning would be preferred, in future.
Analysis of traffic: Flowing smoothly.
Release vehicles to driver control.
Control released.
"You have the car," I stated. "We were in no danger."
"Jeez!" he complained, clutching the wheel with one hand and his chest with the other. "Do me a favour and warn a guy next time! I thought we were gonna die!"
"There was ample room. We were in no danger of collision. I had the other cars under control as well." I pointed at the ground next to the half-constructed skyscraper. "Also, I found the base. It's under there."
"What, you did? Really?" He stared in that direction. I wasn't sure what he was looking for; a concealed base would have a concealed entrance, by definition.
"Really." I was incapable of sarcasm while using my power, so I simply told the truth. "Keep going this way, then take the next right."
"Sure, I can do that. How big is it?" He followed my instructions; in the meantime, I took note of a police car some distance back that had changed direction to intercept us. They no doubt wished to remonstrate with Crusader over his sudden U-turn, but I had no desire to interact with the police at this time, so I turned off their engine and let them coast to a stop. By the time they got it started again, we would be too far away for them to reacquire us.
"I cannot gauge that except in the most general of terms. There are automated doors, as well as pumps and generators for lighting. In addition, there is an armoury holding a significant amount of weaponry. I count fifty assault rifles, two dozen hand grenades, several pistols, and fifty devices that I do not know the purpose of. Also, there appear to be odd devices built into the walls of the structure. Some kind of electromechanical switch."
"Okay, yeah, wow. That's gotta be Coil's base." Crusader kept driving, taking another right, which led toward an undercover parking structure. "Max is going to want to know about how to get in."
"I count two entry points, perhaps three." I pointed at the parking structure. "There is one under there, another in the construction site, and a potential third leading to a manhole on the street we just drove down. I suspect the third is a personal escape route for Coil." While I couldn't see the passageways, I could see door mechanisms, including latches and hinges. The more security that a location incorporated, the easier it was for me to divine its internal layout. Had I not been immersed in my power, I may have found that to be humorous.
"That's useful as hell, sure." He drove into the parking structure, manoeuvred around, then came out again. "What about those switches? Any idea of what that might be?"
"It is not something I am familiar with. Perhaps extra lighting. An underground base with no access to natural light must require considerable illumination." It was the best explanation I could come up with.
"Yeah, I suppose. Think we could get away with me sending a ghost or two down to scope the place out?" Expression: hopeful.
I shook my head definitively. "Not a good idea. Kaiser wants Coil entirely unaware that we have pinned down his location, until it is too late for him to do anything about it."
"Okay, yeah, good point." He turned the car away from the location. "Doing well, though. We found him on the first try."
I dropped my power and felt a tide of elation sweep through me. We'd found the bastard! "Haha, yeah. Wasn't totally random, though. Like I told Max, the ownership of all this area is so convoluted that if you were looking to see who had title to any specific patch of real estate, you'd be there for a year. It'd be like locating a needle inside a haystack inside another haystack. For someone like Coil, it's the most natural place to try to hide." I gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "All I had to do was try to climb inside his skin."
"Eurgh." He grinned while making the noise. "That sounds disgusting."
"Which is why I need about ten showers at least when we get back, so there's that." I sighed, recalling why we were going after Coil in the first place. "I just wish this hadn't been necessary, that's all."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Don't we all."
Director Emily Piggot
"You've got something for me?" Give me some good news, she didn't quite say.
The tech seemed to hear it anyway as he turned the screen toward her. "Yes, ma'am. We picked out three service staff who were in that area during the time period that you gave us. Each of them apparently signed in with legitimate ID … except that while two of them were actually legit, the third one was using the ID of someone who's on vacation in Florida."
"Did you verify that she's actually in Florida?" She knew the question would need to be asked.
"Yes, ma'am. Looked up the name of the hotel, called the front desk, and left a code phrase with the guy. Then I rang her phone and had her go down to the front desk and ask him for the code phrase. She's in Florida."
"Good." It was so satisfying to have competent assistance. Unlike that Bright idiot. Emily was actively looking forward to that particular exit interview. "So, what do you have on the footage for the impostor?"
"Unfortunately, nothing that facial rec can really grab onto," the tech confessed. He turned his screen to show Emily what he meant. On screen after screen, the slim figure of the infiltrator showed up, but always managed to obscure their features when they came in line with a camera. "But we do have something else."
Emily glowered at the image on the screen. She'd been right; even without a usable face, that was Circus, sure enough. The body types were identical, no matter whether they were wearing a harlequin outfit or PRT coveralls. "Talk to me."
"When she went on vacation, she was taken off the roster. Her ID should have triggered an alert, but it didn't, because someone put her back on the roster, and then took her off it again after the drop-off was made. Then they scrubbed the roster change." The tech held up a triumphant finger as Emily went to speak. "But. Five years ago, in Chicago, a bunch of techs were caught changing roster times to pull off a complicated scam. So a systemwide update got put into place, where roster changelogs, and the system IDs of the people making them, go into a read-only file. And that file has the system ID of the person who changed logs, both times." He hit a key, and a single line popped up.
Emily's eyes traced along the length of it, and came to an alphanumeric ID number. "That's the system ID?"
"Correct, ma'am. I don't have the clearance to open it. That's officers and above only."
"Understood. Out of the chair, please."
"Ma'am."
The tech vacated his seat and Emily lowered herself into it. She double-clicked the ID designator; sure enough, it popped up a request for her clearance code. Checking to make sure the tech wasn't watching, she typed it in.
The name that opened up on the screen made her want to bang her head on the desk. I knew it. I goddamn knew it. But she hadn't, not really. She just wasn't surprised at all.
CALVERT, THOMAS. STRIKE SQUAD COMMANDER.
I've got you now, you bastard.
End of Part Twenty-Six
Part Twenty-Six: Preparations for Retribution
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[A/N 2: Reminder for the reader that Taylor is a member of the Empire Eighty-Eight in this fic, and may express racist views that the author does not share.]
Sunday Morning, February 20, 2011
Medhall Sub-Basement
Remote
Unlock cell door.
Open cell door.
I walked into the cell, holding the tray of food. It was thoroughly bland fare, but would allow a teenage girl to survive indefinitely without suffering significant nutritional deficiencies, including the ongoing requirements of a growing body. I wasn't a sadist, after all; indeed, when I was expressing my powers, I was incapable of the impulse.
Close cell door. Secure cell door.
Sophia looked up at me as the lock clicked shut. "The fuck you want this time? Here to gloat again?"
Analysis of expression and tone: Frustrated anger. No change.
Conclusion: Still harbours hatred and hostility. Is trying to forget the fact that she is the agent of her own downfall.
Despite this, she did not try to attack me. There had been exactly one attempt at that, on the previous night, whereupon I had demonstrated my control over the manual switch located in the next room over; specifically, the switch that sent a high-voltage, low-amperage current through her ankle cuff to two electrodes placed against her bare skin. It seemed that where platitudes and pleas had trouble gaining her attention, a short sharp shock got through with zero problems at all.
If the PRT had understood that from the start, things may have turned out very differently indeed.
"I do not gloat." I placed the food bowl and the water container on the shelf that had been provided for it, and took up the old ones. "It is a pointless activity. You are being kept incommunicado until such time as I can determine how to remove your memories of this location, or make some other use of you."
"Yeah, right. You don't dare let me loose, or I'll kill you. You're fucking terrified of me."
Expression: Sneer.
Intensity: Less than before.
Analysis: Determined not to show fear.
Conclusion: Projecting onto others is her way of exerting control over the situation.
"I feel nothing about you." It was only the truth. Even when my powers were inactive, she registered almost as little in my thoughts as Emma did these days. I had larger issues on my mind, such as Coil and the way he had steered Lung onto us.
"Can you get me different food, at least? This stuff is shit."
Observation: Is not actually rejecting food.
"You have food, shelter and relative safety. Variety and entertainment are up to you." Bearing the tray with the used containers, I left the cell once more.
Tammi was waiting outside in the corridor, which was in the lowest sub-basement of the Medhall building. I re-secured the cell, then dropped my power.
"So how is she?" Tammi fell into step alongside me as we headed along the corridor. "And how come you wait on her hand and foot? Isn't she the one who used to fuck with you big-time?"
"She's pissed off, and she still thinks I go in there to lord it over her." I sighed irritably. "I'm proving to myself and her that I'm a better person than she'll ever be."
"Well, you're definitely a fuckin' better person than me." Tammi hooked her head backward to indicate the cell door, then drew her finger across her throat with a theatrical throat-slitting sound. "I woulda topped her about one hour after we caught her. And even with that, she'd be getting off lightly. Hooks and the boys were talking about spending some quality time with her before they took out the trash."
I knew exactly what Tammi meant by 'quality time', but I carefully didn't think about it too closely. "That's not my way. Yes, she's a raging psychotic murderous black bitch who deserves everything she gets, but torture isn't my thing. If she ever gets to be more trouble than she's worth, then I'll kill her myself. But it'll be quick. One and done."
She didn't argue with my capability to do just that, or my right to handle matters the way I saw fit. Everyone in the Empire (and quite a few people outside it) knew exactly what I'd done to Lung. As a direct result of that, Mr Anders had placed me in the second-in-command slot even above Hookwolf and Krieg, which meant I had the chops to make my wishes stick.
In other words, nothing untoward would happen to Sophia unless and until I said otherwise. People being people, they might grumble, or even try to pull shit behind my back if they thought they could get away with it, but that just meant I'd have to keep a sharp eye out. Sucked to be them: I had lots of experience at that from my time in Winslow.
Absolutely nobody thought I'd go easy on anyone who fucked around to my face.
We entered Mr Anders' private elevator, and I used my handprint on the biometric reader. While I could have used my power to override the mechanism, that would've been rude. And why bother anyway? We literally had the run of the place.
On the way up, I dipped into my power a couple of times to make sure all was going well in and around the Medhall building. All mechanical systems were operating within tolerances, and those security guards who carried guns were where they were supposed to be. More specifically, no unusual vehicles were approaching the building either from the ground or the air.
As we stepped out into Mr Anders' office, he swivelled his wheelchair to face us. "Good morning, ladies. Did she give you any more information, perhaps about Coil?"
"I didn't ask," I said honestly. "I'm thinking that if I make each visit as bland as the food, she'll slip and say something just to get a reaction. But I'm also not going to rely on her as an information source."
"Probably wise." He looked at me consideringly. "But if she doesn't know where to find him—and I'm beginning to believe that she doesn't—then we're back to square one."
"Maybe not." I headed around the desk and dropped into a visitor's chair. Tammi grabbed the one next to me, and swivelled it around to sit backward on it. "While I was using my power earlier, I did some thinking." My power didn't make me smarter as such, but it did allow me to filter out all extraneous emotional biases from my thought processes, to reach more accurate conclusions.
Mr Anders leaned forward slightly, the tips of his fingers resting against one another. "I'm listening."
I took a deep breath. Although I could've gone into my power to present this logically, I was trying not to lean on it so much. "So, we know Coil has mercenaries, and maybe a few capes working for him on the side. The capes will have their own bases of operation, but for mercenaries he needs someplace to house and train them where they won't draw attention. You can't just set up a barracks in an abandoned warehouse, because sooner or later they'll decide it isn't worth the pay and either kill him or desert. He needs a dedicated facility with all the mod cons, and it needs to either be in plain sight and so innocuous that even Thinker capes can look at it and not see anything amiss, or totally hidden from everyone."
He frowned. "Much like the Medhall building, you mean."
I'd already made that connection myself, of course, but I'd decided not to call attention to it. "Yeah, but he's the bad guy. We're the good guys. This is to protect us and our people. He's doing it so he can stab people in the back and run away." Not that it would help him in this situation.
"Very well. Granted. Continue." Mr Anders' gaze had not shifted from me.
"If it's innocuous, it's above ground. If it's hidden, it's below ground. I'm thinking of a two-pronged search. First prong, we look at ownership and suspicious comings and goings from complexes or buildings that shouldn't support stuff like that. Second prong, we look back in city records for underground construction that was officially halted or abandoned."
"Holy shit." Tammi's eyes lit up in a classic 'eureka' moment. "I got it. You know what would make a perfect underground mercenary base? An Endbringer shelter."
Mr Anders shook his head. "I can't see it. Not even someone with pull from the PRT could just unilaterally requisition a shelter like that. There would be pushback, complaints, paperwork for literally years. And that's if nobody actually involved them in a lawsuit over it."
"No …" I said slowly. "But … what if someone pretended they were building a shelter, then reported that the construction had to be halted? Brockton Bay isn't on the most solid of foundations, here. Nobody would question it."
"That's a good idea, too." Mr Anders took up his phone and sent a quick text message. "I'll start Victor combing the bushes and tracking down anything that matches the indicators of what you've suggested."
I nodded. "In the meantime, I'll go find Justin. We can take a drive through Downtown."
Tammi looked at me sideways. "Downtown? Why Downtown?"
Mr Anders answered for me. "Because it's there that building ownership is most likely to be hardest to unravel. Good thinking. But what makes you think you'll be able to detect such a base?"
I shrugged. "If it's underground, it'll have things like doors and lights. Also, mercenaries have armouries. I'm pretty sure I can pick out a whole stack of guns side by side."
"And if it's not in the PRT building … yes." He nodded slowly. "Just one thing. Do not engage if you happen to locate his base. Inform Crusader, and we'll do this properly."
"Yes, sir." I wasn't being facetious. Coil had fucked with us all, so it was only fair that we all got a chance to kick his head in.
<><>
Throwaway Timeline
PRT Building ENE
Coil
Thomas Calvert frowned as he read over the report. While it seemed that his ploy had met with moderate success—several members of the Empire Eighty-Eight, including Kaiser, were dead or at least badly injured— according to Glory Girl, Remote was alive and well. Moreover, supporting material indicated that Oni Lee and Lung were thoroughly deceased, at Remote's hands.
Twenty-four hours after the attack, she'd deliberately tripped another one of Lung's ambushes, waded through a hail of bullets and a literal inferno, and dismembered him before killing him. That was not the sign of a gang that was dying or dead.
He paused to consider the situation.
On the one hand, Lung's exit from the scene was useful, in that Calvert now only had one main adversary within Brockton Bay (he didn't count the PRT, as he eventually intended to be running it), but it was disconcerting that his attack on one had resulted in the deaths of his catspaws. Worse, Remote was even more ruthlessly effective than he'd understood. From the number of his ambushes she'd effortlessly dismantled, he knew damn well she could simply stop guns from firing, yet she'd allowed the gang members to shoot at her with impunity, just to prove she could ignore their fire.
The question was, what would the Empire do now?
It was absolutely something that he'd have to think about. He'd thought they would at least pause to lick their wounds after the devastating ambush, but they'd come back fast and hard and effectively, utterly wrecking the opposition and ending up in a better place overall. His main concern right now was whether or not they'd figured out certain facts.
Hmm.
There was a minor risk involved with doing this, but what the hell, that was what throwaway timelines were for. Taking out a burner, he dialled Tattletale's number.
"Hey, boss. What's up?"
She seemed unreasonably chirpy for this time of day, but teenage girls were irritating by nature so he did his best to ignore it. "Assuming that I steered Lung and Oni Lee to ambush the Empire the other night, is it likely that they've figured out that I was behind that? If that's the case, what are they likely to do in retaliation, if anything?"
She was silent for a few seconds. When she spoke again, he voice was more hushed. "Ho ho ho hooooly shit, boss! You did that? Yeah, they'll figure it out. It won't take them long, either. And yeah, they're gonna be looking for you. There's a real good chance that Remote's power will let them pinpoint your base if she gets within shouting distance of it. If I was you, I'd start working from home, just saying."
That wasn't what he wanted to hear. "What should I do to forestall this eventuality?"
From the tone of her voice, she was deriving far too much amusement from the situation. "Like I said, work from home. Or better yet, move to Boston. The Empire has someone who can maybe detect machines from a distance, and control them with precision. Your mercenaries depend on their guns, and she can see the guns before you can see her. If you really want to try and fuck that porcupine, go ahead, but don't say I didn't warn you."
"No, you don't understand." By now, he was doing his best to hold onto the last shreds of his patience. "How do I get around her? How do I beat them?"
"Oh, that's easy." He could hear the irritating grin in her voice. "You don't. I literally can't see a way for you to win this. But hey, you do you. Give it your best shot. I might be wrong."
He ended the call with more violence than was absolutely necessary, then sat glowering out the window. Tattletale was due for another torture session when he got the chance, but right now he had a bigger problem in front of him. If the Empire Eighty-Eight—and thus Remote—is hunting me for Lung's attack, how do I win?
It was a distinct problem, and one without a simple solution.
<><>
Main Timeline
Undersiders' Base
Grue
"Holy shit." Alec spoke the words with what sounded almost like reverence. "Lung's dead."
"What?" Brian pulled his workout regime to a halt. "That can't be right."
"Sure as hell. They're saying some guy in power armour cut his head off last night." Alec turned his laptop to show Brian the PHO thread. "I bet Oni Lee's pissed as fuck about it."
"He's dead too." Lisa didn't look up from her own laptop at the far end of the couch. "The armoured guy is an armoured girl, she goes by the name of Remote, and she ganked Lee the night before last. Skewered him with a metal spike."
"What?" Brian shared a startled glance with Alec. "Why the fuck didn't you tell us all this like, say, yesterday?"
"Lung wasn't dead yesterday, and it might've been a fluke." Lisa shrugged. "Wasn't a fluke. She went after him with intent, met him head on, and cut his arms and legs off before decapitating him."
"Well, shit." Alec managed to look worried, a rare event for him. "Who's she going after next? Kaiser?"
Lisa rolled her eyes. "No, doofus. She's Empire. I don't have all the details, but the other night the ABB hit the Empire pretty hard, and at least one person died. This was retaliation, pure and simple."
"Great." Brian abandoned the workout altogether. "So now the Empire doesn't have the ABB to worry about. They're gonna be looking to clamp down on gangs like us, and I'm not exactly the classic Aryan poster child, just saying."
"The whiff I'm getting isn't that they're looking to expand right now, except as an afterthought." The keyboard on Lisa's laptop was getting a real workout as she typed. "There was some kind of behind-the-scenes chicanery, and they're trying to find and kill whoever screwed them over. Might've been a mole or an undercover cape, not enough details to say which."
"It wasn't us, right?" Brian paused to make sure he had Lisa's attention. "Right?"
"Oh?" Lisa raised her eyes to his for a moment, then her expression cleared. "Uh, no. It totally wasn't us. If the boss had asked me any questions about the Empire, I'd know about it. Right now I'm doing my best to find out who did do it, so if Hookwolf or someone kicks our door in, I can tell him what he wants to know."
"If Hookwolf kicks our door in, he's not going to be looking for answers to questions, just saying." Alec's tone was both dry and serious. "If that happens, I'm going out the window."
Brian glanced at the large windows that made up most of one wall. "Those windows don't open."
"I said what I said."
<><>
PRT Building ENE, Conference Room A
Director Emily Piggot
The atmosphere in the conference room was grim, with even the perennial jokesters in both the Wards and the Protectorate uncharacteristically quiet. All the heroes were present; PRT personnel were out on the streets as a stopgap for the moment. Emily stood at the head of the table, jaw set, eyeing them all.
"As you will all be aware," she began, "the night before last, Lung and Oni Lee ambushed a contingent of the Empire Eighty-Eight. As far as we know, Oni Lee did not survive that encounter, and it's likely that the Empire lost people as well. Last night, the Empire came back for a return match, with their newest recruit leading the way. We've been hearing whispers of the name 'Remote', but aside from the fact that they're probably a Tinker, we've got nothing else."
"Excuse me, Director." Gallant had his hand up. "Unless the Empire got two new recruits recently, isn't it likely that Remote is Taylor Hebert? The one who was involved in the, uh, incident on the Boardwalk with Panacea, Glory Girl, Victor and Othala?"
Emily looked sharply at him, then paused. He had a distinct point; but in that case, why hadn't Glory Girl asked the same question? She'd been involved in both incidents, after all. Giving the blonde teen a suspicious glance, Emily responded. "That's entirely logical, yes. Glory Girl, your opinion?"
"Um … hm." Apparently unfazed by the question or the attention, Glory Girl ran her thumbnail over her lower lip. "I can't argue that it's unlikely, but the only available evidence is strictly circumstantial. I've never actually seen Remote out of the suit, and their voice is a lot deeper while they're in it. So I didn't want to present the possibility as fact, or even a near certainty."
Emily blinked. Glory Girl had come into the Wards as a direct result of her tendency to punch first and ask questions later. That kind of analytical thinking was exactly what she'd failed to exhibit before. Better late than never, I suppose. "… I see. Very well, to continue. Last night, Remote—who may or may not be Taylor Hebert—engaged Lung. Unconfirmed accounts state that it was an ambush on the part of the ABB, with many people firing automatic weapons at the power armour. Remote apparently took on Lung solo, withstood his worst fire, then killed him. Lung was dismembered and decapitated, and we understand that Remote came out of it unscathed."
The silence that greeted her statement was so absolute she could hear the air-conditioning fans cycling gently in the ceiling vents. Even for the people in the room who would've heard the news elsewhere, it would be hard to accept such a thing happening without serious evidence. Especially to someone like Lung. He was the type of person who did that sort of thing to other people, not the one to whom it happened.
Assault spoke first. "We're certain of this." While it was phrased as a statement, she could hear the question mark dangling silently in the air.
She met his gaze squarely, or at least looked directly at his visor. "I personally viewed the body. His tattoos were all intact, but he was missing his right leg, and his left leg was all but gone as well. Remote took his right arm off above the elbow and his left at the shoulder, then carved his head off with what appears to be some kind of high-pressure water blade. Make no mistake: this wasn't an accidental kill in the heat of combat. This was an execution. Remote set out to murder him, designed the power armour to do just that, and carried the kill out by the numbers."
Triumph shook his head in confusion. "But he regenerates. Regenerated. How did Remote get through his scales and cut him fast enough to make it work?"
Emily had asked that question herself. Taking a small clear plastic tube from her pocket, she held it up to show everyone the contents. "This is a tungsten carbide projectile. The techs retrieved dozens of them from the site. We're not quite sure what propellant it uses, but from the penetration and damage, they hit like a fifty-cal." Another small container joined the first. "And this is a miniature tungsten carbide circular saw blade. It apparently came loose from whatever mechanism was powering it, but it still has fragments of Lung's DNA in between the teeth. The techs' best guess is that Remote had dozens or hundreds of these, working in series, possibly set into a chainsaw configuration."
"Well, that's not terrifying in the slightest." It seemed Clockblocker was recovering his sense of humour, as morbid as it was.
"Ah." Glory Girl put her hand up before anyone could yell at her teammate. "Not a chainsaw, ma'am. When I fought Remote, the suit had mechanical tentacles that wrapped around my legs. I've been thinking it might have tased me, but what if it also had these blades incorporated into the tentacles?"
Emily could quite easily envisage such a device wrapping around Lung's limbs and activating sawblades to slice through the toughest flesh and bone in seconds. She'd viewed Glory Girl's report, but hadn't made the connection to that point. "Thank you for that reminder. I'll let them know. In the meantime." She turned her head, getting the attention of each of the capes present. "As of right now, Remote is designated as an A-class threat. They are capable of constructing a suit to withstand the worst that Lung could dish out, so don't assume that any of your offensive powers will be enough to take them down. Likewise, don't assume that your protective powers will save you. If you're fighting Remote, maintain your distance, watch for the mechanical tentacles, and use containment foam if possible. Also, if you capture any of their working tech, get it to Armsmaster immediately, so he can work out how to counteract it. Questions?"
"Yeah." Assault had also evidently regained his mental balance. "Why the hell do stupidly powerful capes always end up working for the Empire or the ABB? Why not us?"
He was only saying it to relieve the tension, Emily knew, as the chuckles arose around the room. But this time, she had a reply for him. "Because if Remote is indeed Taylor Hebert, we're the ones who let Shadow Stalker bully her until she triggered, with Empire Eighty-Eight recruits-in-training all around her. Is it any wonder she jumped straight into the arms of the only people who were willing to recognise her plight and offer assistance?" By the time she finished talking, people were leaning back from her tone of savage sarcasm.
"But we couldn't have known—" That was Battery.
Emily cut her off with a slash of her hand. "We should have! We had one goddamn job, people! Making sure that capes don't hurt civilians. We already knew Stalker was prone to violence and had an anti-authority bias. She should've been under a microscope every second of the day! Her personal phone was full of goddamn text messages describing what she was doing to the Hebert girl! A master of subterfuge, she wasn't. Make no mistake: this is on us."
"Wasn't she supposed to have a PRT handler?" ventured Velocity. "What happened there?"
Emily growled briefly under her breath. "Yes. A little twit called Bright. What happened was that Bright had some sort of under-the-table never-spoken-of agreement with Stalker's goddamn school principal. It's going to be very hard to prove actual collusion, but what's clearly been going on is that Blackwell's been soft-pedalling any punishments for misbehaviour, and Bright's been stingy with information as to what she's been up to. All so Blackwell could keep the Ward stipend coming in to the school, and Bright could keep her cushy job without ever actually doing said goddamn job."
Aegis tentatively raised his hand. "So, have we heard anything new about where she might be? Shadow Stalker, I mean." Emily had already figured that out, but she appreciated the clarification.
"No." She hated to say it, but it was the truth. "However, and this does not leave this room, her escape was assisted from the outside. If any of you recall seeing PRT personnel coming in or out of the Wards area, even if you thought you recognised them, let me or Armsmaster know as soon as possible." She decided to leave out the information about a ranking PRT officer—the troopers didn't have access to the secondary ankle-cuff keys—being a potential mole. The last thing she wanted was for the Wards to give the game away by treating all PRT officers with suspicion.
"Wait." That was Vista. "I thought she busted out because she thought this Hebert girl was Remote, and wanted to take her down." She glanced around at the other Wards, who all nodded or made noises of agreement. "If someone helped her to escape, then what's their agenda?"
Mentally, Emily awarded the kid a gold star for clear thinking. "That's what we're trying to figure out. The texts from her phone indicate that she met up with someone for an unspecified task, but there are virtually zero usable details. They signed their texts with the initial 'C', which leaves a very small selection of possible names."
"Challenger, Circus, Coil, Clockblocker, Cricket and Crusader," recited Armsmaster, evidently reading off his HUD. "We can, of course, strike some names off that list immediately."
"Damn right," muttered Challenger. Clockblocker nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything.
Miss Militia frowned. "I doubt very much Cricket or Crusader would go against the Empire, especially considering this is Shadow Stalker. So, we're down to Coil and Circus."
Assault raised his chin. "I'm thinking Circus. She's a rooftop runner, and Coil's a mastermind of some sort. I just can't see him having her meet him directly for a job. He uses go-betweens all day long."
"Very well," decided Emily. "We'll go with the working theory that it's Circus. This is a problem, because if it is Circus, they won't be the person in charge."
Armsmaster nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. She's never come across as the mastermind. So, who hired her to break Stalker out of the PRT building? If we knew that, we could go a long way toward understanding the why."
Kid Win sat up in his chair. "I think I just figured out the 'why'."
Everyone turned to look at him. "Explain," Emily invited.
The young Tinker seemed to shrink down again. "Right, right, um. So, bear with me. If Remote is this Taylor Hebert, who Stalker really really hates, and she's now a big wheel in the Empire, Stalker's a ready-made weapon to use against Remote and the Empire. Not that she'd object to hurting the Empire on principle. Um."
Armsmaster made a go-on motion. "That's not news. Get to the point."
"Right, um, so when the Boardwalk incident happened, Taylor Hebert's father was one of the injured parties, yeah? And nobody's seen him since. Vicky, you said something about him being in a coma?"
Glory Girl nodded briefly. "Ames said he had brain damage, and she can't do brains."
"Okay, so Remote's really good at what she does, so the Empire's taking care of her dad, because they want to keep on her good side. Maybe even get Othala to look at him. But now we have our Mr X who wants to pry Remote away from the Empire, so they hire Circus to bust Shadow Stalker out of the PRT building, to snatch Mr Hebert from wherever the Empire's holding him, to use as leverage on Remote." Flushed and not a little breathless, Kid Win sat back again.
Emily blinked as the pieces of the puzzle slotted together. "I … think you may have actually figured it out," she said slowly. "Or rather, it's a compelling narrative." Which made it suspect, but she knew not to accept it—or reject it—just because it sounded good. Supporting evidence was key. Then something else occurred to her. "Glory Girl, you encountered Lung and Remote in Merchant territory, correct?"
"Ah, yes, ma'am." The teen hero looked cautiously at her. "I'd heard the Empire was doing something there."
"Exactly." Emily looked around at the costumed heroes in the room. "If the Wards common room had heard about it, then people outside this building had also heard about it. Our Mr X, to borrow Kid Win's phrasing, may well have tipped Lung off, if he didn't already know. Thus, the whole ambush and fight was also part of the plan, to delay Remote and the rest of the Empire contingent from returning to their base before the snatch and grab went through."
"That all hangs together," Miss Militia admitted. "A lot better than if we treated it as a bunch of unconnected incidents, to be honest. But that leaves the final question. Two questions. Who is Mr X, and where is Shadow Stalker?"
Armsmaster stirred. "I've been conferring with Dragon, and I think we can make an educated guess at both answers. Stalker failed in her job; we know this because Remote killed Lung the next night, and she's not tearing the city apart looking for her father. Which means Stalker was either captured or killed. Knowing the Empire, capture means being killed anyway, once they got what they wanted out of her. The chances are that they don't want the backlash of killing a Ward, so if her body hasn't been found yet, it never will be."
That drew a grimace out of Emily. Stalker had been a thoroughly unpleasant little shit, but she'd been a Ward all the same. "We'll start combing through the Jane Does in the morgue, to see if any fit her age and description. So, who do you think Mr X is?"
"Coil." He paused and looked around. "Let me expand. Coil's the only one I think who fits the parameters. It's not Lung, because Lung wants to kill her, probably because she's encountered him before and come out on top. He wouldn't have bothered trying to kidnap her father at the same time as the fight was going on if he was just trying to kill her. It's not Kaiser, by definition. I very much doubt that it's Skidmark. None of the smaller gangs have the chops to pull this sort of thing off. So, my conclusion is that it's Coil."
Well, at least he didn't try to drag it out for a big reveal. Emily considered the points that he'd put forward, and couldn't muster an argument against any of them. "Very well. We'll go with that, but if you turn up any evidence against it, let me know post-haste. The last thing we want is to head down the wrong rabbit-hole. Likewise, if you get even the slightest hint that Stalker is alive, I want to know." She began to stand. "I think we're done here."
Triumph raised his hand. "Uh, what do we do about the infiltration?"
What, indeed. "We'll probably find that it was carried out by Circus, in disguise, with ID supplied by Coil or another contact. I'll have the techs go over the security footage in detail, and work up protocols to prevent it from happening again." Standing all the way up, she gave the room a sharp nod. "Dismissed."
The sixty-four-million-dollar question, she mused as they filed out of the room, was whether Coil had managed to suborn one of her officers, or if he was one of her officers.
Neither prospect appealed.
<><>
Half an Hour Later
Downtown
Remote
I was deep in my power, scanning in all directions as well as downward (not something I tended to take notice of, as there were usually very few machines below ground level) for anything resembling a Bond villain base, when Crusader spoke. "I'm really sorry about your dad. We all are."
His voice registered on me, but I completed the scan before I dropped my power and turned to answer him. "Thanks, I appreciate it." I knew what he was referring to, of course. Othala's death had been a double tragedy; as well as her passing, I also had to deal with the fact that Dad would never get any better now. Also, that Mary was dead simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. "I just wish I'd seen them coming, or been a bit closer, or been a bit faster to get everyone to Panacea. Anything."
"Hey." He took his hand off the wheel to give my shoulder a quick squeeze. "Absolutely none of this is your fault. You're not to blame for asshole slant-eyes deciding to throw down with us. They came at us and paid the price. You totally saved Tammi and Max. If anyone's to blame for Othala dying, it's Glory Girl. She wasted a shitload of time."
"But she was our ticket to Panacea, so …" I shrugged. "What's it say about the so-called heroes that they don't even think about helping until it's one of their own on the line?" Because we both knew there wouldn't have been a hope in hell of getting that healing if we hadn't had Glory Girl as a bargaining chip.
"Nothing good," he agreed. "Sometimes I think the ones that call themselves heroes should take a good long look in the mirror, y'know? Because a lot of the time they just make matters worse. The way they bend over backward for minorities but come down hard on us right-thinking folk is downright criminal. But even with that, did you ever see a black hero? I never did. Shadow Stalker was just some degenerate criminal they shoved into the Wards to prove how forward thinking they are."
"I hear you." It was nothing but the truth. Grue and Skidmark were both black, and Lung had run a crew that was all Asian criminals. I had yet to see a black or Asian hero in the Protectorate or Wards (an actual hero, not a pretend one); Aegis didn't count, as he was Puerto Rican and nearly white. They just can't be trusted. I'd had personal experience with that.
As we cruised through the intersection near a skyscraper under construction, I dipped into my power for a couple of seconds, as I'd been doing all the way through the conversation. "… stop. Turn back."
"What? What have you seen?" But he was already hitting the indicator and prepping for a not-entirely-legal U-turn. However, this was going to take a little time, so I took over.
Assume positive control: All cars in contested traffic area.
Designate current vehicle 'Gloria'.
Adjust traffic pattern to accommodate U-turn with vehicle designated 'Gloria'.
Perform U-turn with 'Gloria'.
Involuntary vocalisation by Crusader: Startled yelp.
Analysis: Crusader was not expecting outside assistance.
Conclusion: A warning would be preferred, in future.
Analysis of traffic: Flowing smoothly.
Release vehicles to driver control.
Control released.
"You have the car," I stated. "We were in no danger."
"Jeez!" he complained, clutching the wheel with one hand and his chest with the other. "Do me a favour and warn a guy next time! I thought we were gonna die!"
"There was ample room. We were in no danger of collision. I had the other cars under control as well." I pointed at the ground next to the half-constructed skyscraper. "Also, I found the base. It's under there."
"What, you did? Really?" He stared in that direction. I wasn't sure what he was looking for; a concealed base would have a concealed entrance, by definition.
"Really." I was incapable of sarcasm while using my power, so I simply told the truth. "Keep going this way, then take the next right."
"Sure, I can do that. How big is it?" He followed my instructions; in the meantime, I took note of a police car some distance back that had changed direction to intercept us. They no doubt wished to remonstrate with Crusader over his sudden U-turn, but I had no desire to interact with the police at this time, so I turned off their engine and let them coast to a stop. By the time they got it started again, we would be too far away for them to reacquire us.
"I cannot gauge that except in the most general of terms. There are automated doors, as well as pumps and generators for lighting. In addition, there is an armoury holding a significant amount of weaponry. I count fifty assault rifles, two dozen hand grenades, several pistols, and fifty devices that I do not know the purpose of. Also, there appear to be odd devices built into the walls of the structure. Some kind of electromechanical switch."
"Okay, yeah, wow. That's gotta be Coil's base." Crusader kept driving, taking another right, which led toward an undercover parking structure. "Max is going to want to know about how to get in."
"I count two entry points, perhaps three." I pointed at the parking structure. "There is one under there, another in the construction site, and a potential third leading to a manhole on the street we just drove down. I suspect the third is a personal escape route for Coil." While I couldn't see the passageways, I could see door mechanisms, including latches and hinges. The more security that a location incorporated, the easier it was for me to divine its internal layout. Had I not been immersed in my power, I may have found that to be humorous.
"That's useful as hell, sure." He drove into the parking structure, manoeuvred around, then came out again. "What about those switches? Any idea of what that might be?"
"It is not something I am familiar with. Perhaps extra lighting. An underground base with no access to natural light must require considerable illumination." It was the best explanation I could come up with.
"Yeah, I suppose. Think we could get away with me sending a ghost or two down to scope the place out?" Expression: hopeful.
I shook my head definitively. "Not a good idea. Kaiser wants Coil entirely unaware that we have pinned down his location, until it is too late for him to do anything about it."
"Okay, yeah, good point." He turned the car away from the location. "Doing well, though. We found him on the first try."
I dropped my power and felt a tide of elation sweep through me. We'd found the bastard! "Haha, yeah. Wasn't totally random, though. Like I told Max, the ownership of all this area is so convoluted that if you were looking to see who had title to any specific patch of real estate, you'd be there for a year. It'd be like locating a needle inside a haystack inside another haystack. For someone like Coil, it's the most natural place to try to hide." I gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "All I had to do was try to climb inside his skin."
"Eurgh." He grinned while making the noise. "That sounds disgusting."
"Which is why I need about ten showers at least when we get back, so there's that." I sighed, recalling why we were going after Coil in the first place. "I just wish this hadn't been necessary, that's all."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Don't we all."
<><>
Director Emily Piggot
"You've got something for me?" Give me some good news, she didn't quite say.
The tech seemed to hear it anyway as he turned the screen toward her. "Yes, ma'am. We picked out three service staff who were in that area during the time period that you gave us. Each of them apparently signed in with legitimate ID … except that while two of them were actually legit, the third one was using the ID of someone who's on vacation in Florida."
"Did you verify that she's actually in Florida?" She knew the question would need to be asked.
"Yes, ma'am. Looked up the name of the hotel, called the front desk, and left a code phrase with the guy. Then I rang her phone and had her go down to the front desk and ask him for the code phrase. She's in Florida."
"Good." It was so satisfying to have competent assistance. Unlike that Bright idiot. Emily was actively looking forward to that particular exit interview. "So, what do you have on the footage for the impostor?"
"Unfortunately, nothing that facial rec can really grab onto," the tech confessed. He turned his screen to show Emily what he meant. On screen after screen, the slim figure of the infiltrator showed up, but always managed to obscure their features when they came in line with a camera. "But we do have something else."
Emily glowered at the image on the screen. She'd been right; even without a usable face, that was Circus, sure enough. The body types were identical, no matter whether they were wearing a harlequin outfit or PRT coveralls. "Talk to me."
"When she went on vacation, she was taken off the roster. Her ID should have triggered an alert, but it didn't, because someone put her back on the roster, and then took her off it again after the drop-off was made. Then they scrubbed the roster change." The tech held up a triumphant finger as Emily went to speak. "But. Five years ago, in Chicago, a bunch of techs were caught changing roster times to pull off a complicated scam. So a systemwide update got put into place, where roster changelogs, and the system IDs of the people making them, go into a read-only file. And that file has the system ID of the person who changed logs, both times." He hit a key, and a single line popped up.
Emily's eyes traced along the length of it, and came to an alphanumeric ID number. "That's the system ID?"
"Correct, ma'am. I don't have the clearance to open it. That's officers and above only."
"Understood. Out of the chair, please."
"Ma'am."
The tech vacated his seat and Emily lowered herself into it. She double-clicked the ID designator; sure enough, it popped up a request for her clearance code. Checking to make sure the tech wasn't watching, she typed it in.
The name that opened up on the screen made her want to bang her head on the desk. I knew it. I goddamn knew it. But she hadn't, not really. She just wasn't surprised at all.
CALVERT, THOMAS. STRIKE SQUAD COMMANDER.
I've got you now, you bastard.
End of Part Twenty-Six
Superflousbrowser
Don’t mind me, I’m just here for the Lewds.
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2023
- Messages
- 85
I'm curious if Lisa's escape plan is joining the E88.
Ack
(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2014
- Messages
- 7,270
Brian would be hella upset with her if it was.
Impartial Panic
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Nov 22, 2014
- Messages
- 877
Probably wait till the E88 sacks Coil's base, grab all her stuff and either find a car or bus to nope outta Brockton Bay.
Even if they don't get Coil in the attack he'll have bigger problems to deal with than trying to find some teenaged girl in the middle of nowhere.
Jade Isentry
Unshakable
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2016
- Messages
- 262
Unless it happened like this: The Empire attacks them and has them on the ropes, just like they were speculating might happen. (e.g. A Hookwolf-breaking-down-the-door sort of scenario). They have the undersiders cornered and on the ropes, and having no love for blacks, they are clearly going to make short work of Brian, and his fate looks sealed. Lisa then saves him by bargaining with them for a few things in exchange for her joining them, those few things including the condition that they let Brian and his sister leave town unharmed and unmolested, and consider them off limits in the future as long as they in turn don't knowingly do anything against the Empire.
In that scenario, Brian would hate it, but almost certainly wouldn't hold it against her.
Neko Tamo
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Jan 13, 2021
- Messages
- 406
First off really happy to see the update, even if there were six times as many I would not be sated, the fic is just that good as I outlined before. And really unique given the subject matter it covers and how realistically it does so, without really strawmanning anyone or making them juggle idiot balls.
Anyway to get into it some impressions:
Damn, that's quite the promotion even considering the merit that inspired it. Feels too much too soon honestly, she jumped what, three spots up in the hierarchy all at once? At least.
And she's young, which is a detriment for leadership. We know Taylor's good for it, but she still has to go against the grain to prove it.
Still it happened so what does it imply? She is definitely in Kaiser's good book. He did like her from the start given how he spared her father despite the pragmatic option being against that outcome. And now all this happened and she went above and beyond, killing Lung and ofc saving his own life.
Maybe I'll have more thoughts later but their relationship is one to keep an eye on for multiple reasons, it surely is going places.
And love this, a very plausible mistake for Coil to make. He does things in disposable timelines and if there is no immediate fallout he keeps them. But that exposes him to this exact scenario, long-term consequences caused by things he didn't know. After all he is knowledgeable, not omniscient, so traps like this one can totally fuck him.
It could well be that the Empire assaults his secret base, he drops that timeline thinking he is safe in his civilian identity and then Piggot nabs him. This is actually a quite likely outcome.
Though it is possible that the highly conspicuous ride Justin and T-bird took has already informed the professional paranoiac that his lair has been blown. I mean seriously once you learn a thing like that you make no obvious moves, and if you need a second look you do it later, in another car.
But hey, mistakes happen and no one is perfect. Taylor must have blown all her competence on finding the bastard in the first place
I think it's possible. In my read Lisa is selfish and amoral enough to do it if it gets her free of Coil. And even if she doesn't join outright she has good reason to assist them as the Empire currently isn't aware of Coil's power and as such he stands good odds of escaping to remain a nuisance and lesser odds of just winning. These latter outcomes would be bad for her obv so she has reason to join or play ball.
That said I don't see her as mean enough to throw Brian under the bus. At the very least she would tell him to run, at most negotiate a deal for him as a signing bonus as someone suggested.
Anyway great stuff as always Ack, most definitely can't wait for more. And yet paradoxically I don't want to see the end of this, I want it to keep going for a long time because it's just that good.
Anyway to get into it some impressions:
Damn, that's quite the promotion even considering the merit that inspired it. Feels too much too soon honestly, she jumped what, three spots up in the hierarchy all at once? At least.
And she's young, which is a detriment for leadership. We know Taylor's good for it, but she still has to go against the grain to prove it.
Still it happened so what does it imply? She is definitely in Kaiser's good book. He did like her from the start given how he spared her father despite the pragmatic option being against that outcome. And now all this happened and she went above and beyond, killing Lung and ofc saving his own life.
Maybe I'll have more thoughts later but their relationship is one to keep an eye on for multiple reasons, it surely is going places.
And love this, a very plausible mistake for Coil to make. He does things in disposable timelines and if there is no immediate fallout he keeps them. But that exposes him to this exact scenario, long-term consequences caused by things he didn't know. After all he is knowledgeable, not omniscient, so traps like this one can totally fuck him.
It could well be that the Empire assaults his secret base, he drops that timeline thinking he is safe in his civilian identity and then Piggot nabs him. This is actually a quite likely outcome.
Though it is possible that the highly conspicuous ride Justin and T-bird took has already informed the professional paranoiac that his lair has been blown. I mean seriously once you learn a thing like that you make no obvious moves, and if you need a second look you do it later, in another car.
But hey, mistakes happen and no one is perfect. Taylor must have blown all her competence on finding the bastard in the first place
I think it's possible. In my read Lisa is selfish and amoral enough to do it if it gets her free of Coil. And even if she doesn't join outright she has good reason to assist them as the Empire currently isn't aware of Coil's power and as such he stands good odds of escaping to remain a nuisance and lesser odds of just winning. These latter outcomes would be bad for her obv so she has reason to join or play ball.
That said I don't see her as mean enough to throw Brian under the bus. At the very least she would tell him to run, at most negotiate a deal for him as a signing bonus as someone suggested.
Anyway great stuff as always Ack, most definitely can't wait for more. And yet paradoxically I don't want to see the end of this, I want it to keep going for a long time because it's just that good.
Jade Isentry
Unshakable
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2016
- Messages
- 262
Possible, but unlikely, I believe. They weren't actually very conspicuous at all. The conspicuous things they did amount to:Though it is possible that the highly conspicuous ride Justin and T-bird took has already informed the professional paranoiac that his lair has been blown. I mean seriously once you learn a thing like that you make no obvious moves, and if you need a second look you do it later, in another car.
But hey, mistakes happen and no one is perfect. Taylor must have blown all her competence on finding the bastard in the first place
1) Making an illegal u-turn
This of course is not actually conspicuous in any way that matters. Any random joe might do it. It's only minorly conspicuous to the cops, who Tay took care of handily.
2) Briefly pulling into Coil's Base's random parking ramp disguise like any old lost-in-town trying-to-find-their-way driver who needed to turn around, and wanted to do so legally, so as not to be conspicuous to the cops.
The only real way that that might tip Coil off would be if he had a camera(s) in the parking garage that also managed to get clear enough views of their faces (or any other things) that could identify them as their cape identities, AND he specifically was examining that particular moment of the security footage (which he has no reason to, and which any security people he has watching the camera feeds have no reason to bring to his attention).
Ack
(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2014
- Messages
- 7,270
If anything, he'd be going, "Hah! They're so close and they have no idea!"
Neko Tamo
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Jan 13, 2021
- Messages
- 406
Well we have the OP stonewalling my line of thinking so it doesn't matter, seems you're right.
But I still feel compelled to say that this is Coil, Bond-villain wannabe. I would be very surprised if he doesn't have cameras on all the surrounding streets to his compound and probably even a wider net. Additionally Gloria is a rather conspicuous convertible IIRC, so they can easily see the passengers. I'm not sure if he had tats find out Justin's identity yet but he certainly knows how Taylor looks like. And then this highly suspicious vehicle does a wild U-turn out of the blue next to his bunker and proceeds to exactly circle it.
I'm not saying that's a guaranteed bust or anything but I would not be at all surprised if they were made either.
Last edited:
Sto Odin
Only a very distant relation
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2022
- Messages
- 119
I wonder if Kaiser approved of her suggestion to move away from the actual Nazis and towards a more American version of white supremacy. This could be a strong signal to Gesellschaft that E88 wants to be more independent of them. Would be master villains tend to have tense relationships.
Hookwolf wouldn't actually object to that although Max may not know that... or not have known it when he made the decision anyway.
Ack
(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2014
- Messages
- 7,270
Convertibles can have the top up as well, you know. They didn't circle all the way around, and the U-turn was about two and a half blocks away from the base.
The problem with having lots of security cameras, is for each bunch of screens, you need more people watching them to get useful information.
Pretty sure that nowhere in the canonical description of his base was there a mention of a ton of security monitors.
Amy is also improved, having been moved off her personal slippery slope by Scapegoat (who is currently harbouring her massive crush on GG, but considers it perfectly normal, given that he's a teenage boy and she's a smokin' teenage girl).
Jade Isentry
Unshakable
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2016
- Messages
- 262
Indeed, which was another one of my points. In order for them to get made, Coil's security team would need reason to bring that specific moment of security footage to his attention, which they don't have.
Jade Isentry
Unshakable
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2016
- Messages
- 262
Better late than never in this case. Right?
Part Twenty-Seven: Two Lines, No Waiting
New
Ack
(Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2014
- Messages
- 7,270
The Slippery Slope
Part Twenty-Seven: Two Lines, No Waiting
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[A/N 2: Reminder for the reader that Taylor is a member of the Empire Eighty-Eight in this fic, and may express racist views that the author does not share.]
Monday Morning, February 21, 2011
Coil
Thomas Calvert was in a bad place, and he knew it.
Tattletale's warning, though unwelcome, had been timely. No matter how much glee she'd clearly derived from it, he didn't think she'd been lying. If Remote had the ability to sense and control the machinery in his base from range—and her consistent foiling of his abduction and assassination plans certainly bore that conclusion out—then the Empire would know about its location sooner rather than later. Worse, they'd be able to force entry, depending on just how powerful her machinery-control powers were.
Of course, once they got inside, it might not go so easily for them. If she had a limit on the number of machines she could affect, then fifty mercenaries, all with assault rifles, might just overwhelm her capabilities.
Or it might not. Thomas didn't feel like betting on that outcome.
He would've gone to work as normal, but he had no desire to find himself stuck in the PRT building if his other timeline went down. So he'd called in a sick day and set things up to work from home. Remote might be shit-hot at screwing over armed gunmen and cars and suchlike, but telling one house in the suburbs from another was an entirely different matter.
This didn't mean, however, that he was going to simply roll out the red carpet for anyone who got into his base. He had a lot of supplies in stock, and more than a few of the mercenaries had practical skills useful in setting up booby-traps, hopefully ones which wouldn't register as machinery to Remote. Pulling up his most up-to-date database on the Empire capes and their powers and weaknesses, he set his men to work.
Sub-Basement Under Medhall Building
Remote
There was a map of Downtown stuck up on the whiteboard, with the outer limits of Coil's base drawn in on it, as best I could figure them out. Tammi and I had checked up on the specs of Endbringer bunkers, and we'd agreed it pretty well matched up. Exactly how Coil had managed to pull that off, I neither knew nor cared.
By the time we were done with him, the only use he'd have for a hole in the ground would be for someone to bury him in it.
Next to it was my best guess for a plan of the base itself, working off placement of doors and light fittings, and those electromechanical switches that were all around the perimeter. I doubted it was perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it was definitely a good start. Alex seemed to consider it a worthwhile endeavour, anyway.
"There's a lot we don't know about Coil," I began, standing up in front of everyone with a pointer in my hand, like I actually knew what I was doing. "Who he really is, if he has powers and what they might be, stuff like that. But we know where his base is, and I can get us in at any time. The trouble is, what he's also got is a bunch of mercenaries, and he's supposedly armed them with lasers capable of cutting through steel."
"Christ all-fucking-mighty, girlie, we know all this shit." Bradley waved his hand impatiently. "Fuckin' get on with it."
"Calm down, will you?" Alex still had dark circles under his eyes, though they weren't as prominent as they'd once been. He was also solidly in my camp, even more so since I'd taken Lung apart like a Porterhouse steak. "Are you the one with Thinker powers in the room? Are you the one who found where that lanky piece of shit hangs his hat? No? Then shut the hell up and let her run the briefing her way."
Tammi nodded in agreement, muttering, 'got a hot date with your right hand there, Hooksy?' before returning her attention to me. "Go ahead. We're listening."
"Hookwolf's right." I briefly enjoyed the what the fuck? expression on Bradley's face before I kept talking. "We do already know all this shit. But what we don't know is what kind of anti-intrusion measures he's got in his base that don't rely on moving parts. There's a bunch of electromechanical switches all the way through the place I still don't know the function of. I honestly don't even know the exact layout; I can guess a hell of a lot, but until I get eyes in there, it's guesswork at best. And most importantly, while I know where the armoury is, and how many guns and grenades are in there, I don't know how many capes Coil's hiring on. Because my power might be good, but it's not that damn good."
After a few seconds, Justin spoke up. "So … this isn't going to be a rousing speech about how we're going to storm Coil's base like taking San Juan Hill?"
I shook my head. "No. Because we're not idiots here. Lung was an idiot who believed in charging full speed ahead and overwhelming his opposition. Everyone here knows where that got him. I've given you all the facts so we can figure out what we are going to do. The way I see it, we've got two options." I paused and looked at Mr Anders in his wheelchair. "Sir, if we gear up and roll on into his base, we'll totally get him. But depending on how much prep he's done, our people are going to get hurt. Some of us might even die. Or, there's another thing I can do, but it's a lot less satisfying and a lot less exciting, and has a major flaw."
Mr Anders lightly grasped his chin in his thumb and forefinger. "Before I make a judgement on that, I'd be interested in hearing what this other thing is."
Mr Fliescher nodded. "I, also."
"It's simple." I gestured at the vague plan of the base. "He's got entrances here, here and here. Air circulation fans, plus what I strongly suspect are air intakes and filtration equipment, here. I just … lock everything down. The doors all lock solid, the fans stop, nothing circulates, the lights all go off. Him and his people are stuck in the dark, no way to get out. They won't suffocate, not for a while, depending on the actual air volume in there, but it's gonna get fucking stuffy, with zero circulation. The flaw is, I can only maintain this sort of lockdown while I'm awake, which means if I'm going to kill them all that way, I'm going to need a lot of coffee. So, I'm open to ideas."
"Okay, yeah, that would be legitimately terrifying," Justin allowed. "How about this? You soften 'em up like this for about five or six hours, then turn some of the lights back on and I send my ghosts down there after them."
Tammi half-raised her hand. "Or, you could open a door just far enough to send in half a dozen of your little chopper-drones with cameras and tungsten ammo, then stick an antenna through and close the door again. And Crusader's ghosts can be backup."
"The fuck?" Bradley laughed harshly, mockingly. "What's all this 'playing it safe' bullshit? I say we go in there and rip the shit out of Coil and his stupid fuckin' mercenaries. String him up by the guts on the flagpole in front of the Mayor's office. Show everyone in town that nobody fucks with us."
"Yeah!" Lars nodded in agreement, spinning a ball of air on his palm. "We're the fuckin' Empire. This is what we do!"
"It used to be what we did, until Coil set Lung up to ambush us, and we lost Othala." I didn't mention Mr Anders' injury; everyone knew about it, and drawing attention to it would've been in bad taste. "We don't have that safety net anymore, and I'm pretty sure Panacea's just about run out of patience with us."
Tammi and Justin chuckled at the weak joke, and Mr Anders smiled briefly, but that was it. Tough room.
I took a deep breath and went on. "Coil considers himself a mastermind, so do you honestly think he would've set something like this in motion without preparing for the chance we might invade his base sometime? They always say, 'never take on a Tinker in his base' but I'm pretty sure it also applies to Thinkers and anyone else who's had years to set up their secret underground lair."
Alabaster shrugged. "So I'll take point. It's not like I've never been blown up before."
He either just wasn't getting it, or he was determined not to get it. "Off the top of my head, I can think of four different ways for him to remove you from consideration without using mechanical devices. Some of these ways might even kill you outright; I don't know, because I'm not an expert on powers. But if I knew for a fact he was fully aware of my powers, and he'd had time to plan against them … I'd definitely be wary as fuck."
Everyone in Brockton Bay, and a few people outside it, knew what Alabaster's powers were. He'd demonstrated them enough on camera, usually while killing people. If Coil didn't have a full read on them by now, he'd have to be deliberately ignoring all Empire Eighty-Eight footage, and I didn't think he was that much of an idiot.
(Some might've said he was an idiot for attacking us through Lung like that, but he'd made a reasonable effort to cover his tracks, and he'd succeeded in hurting us badly, so I was withholding judgement there.)
Alabaster gave me a dirty look, like I was deliberately trying to spoil his fun. "Look, I've been doing this for a lot longer than you have. I know what I'm doing. Back off, okay?"
"I get it, I do. You know what you're doing." I made my tone agreeable. "But you know who else knows what they're doing? Coil. Right now, he's got us on the back foot. He doesn't want us thinking. He wants us charging face-first into his countermeasures." I didn't add 'just like you're trying to do', because that would've been both insulting and self-evident.
Mr Anders cleared his throat. "Remote makes some very good points. This is not a time to assume that jumping in feet-first is the ideal tactic to win the day. I suggest we mix and match our strategies; Remote opens one of their doors and infiltrates with one or more drones, then shuts the base down hard. Once she's gained all the intel she can from the drones, Crusader sends his ghosts in. At the point of maximum confusion, Remote opens the doors again, and Hookwolf, Stormtiger, Cricket and Alabaster roll in and mop up with extreme prejudice."
Alabaster paused. "Wait, so she won't be stomping in with her fake Tinkertech powersuit?"
Although he hadn't addressed me directly, I shook my head. "No. Victor and I need to rework it now that Lung's dead. No need for the water cooling system, for one thing. It'll just be my drones in there."
"Well, okay then." Stormtiger nodded. "I do like the idea of mopping up a bunch of assholes who have no fucking idea what's going on. What about Coil, boss? What's your thinking on what we do to him once we've got him? Straight-up gank, or something special?"
Mr Anders smiled coldly. "I'm thinking that it's been a very long time since I performed an Iron Cross on someone. He's definitely earned the privilege."
I frowned slightly, not sure what he was talking about. "Iron Cross? What's that?"
Alex's smile matched Mr Anders'. "A metal spike up through the anus, all the way to shoulder level, then two spikes branch off from it to left and right, pushing the arms out to their maximum extension before they burst out through the hands. Then the original spike continues growing upward through the neck until it punches out through the top of the head. If done carefully, the recipient is alive to the end. Though in great pain, of course."
"Hmm." I tilted my head and nodded judiciously, thinking over what had happened to Othala, Mr Anders, and Tammi. "Yeah, I definitely think he's earned it."
Tammi grinned and gave me a high-five.
PRT ENE Building, Conference Room A
Director Emily Piggot
"Thank you all for coming. This is a code purple situation."
Emily pressed the button to bring the images up on the screen. Raising the laser pointer, she played the red dot over the left-hand image, a blurry photo of a skinny man in a black-and-white morph suit.
"We've ascertained that Coil is the one responsible for springing Shadow Stalker from the PRT building, with the assistance of Circus, possibly for the purpose of performing a hostile extraction with Danny Hebert. She still hasn't surfaced, and there's been no underworld announcement about it, so the chances are something went wrong and the Empire got their hands on her. Which means her body's probably in a shallow grave somewhere." The laser pointer moved to the other image, a uniformed PRT officer. "For those who don't know him, this is Thomas Calvert, PRT strike squad commander. As far as we can tell, he's Coil."
Armsmaster, of course, didn't react. But most of the other Protectorate capes in the room did, along with the PRT officers. Some were shocked, some were just surprised, while a few nodded thoughtfully. It seemed to Emily that Calvert had not made a good impression with those few.
Assault spoke up first, his normally irreverent tone absent for once. "Director, how certain are we of this identification?"
It was a good question. The PRT had had their witch-hunts over the years, and the fallout had never been pretty. Accusing a member of the PRT or Protectorate of cape-related crimes was apparently an ongoing hobby among a certain set of the online community; if they could make anything stick even temporarily, reputations might easily be irreparably tarnished.
Emily flicked the pointer back to the image of Coil. "Physically, they've got the same body type. The key to Stalker's ankle monitor was delivered to her via Circus; the only cape gang leader who would have believably been paying them to get Stalker out is Coil. And Circus used credentials that were unlocked using Calvert's clearances to get in and out. Those credentials were not only unlocked, but then relocked again afterward to cover their tracks."
Battery took up her husband's line of questioning. "And what if this is a double ploy, to throw suspicion on Calvert at the same time as getting Stalker out? It wouldn't be the first time that clearances have been compromised. He may well be innocent in all this, even if he does have the same body type."
Armsmaster cleared his throat. "We checked his computer logs for that timeframe, as well as security camera footage. He was at his desk, performing other routine tasks, logged in with his credentials. If someone else had tried to log into the system using those credentials, it would've thrown up flags on his computer and elsewhere. The footage shows him entering and leaving his office, and his car was in the underground parking lot while all this was going on."
"So, yes," Emily said bluntly. "He's under strong suspicion of being Coil. He called in sick earlier this morning; whether that's because he's actually sick, he suspects something, or for some other reason, we're still looking into. If he is Coil, we have no idea where his base might be, or where he keeps his mercenaries when they're not out committing crimes for him. But we definitely want to talk to him. Whether that turns out to be an interview or an interrogation depends entirely on his willingness to talk to us. We will be asking him about any knowledge of Shadow Stalker's whereabouts."
"Huh." Velocity leaned forward slightly and took a good look at both images. "Well, okay then. If Calvert really is Coil, it might explain a lot of those little problems we've been having over the last few years. What's the plan?"
Armsmaster took over again. "His residence of record is in the suburbs. We're currently combing through his financials to see if he's got some other property he can retreat to, but nothing conclusive has shown up yet. For now, the plan is to treat him like any other suspect: we get the warrant, then raid his place and take him into custody if he's there. Full search of physical property and computer equipment. What happens after that will be entirely up to him."
Triumph was new to the Protectorate proper, so he understandably took his time asking a question. "Uh …"
"Yes?" Emily gave him a sharp 'if you're going to say something, just say it' glance.
He took a quick breath. "What happens if Calvert meets our guys at the door, comes quietly, and he's been careful enough to hide all the evidence offsite? What if we've got nothing on him, and he denies everything? Do we still assume he's guilty and keep pushing?"
Miss Militia cleared her throat. "I've seen that approach before. It's what the smart ones, and the ones who think they're smart, go with. But what they don't take into account is how we keep investigating, no matter what excuses they give. He'll have to work really hard to explain the matter of the credentials to us, and in the meantime we're digging through all the records for signs he might have tampered with them."
"His strike squad," commented Major Davis. "What's happening with them?"
"On administrative leave as of this morning," Emily said immediately. "We'll be going through their records as well. No stone unturned. While Calvert might be able to present himself as being pure as the driven snow, there might be something we can link back to him." She took a deep breath. "Make no mistake: no matter how this turns out, this is going to be a huge black mark on everyone's record, especially mine, when it comes out that a serving PRT officer was moonlighting as a supervillain for years. So it's up to us to dig out every last trace of this man's corruption and put him behind bars where he belongs. And we're going to do it by the book. Does anyone not understand this?"
Assault tipped her a mock salute. "Message received and understood, ma'am. One more question, though."
She nodded toward him. "Yes?"
"The Empire Eighty-Eight." His words quieted the murmured conversations that had started up around the room. "Over the last four days, they've killed Skidmark, Oni Lee, and Lung. If there was a time for them to make a big push, this would be it. Is this something we're doing anything about?"
"We're monitoring the situation." Emily knew the sentence meant little without context, so she kept talking. "There's no buildup of gang strength anywhere. If anything, their activity has dropped way off. Armsmaster?"
The armoured hero cleared his throat. "Yes. Our CIs inside the Empire are saying something fairly drastic happened during the first fight with Lung where Oni Lee and Skidmark died, but nobody's quite sure what it is. We're digging into that as well. Once we get a clear picture of the outcome of the fight, it may throw a light on their current intentions."
Assault snorted. "I will bet any of you here and now, their intentions are nothing good."
"Granted." Emily nodded in full agreement. "But whatever they intend to do, they are currently doing very little, which gives us the chance to deal with the internal threat. Once Coil is no longer an issue, we can focus all our attention on them." She smiled grimly. "They may well end up regretting the fact that they've removed all their rivals from the board."
Challenger cleared her throat. "While we're talking about the Empire, do we know anything more about Taylor Hebert or her father? And do we have any actual evidence linking her to being Remote?"
"Negative on both counts." Emily wasn't happy she had to say it, but it was true. "There's just a whisper from a CI that Victor's been building Remote's armour, or assisting in its construction. Also, Othala might be one of the casualties, given how she hasn't been seen at all since."
Assault raised his chin. "If this is true, the Empire's going to be changing things up a bit, not necessarily for the better. Also, I didn't think Victor was a Tinker."
"If anyone could assist a Tinker, it would be him." Velocity shrugged. "Even if it's just basic fabrication support. I'm more worried by how they put together a suit in less than a day, and killed Lung with it. This means Remote could build a suit to target any one of us, on basically zero notice."
"It's not quite as dire as that," Armsmaster declared. "Based on observations taken at the scene, I think I've got the water jet figured out. Remote had a water-based cooling system in the suit to absorb heat from Lung's fire. When enough of it had boiled, she used the steam to project the unboiled water in a cutting jet. Basically, she used his own power against him. Fortunately, I don't think many of us have powers which can be turned back on us so lethally."
"Well, that's good to hear." Despite the gravity of the situation, Emily found it grimly amusing how Lung had been well and truly hoist on his own petard. "Does anyone have any more questions before we bring this meeting to an end?"
"Ah, yeah." Triumph seemed to be gathering confidence, given he'd spoken up twice so far. "I know Glory Girl's in the Wards now … but has anyone actually asked New Wave if they know anything about what happened that night? Because if they have, I never heard about it."
Silence fell across the conference room, broken only by the subliminal whisper of the air-conditioning system and the tiny buzz of the pink-noise generators. Emily glanced from point to point, watching for the 'oh yeah, I took care of that' expression, only to see other people searching for the same expression.
Armsmaster took a deep breath. "I'll put Aegis onto it."
"You do that. And Triumph? Well done." Emily gave the rest of the room a general nod. "Meeting's over. Dismissed."
As everyone stood up, not quite surging to escape the room but nobody willing to hang back either, Emily reflected on how she was ultimately at fault for the lapse. Someone should've checked up with New Wave before this point, and if nobody else had brought it up, she should've been that 'someone'. But, like everyone else, she'd seen Glory Girl as being separate from New Wave, and entirely failed to make that connection.
Assumptions. They'll bite you in the ass every time.
She could only hope the delay wouldn't get anyone else hurt or killed.
In the Back of a Van
Remote
I wore the basic armour that Victor had fashioned for me. Not because I anticipated having to go into battle, but because it was relatively light, and would be useful if I had to enter combat unexpectedly. My CQC lessons with Peter had given me a little skill, but against a grown man, the protection and strength granted to me by the armour would be much more useful.
Ahead of me, as we neared Coil's base, my power detected more and more of the anomalous subterranean machinery that had first clued me in to its location. "They are aware of something going on," I said to Victor. "There are fifty armed people moving around within the base. The armoury has three rifles and three pistols left in it. These may be spares. I do not detect any armed men watching us, but they may have left their firearms behind."
Gesture: nod.
Analysis: acknowledgement of words.
"Good work. I'll let everyone know to be on their toes." He lifted his radio microphone to his mouth and spoke into it.
I continued to monitor the machinery I was aware of. Victor and I had performed a little training so that I could recognise particular mechanisms; I knew guns, and I knew doors. I was still unsure about the electromechanical switches lining the walls.
All the mercenaries were carrying grenades. I didn't mind grenades. They only went off when I let them.
Victor received a message on the radio, and lowered the microphone.
Verbalisation: sigh.
Analysis: Unhappiness with current situation.
"Problem?" I asked.
"About what we expected. Hookwolf and his people want to go in now. Something about 'loving a challenge'."
Analysis of tone: not urgent.
Conclusion: problem not severe yet.
"I was given field command." I looked at Victor. "Are they likely to respect that?" The plan was much more likely to be successful if they were.
Gesture: shaken head.
Expression: uncertainty.
Conclusion: problem may become severe.
In my estimation, Hookwolf saw me as a mere girl who had no place giving orders to 'proper' members of the Empire (that is, himself). Krieg, I suspected, was unhappy with my intent to move away from the German roots of the Empire Eighty-Eight, and was choosing not to support me against Hookwolf's insubordination. Mr Anders wanted me to show my mettle, and was thus giving me the chance to prove myself.
In other words, I was on my own.
I would succeed. The plan would go ahead.
"Tell them to hold until the green light is given. My aerial units will be shooting at anything that moves. I would prefer to avoid friendly-fire incidents, but I will not be holding back on the possibility of someone ignoring orders and is in the line of fire."
They had all seen the result of my takedown of Lung. The auxiliary units had torn great chunks out of the regenerating cape; even Hookwolf's metal armour would not be enough to save him. Stormtiger and Cricket would be shredded in seconds. Alabaster … as I had stated earlier, I did not know enough about powers to determine if he would die or be fine. Personally, I gave it a fifty-fifty coin flip.
Victor turned to look at me. "Damn. Okay. Here's hoping they realise you're not bluffing."
Tone: uncertainty.
Conclusion: thinks they might indeed try to call my bluff.
"If they still believe my words to be a bluff after everything that has happened, then they deserve whatever they get." I was telling the exact truth. The only thing worse than open enemies were those who gained their victim's confidence and learned their secrets before stabbing them in the back. Hookwolf was attempting to undermine my authority even now; much more of this and his status as a liability would begin to outweigh his utility as an asset.
"I get it, I do."
Gesture: cautious nod.
Analysis: understands my motivations and agrees with them.
Conclusion: will support me against Hookwolf's faction.
I did not smile. While I was capable of the act when under the influence of my power, Rune had informed me that the resultant expression was 'creepy as fuck', adding 'please don't do it again'. So instead, I gave Victor a firm nod in reply. "Opening doors. Deploying aerial units."
Victor and I had assembled twenty aerial units, all fitted with IR cameras. I also had two crawler units with antennas, and trailing cords that led outside in case the base was Faraday-shielded. I did not need the connectivity to control the units, but it was useful to know where they were going and what was in the way. All incoming footage would be displayed on screens for me to observe, and recorded for posterity.
There were two main entrances, and one I had decided was a way for Coil to enter and leave surreptitiously. I was keeping that one in reserve; if we were roadblocked with the other two entrances, it would be a useful way to flank the enemy. The other two, however, were fair game.
One was built into the wall of a parking garage, while the other had a padlocked hatchway set into a concrete slab. Assume positive control: door. Assume positive control: padlock. Assume positive control: hatch.
The door was easy enough to open, but while the padlock also unfastened itself, the chain links still held the hatchway closed. Loose metal links refused to give me enough purchase to pull it free. One of my aerial units swooped into position and loosed a barrage of tungsten darts; they struck the chain, ripping the mild steel apart with ease. Freed, the hatch swung open under my direction.
By now, the alarm would be going out. I noted the mercenaries were ceasing their seemingly random movements and starting to move toward the entrances. That was when I shut the base down; all internal doors closed and locked, the lights went out, and the air circulation stopped.
At the same time, I flew my aerial units down into the passageway thus revealed, followed by the crawler unit, which launched itself off the top of the steps at speed. Victor had constructed it to be robust, so the hard landing at the bottom didn't faze it at all. Accelerating on its caterpillar tracks, spooling out cable behind it, it raced off down the corridor.
At the other end of the base, matters were much simpler. The door unlocked and opened, and my aerial units buzzed inside, with the crawler unit faithfully dogging their trail. When the inner door rumbled aside, there was a mercenary there, waiting with his rifle raised. He got off a burst of fire that damaged one of my units before three tungsten darts punched in through his faceplate and out through the back of his helmet.
I brought the damaged unit to a hover above the crawler unit; its camera had been shot away, but there was nothing wrong with its weaponry. The crawler, meanwhile, had a perfectly serviceable camera, so it could easily spot for the aerial unit. The other nine units flew on, zeroing in on the mercenaries.
I was off to a good start.
Coil
In the 'base' timeline, Thomas heard a cut-off radio transmission. Half a syllable, no more, but it told him a lot. His plan of the base showed the exterior doors opening and closing in the same way that his men's weapons and vehicles had malfunctioned during previous attempts to capture or kill Taylor Hebert; that is, utterly ignoring every attempt to force them to work correctly.
His strategy of only hiring unpowered or low-powered mercenaries, brilliant though he'd considered it at the time, was clearly backfiring on him in a big way. For his men to be at all effective, they needed to have guns; against this girl's powers, those were worse than useless. He was just glad she couldn't detonate grenades with the pin still in.
In the 'base' timeline, the lights went out. Not only the overhead light, but every source of illumination within his office went dark at the same time. The monitor screens, the computer, everything.
Opening his desk drawer, he took out a flashlight; as per his own power, one didn't last long in his kind of business without making sure of contingencies. The flashlight came on, its beam illuminating the office.
At the same time, in his home timeline, he opened a link to the base cameras. If Remote was attacking him in both timelines, he wanted to see if she'd merely cut all power to his office or if the problem was more widespread. A moment later, he had his answer; the cameras were operating, but there was no light to be had.
The mercenaries were using their own flashlights, but there was another problem. He was now getting glimpses of tiny flying invaders, darting through the base, doors opening in front of them as they went. It was almost impossible to get a good look at them, because every time a light was pointed at them there was a burst of fire—no muzzle flash—and the mercenary in question went down.
The worst bit was, he couldn't even give his men orders to rally or fall back, because the base PA system had been forcibly shut down, as had his office radio.
It seemed Tattletale had been correct in every regard; not only had Remote located his base, but she was also waltzing through his defences like they didn't exist. He'd thought the annoying Thinker was pulling his chain when she said there was no way to counteract the Empire cape's attack, but she'd been telling the unvarnished truth. Her advice for him to 'work from home' was in fact the best suggestion he'd had from her all year.
He was still going to torture her when he got the chance, of course. There was no point in letting his minions start getting above themselves. That never ended well.
It looked like he had one chance to destroy Remote; the trouble was, it would entail sacrificing the base and those of his men who were left alive after the assault. Mercenaries were an infinitely renewable resource, but he only had the one base. And, of course, it would require her to be inside the base when he activated the self-destruct.
In the base, he went to the door and tried to open it. It refused to budge, even when he opened the access panel for the emergency crank. He'd been in the habit of testing it on a monthly basis for just this sort of situation, but now it simply wouldn't move.
Closing the panel, he went to the far corner of the office and pressed the hidden button that would let him through into his escape tunnel. The button clicked, but nothing else happened. He tried again, with a similar lack of result.
Right about then, he realised there was a noise he should've been hearing, but he wasn't. Specifically, the hum of the air circulation fans. In an underground facility this large, there was no natural way for air to get around. Once circulation ceased, air quality would quickly become an issue. Even now, he fancied it was starting to get a little stale.
Efficient little bitch. She turned those off too.
Watching from the safety of his home, he saw the exterior doors open and close again. The lights came back on, which didn't actually improve matters. Hookwolf, Stormtiger, Alabaster and Cricket were now in the base. There were traps and countermeasures set up, but he strongly suspected that they wouldn't matter in the long run.
Okay, the base is lost. As soon as Remote walks in, I'll blow the whole thing.
There was normally an audible warning for obvious reasons, but he'd set matters up so he could override it and simply blow the base at the press of a button. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the mouse—
His front and back doors were kicked in at the same time, the dual shattering crash echoing through the house. Jerking his hand away from the mouse, he stared around wildly. What? What's going on?
"Thomas Calvert!" It was Armsmaster's voice, coming from the front door, clearly amplified by some device in his helmet. "The PRT has a warrant for your arrest! Surrender at once! Do not resist!" Heavy boots thundered through the house, interspersed with shouts from the men who had obviously followed Armsmaster into the house.
For half a second he was caught on the horns of a dilemma; do I set up the instant detonation, or do I shut everything down and pretend it never happened?
And then he looked back at his computer screen, and understood that the choice had been taken out of his hands. For there, on the screen, a cartoon dragon was rifling through a filing cabinet, oversized glasses perched on its snout. It glanced up, saw him watching, and gave a cheery fingertip wave. "Hi." He'd heard Dragon's voice before, so he recognised it immediately. "Search warrant. Sorry, not sorry."
And then the door to his home office opened and Armsmaster stepped inside. The armoured hero's halberd was fully extended, and Thomas fancied he saw electricity crackling around the tip. Armsmaster spoke quietly but with a great deal of satisfaction. "Surrender, Coil. You're under arrest."
Well … fuck.
Remote
"Well, this is interesting." Victor looked up from the text message on his phone. "Just got word that Armsmaster and the PRT have arrested someone they think is Coil, across town."
I didn't take my eyes off the screens in front of me. "How reliable is your source?"
"Reasonably. He apparently pulled shenanigans in their computer system, and got caught."
"Do we have an address?" If we didn't, I would have to work at getting to Coil while he was within the PRT building, which would take some planning.
"We do, yeah." He rattled off a street address. I had an idea where it was, and which streets the PRT van would travel along on its way back with him.
"Good. Contact our people inside the base, and see if they need my assistance anymore." If Coil were to be arrested and undergo trial, he would not learn the required lesson; specifically, do not mess with my people. The only lesson that would stick was the one which ensured he could never do it again, so he needed to die.
Thus, I intended to ensure that he never made it to the PRT building.
Victor spoke briefly on the radio, then turned to me. "Hookwolf assures me they've got this, and you can take your little toys away. That last part was him, not me."
I registered the disrespect to slide, but chose not to act on it. At some point there would need to be a meeting of minds between myself and Hookwolf, to determine pecking order within the Empire, but this was not the time. Coil took higher priority.
"Retrieving units now." I spoke out loud as I performed the action, so Victor would be aware of it. "Sealing outer doors. Restarting air filtration." Implicit was the understanding that the mercenaries would not be able to escape the base, but Hookwolf and his cronies would be able to open them once their prey had been hunted down and destroyed. "Assuming positive control of this vehicle. Moving out."
Victor grabbed for a handhold as we started off. I knew exactly which way the van would lurch at any given time, so I was not bothered as I climbed into the front seat and fastened my seat-belt. While I was aware of what everything in front of me did, I ignored it all; my power could exert much finer control over the vehicle than any merely human driver.
"What's your plan?" Victor climbed through as well, settling himself into the passenger seat. "Grab him and bring him back to Kaiser?"
"That was a possibility, but I do not think so." Part of my mind was concentrating on keeping the van travelling at its best speed to a point where I could intercept the transport carrying Coil, while also not gaining too much attention from the police. I could deal with the police, but doing so could get very loud, very fast. Behind the van, the airborne units were catching up slowly; I'd left the ground units behind for our people to retrieve.
"Mind expanding on that one a little bit?"
Expression: eyes narrowed.
Analysis: displeased with connotations of what I have said.
Conclusion: wants to kill Coil himself, or deliver him to Kaiser.
"The priority here is that Coil dies." I tried to explain it in the simplest terms I could. "While it would be emotionally satisfying to convey him to an appropriate location for a ceremonial execution, all this is secondary to making sure he actually dies. Am I correct?"
"Christ, I keep forgetting what you're like when you're using your powers," he muttered, then spoke in a normal tone. "Yes, that's technically correct. What've you got in mind? Riddle the PRT van with tungsten shots?"
"I could, but I will not." Victor was a person whose opinion I valued, so I did not shut down his statement. "If I took him away from the PRT, they would press us so closely that it would be virtually impossible to arrange the ceremonial death. Likewise, if I kill him in a way immediately recognisable as my work—such as with the tungsten shots—this will draw unwelcome attention our way at a vulnerable time." I paused for a deliberately dramatic beat. "I have something else in mind."
His expression open once more, he leaned toward me. "I'm listening."
Coil
Thomas Calvert hated the phrase 'between a rock and a hard place'. He'd spent a lot of money gaining his powers, to ensure he would never again be stuck in that particular situation.
And yet, here he was.
Hands cuffed behind his back, he was loaded into the PRT van, along with no fewer than two armoured guards. One had a foam sprayer, one had a rifle. "Sit," ordered the one with the rifle, indicating a seat with the muzzle of his weapon.
"Do you have any idea who I am?" he asked as he obeyed. "This is all a total misunderstanding. I'm—"
"We know exactly who you are, you traitorous piece of shit." That was the one with the sprayer. "You're a code purple. They should've let you die in Ellisburg. Now shut the fuck up before I decide to foam you just because."
The guard with the rifle leaned down next to him and snapped a clamp onto his handcuff chain. "I'd listen to him. He lost buddies in Ellisburg. So did I. Director Piggot picked us special-like for this duty."
Shit, okay. Time for a different tack. "You know she was at Ellisburg, too." It was weak, but it was also the only play he had available.
"Yeah, but she didn't shoot anyone in the back to get out of there faster. She went down fighting, you sorry sack of shit." The one with the sprayer sat down opposite Thomas and strapped himself in. His partner sat two seats down, where he had a clear view of his target. "Condon and Lorimar, ready to go, over."
Thomas couldn't hear the return radio call, but the van started moving shortly thereafter.
In the other timeline, if anything, it was even worse. Nothing in the base was responding to his commands, the lights were still out, and the air quality in his office was gradually degrading. He had a pistol and a flashlight, and that was about it.
And then, silently, the door to his office slid open. He knew it had been locked solid just moments before, and he hadn't pressed the button to open it, but there it was. And stepping through the doorway, armoured in metal from head to toe, was Hookwolf.
He was sure that shooting the cape wouldn't have much effect, but he had to try anyway. So he aimed and squeezed the trigger, and he'd been totally correct. Exactly nothing happened to Hookwolf, not least because the pistol refused to go off.
With a metallic scraping noise, Hookwolf chuckled. "Dare you to look down the barrel and try it again."
He knew the punchline to that joke. "No thanks. So, what happens now?"
Hookwolf shrugged. "I beat you up a little bit, then I take you to Kaiser and he shoves about six feet of steel clear up your ass and out the top of your head. Out through your arms, too. Calls it the Iron Cross or some such. Says if he does it careful, you'll survive almost all of it. It'll hurt like fuck, though." The metal shards around his mouth curved as though in a smile. "Serve you fuckin' right. Othala was a friend."
"I did nothing to Othala." Thomas knew he had to try. "I've never even met her, except at Somers Rock."
Hookwolf stepped into the office, metal clanking on the concrete floor. "You told Lung where we'd be. Lung and Oni Lee killed Othala. Before we killed Lung, he told us you were behind this shit. Try again, cocksucker."
"Is he resisting?" Stormtiger crowded into the office behind Hookwolf. "Please tell me he's resisting."
"Little bit." Hookwolf held up his hand with finger and thumb half an inch apart. "Kneecap will about do it."
A tiny helicopter-like drone buzzed into the office, hovering above Hookwolf's head. Thomas saw a camera lens. A moment later, all the lights came back on. With a series of beeps, his computer system started rebooting.
Fuck, I'm going to need to put the safety code in.
"Uh …" he began, but right about then, Stormtiger's air-blade struck him in the kneecap. He felt it shatter as he lurched sideways, pure undistilled agony flooding through his body and brain. Coherent thought deserted him, and all he could do was scream.
Lying on his office floor, he felt his mind gradually clear as the initial pain ebbed back to a high but tolerable level. Unfortunately, as he opened his eyes again, the view wasn't great; Hookwolf was standing on one side, Stormtiger on the other, and Cricket at his feet. He was usually pretty good at telling when a timeline was on the way to becoming untenable, and this one was showing all the signs.
"Okay, so let's get this asshole to Kaiser." Hookwolf leaned down and picked him up by the front of his morph suit.
"Wait." That was Stormtiger. "Before we do that, I wanna see his face. Cocksucker sounds a little bit black to me."
"You sure?" Cricket frowned. "Doesn't to me. But hey, you do you."
"Only one way to find out." Hookwolf extruded a blade and sliced through the suit, then peeled the head section back so it hung down behind him. "Huh. You called it, Tiger. Black as the fuckin' ace of spades."
"Am I good, or am I just that fuckin' good?" Stormtiger held up his hand in a high-five gesture toward Cricket. "Shoulda made you put money on it."
"You call everyone black until you see their face." Cricket rolled her eyes, but she returned the high-five. "Broken clock and all that shit."
"Wait." Hookwolf held Thomas up and seemed to be squinting at his face. "I think I know this sonovabitch. He's a fuckin' strike squad commander in the PRT. One of our guys on the inside got some pics out one time."
"Holy shit, talk about double dipping." Stormtiger shook his head. "Motherfucker must've thought he had a dream job. Arrest our guys but let his guys go again."
"Yeah," agreed Cricket. "Just goes to say, ACAB isn't just a cute saying. Sometimes they're supervillains too."
The computer system chose that moment to give a warning double beep. Thomas struggled feebly in Hookwolf's grasp. "I've got to—"
"Shut the fuck up, cop." Hookwolf gut-punched Thomas so hard he tasted blood, in between trying to regain his breath in painful wheezes. "Guys, seriously, I'm thinkin' we just end this fucker here an' now, an' say he resisted too hard."
Cricket shook her head. "No, fuck, I got a better idea. We don't kill him. We fuckin' put it out there that whoever this asshole is, is a supervillain and a PRT officer, and tell everyone that the PRT knew about it and didn't care."
"Oh, fuck yeah." Stormtiger sounded downright gleeful. "That'll fuck the PRT up the ass so hard they'll be shitting blood for a week." He looked around at the triple-beep tone from the computer, echoed by Thomas' phone. "What the fuck is that shit?"
"Let … me … go," wheezed Thomas. "Going … to … blow …"
Cricket raised her eyebrows. "Did he just say he was gonna blow you if you let him go?"
"Haha fuckin' wow." Stormtiger shook his head. "So either he's gay or PRT officers are down to giving blowjobs to get out of shit like this. That's fuckin' amazeballs."
Hookwolf opened his mouth, but whatever gem of wisdom he was going to add to the conversation went by the wayside, because at that moment the self-destruct went off.
Thomas winced as the timeline closed. He immediately split time again, of course, but for the moment both were running parallel with each other. The other timeline had been a dead loss from the moment Hookwolf had stepped into his office, but he was always willing to play things out and see where they went.
Something clicked behind him, and he felt the tension on his wrists release. Slowly, not sure what was going on, he brought his hands around in front of him, free of the cuffs. The problem was that both guards saw this, and reacted accordingly. But the real problem was that he'd done this in both his timelines.
"Stay where you are!" shouted the one with the rifle, aiming it at him. "I will—"
Even as Thomas raised his hands in a 'don't-shoot' motion … the rifle went off. The 5.56mm round impacted his sternum, punched through, and ripped the shit out of his right lung before continuing out through his back (leaving a rather larger exit wound) then through the side of the PRT van.
That would've been bad enough, but the rifle then fired three more times before the trooper was able to pull it out of alignment. Two went through his chest cavity, wreaking considerable damage, while the third clipped the top of his right shoulder; but the damage was done.
Already dying, aware that he was bleeding out massively, he toppled from his seat as the van screeched to a halt, sprawling to the floor. Blood filled his throat and pooled under him; he lived just long enough to hear the rear doors being yanked open, and Armsmaster's exclamation: "Oh, shit."
And then, there were no more timelines to switch to.
End of Part Twenty-Seven
Part Twenty-Seven: Two Lines, No Waiting
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[A/N 2: Reminder for the reader that Taylor is a member of the Empire Eighty-Eight in this fic, and may express racist views that the author does not share.]
Monday Morning, February 21, 2011
Coil
Thomas Calvert was in a bad place, and he knew it.
Tattletale's warning, though unwelcome, had been timely. No matter how much glee she'd clearly derived from it, he didn't think she'd been lying. If Remote had the ability to sense and control the machinery in his base from range—and her consistent foiling of his abduction and assassination plans certainly bore that conclusion out—then the Empire would know about its location sooner rather than later. Worse, they'd be able to force entry, depending on just how powerful her machinery-control powers were.
Of course, once they got inside, it might not go so easily for them. If she had a limit on the number of machines she could affect, then fifty mercenaries, all with assault rifles, might just overwhelm her capabilities.
Or it might not. Thomas didn't feel like betting on that outcome.
He would've gone to work as normal, but he had no desire to find himself stuck in the PRT building if his other timeline went down. So he'd called in a sick day and set things up to work from home. Remote might be shit-hot at screwing over armed gunmen and cars and suchlike, but telling one house in the suburbs from another was an entirely different matter.
This didn't mean, however, that he was going to simply roll out the red carpet for anyone who got into his base. He had a lot of supplies in stock, and more than a few of the mercenaries had practical skills useful in setting up booby-traps, hopefully ones which wouldn't register as machinery to Remote. Pulling up his most up-to-date database on the Empire capes and their powers and weaknesses, he set his men to work.
<><>
Sub-Basement Under Medhall Building
Remote
There was a map of Downtown stuck up on the whiteboard, with the outer limits of Coil's base drawn in on it, as best I could figure them out. Tammi and I had checked up on the specs of Endbringer bunkers, and we'd agreed it pretty well matched up. Exactly how Coil had managed to pull that off, I neither knew nor cared.
By the time we were done with him, the only use he'd have for a hole in the ground would be for someone to bury him in it.
Next to it was my best guess for a plan of the base itself, working off placement of doors and light fittings, and those electromechanical switches that were all around the perimeter. I doubted it was perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it was definitely a good start. Alex seemed to consider it a worthwhile endeavour, anyway.
"There's a lot we don't know about Coil," I began, standing up in front of everyone with a pointer in my hand, like I actually knew what I was doing. "Who he really is, if he has powers and what they might be, stuff like that. But we know where his base is, and I can get us in at any time. The trouble is, what he's also got is a bunch of mercenaries, and he's supposedly armed them with lasers capable of cutting through steel."
"Christ all-fucking-mighty, girlie, we know all this shit." Bradley waved his hand impatiently. "Fuckin' get on with it."
"Calm down, will you?" Alex still had dark circles under his eyes, though they weren't as prominent as they'd once been. He was also solidly in my camp, even more so since I'd taken Lung apart like a Porterhouse steak. "Are you the one with Thinker powers in the room? Are you the one who found where that lanky piece of shit hangs his hat? No? Then shut the hell up and let her run the briefing her way."
Tammi nodded in agreement, muttering, 'got a hot date with your right hand there, Hooksy?' before returning her attention to me. "Go ahead. We're listening."
"Hookwolf's right." I briefly enjoyed the what the fuck? expression on Bradley's face before I kept talking. "We do already know all this shit. But what we don't know is what kind of anti-intrusion measures he's got in his base that don't rely on moving parts. There's a bunch of electromechanical switches all the way through the place I still don't know the function of. I honestly don't even know the exact layout; I can guess a hell of a lot, but until I get eyes in there, it's guesswork at best. And most importantly, while I know where the armoury is, and how many guns and grenades are in there, I don't know how many capes Coil's hiring on. Because my power might be good, but it's not that damn good."
After a few seconds, Justin spoke up. "So … this isn't going to be a rousing speech about how we're going to storm Coil's base like taking San Juan Hill?"
I shook my head. "No. Because we're not idiots here. Lung was an idiot who believed in charging full speed ahead and overwhelming his opposition. Everyone here knows where that got him. I've given you all the facts so we can figure out what we are going to do. The way I see it, we've got two options." I paused and looked at Mr Anders in his wheelchair. "Sir, if we gear up and roll on into his base, we'll totally get him. But depending on how much prep he's done, our people are going to get hurt. Some of us might even die. Or, there's another thing I can do, but it's a lot less satisfying and a lot less exciting, and has a major flaw."
Mr Anders lightly grasped his chin in his thumb and forefinger. "Before I make a judgement on that, I'd be interested in hearing what this other thing is."
Mr Fliescher nodded. "I, also."
"It's simple." I gestured at the vague plan of the base. "He's got entrances here, here and here. Air circulation fans, plus what I strongly suspect are air intakes and filtration equipment, here. I just … lock everything down. The doors all lock solid, the fans stop, nothing circulates, the lights all go off. Him and his people are stuck in the dark, no way to get out. They won't suffocate, not for a while, depending on the actual air volume in there, but it's gonna get fucking stuffy, with zero circulation. The flaw is, I can only maintain this sort of lockdown while I'm awake, which means if I'm going to kill them all that way, I'm going to need a lot of coffee. So, I'm open to ideas."
"Okay, yeah, that would be legitimately terrifying," Justin allowed. "How about this? You soften 'em up like this for about five or six hours, then turn some of the lights back on and I send my ghosts down there after them."
Tammi half-raised her hand. "Or, you could open a door just far enough to send in half a dozen of your little chopper-drones with cameras and tungsten ammo, then stick an antenna through and close the door again. And Crusader's ghosts can be backup."
"The fuck?" Bradley laughed harshly, mockingly. "What's all this 'playing it safe' bullshit? I say we go in there and rip the shit out of Coil and his stupid fuckin' mercenaries. String him up by the guts on the flagpole in front of the Mayor's office. Show everyone in town that nobody fucks with us."
"Yeah!" Lars nodded in agreement, spinning a ball of air on his palm. "We're the fuckin' Empire. This is what we do!"
"It used to be what we did, until Coil set Lung up to ambush us, and we lost Othala." I didn't mention Mr Anders' injury; everyone knew about it, and drawing attention to it would've been in bad taste. "We don't have that safety net anymore, and I'm pretty sure Panacea's just about run out of patience with us."
Tammi and Justin chuckled at the weak joke, and Mr Anders smiled briefly, but that was it. Tough room.
I took a deep breath and went on. "Coil considers himself a mastermind, so do you honestly think he would've set something like this in motion without preparing for the chance we might invade his base sometime? They always say, 'never take on a Tinker in his base' but I'm pretty sure it also applies to Thinkers and anyone else who's had years to set up their secret underground lair."
Alabaster shrugged. "So I'll take point. It's not like I've never been blown up before."
He either just wasn't getting it, or he was determined not to get it. "Off the top of my head, I can think of four different ways for him to remove you from consideration without using mechanical devices. Some of these ways might even kill you outright; I don't know, because I'm not an expert on powers. But if I knew for a fact he was fully aware of my powers, and he'd had time to plan against them … I'd definitely be wary as fuck."
Everyone in Brockton Bay, and a few people outside it, knew what Alabaster's powers were. He'd demonstrated them enough on camera, usually while killing people. If Coil didn't have a full read on them by now, he'd have to be deliberately ignoring all Empire Eighty-Eight footage, and I didn't think he was that much of an idiot.
(Some might've said he was an idiot for attacking us through Lung like that, but he'd made a reasonable effort to cover his tracks, and he'd succeeded in hurting us badly, so I was withholding judgement there.)
Alabaster gave me a dirty look, like I was deliberately trying to spoil his fun. "Look, I've been doing this for a lot longer than you have. I know what I'm doing. Back off, okay?"
"I get it, I do. You know what you're doing." I made my tone agreeable. "But you know who else knows what they're doing? Coil. Right now, he's got us on the back foot. He doesn't want us thinking. He wants us charging face-first into his countermeasures." I didn't add 'just like you're trying to do', because that would've been both insulting and self-evident.
Mr Anders cleared his throat. "Remote makes some very good points. This is not a time to assume that jumping in feet-first is the ideal tactic to win the day. I suggest we mix and match our strategies; Remote opens one of their doors and infiltrates with one or more drones, then shuts the base down hard. Once she's gained all the intel she can from the drones, Crusader sends his ghosts in. At the point of maximum confusion, Remote opens the doors again, and Hookwolf, Stormtiger, Cricket and Alabaster roll in and mop up with extreme prejudice."
Alabaster paused. "Wait, so she won't be stomping in with her fake Tinkertech powersuit?"
Although he hadn't addressed me directly, I shook my head. "No. Victor and I need to rework it now that Lung's dead. No need for the water cooling system, for one thing. It'll just be my drones in there."
"Well, okay then." Stormtiger nodded. "I do like the idea of mopping up a bunch of assholes who have no fucking idea what's going on. What about Coil, boss? What's your thinking on what we do to him once we've got him? Straight-up gank, or something special?"
Mr Anders smiled coldly. "I'm thinking that it's been a very long time since I performed an Iron Cross on someone. He's definitely earned the privilege."
I frowned slightly, not sure what he was talking about. "Iron Cross? What's that?"
Alex's smile matched Mr Anders'. "A metal spike up through the anus, all the way to shoulder level, then two spikes branch off from it to left and right, pushing the arms out to their maximum extension before they burst out through the hands. Then the original spike continues growing upward through the neck until it punches out through the top of the head. If done carefully, the recipient is alive to the end. Though in great pain, of course."
"Hmm." I tilted my head and nodded judiciously, thinking over what had happened to Othala, Mr Anders, and Tammi. "Yeah, I definitely think he's earned it."
Tammi grinned and gave me a high-five.
<><>
PRT ENE Building, Conference Room A
Director Emily Piggot
"Thank you all for coming. This is a code purple situation."
Emily pressed the button to bring the images up on the screen. Raising the laser pointer, she played the red dot over the left-hand image, a blurry photo of a skinny man in a black-and-white morph suit.
"We've ascertained that Coil is the one responsible for springing Shadow Stalker from the PRT building, with the assistance of Circus, possibly for the purpose of performing a hostile extraction with Danny Hebert. She still hasn't surfaced, and there's been no underworld announcement about it, so the chances are something went wrong and the Empire got their hands on her. Which means her body's probably in a shallow grave somewhere." The laser pointer moved to the other image, a uniformed PRT officer. "For those who don't know him, this is Thomas Calvert, PRT strike squad commander. As far as we can tell, he's Coil."
Armsmaster, of course, didn't react. But most of the other Protectorate capes in the room did, along with the PRT officers. Some were shocked, some were just surprised, while a few nodded thoughtfully. It seemed to Emily that Calvert had not made a good impression with those few.
Assault spoke up first, his normally irreverent tone absent for once. "Director, how certain are we of this identification?"
It was a good question. The PRT had had their witch-hunts over the years, and the fallout had never been pretty. Accusing a member of the PRT or Protectorate of cape-related crimes was apparently an ongoing hobby among a certain set of the online community; if they could make anything stick even temporarily, reputations might easily be irreparably tarnished.
Emily flicked the pointer back to the image of Coil. "Physically, they've got the same body type. The key to Stalker's ankle monitor was delivered to her via Circus; the only cape gang leader who would have believably been paying them to get Stalker out is Coil. And Circus used credentials that were unlocked using Calvert's clearances to get in and out. Those credentials were not only unlocked, but then relocked again afterward to cover their tracks."
Battery took up her husband's line of questioning. "And what if this is a double ploy, to throw suspicion on Calvert at the same time as getting Stalker out? It wouldn't be the first time that clearances have been compromised. He may well be innocent in all this, even if he does have the same body type."
Armsmaster cleared his throat. "We checked his computer logs for that timeframe, as well as security camera footage. He was at his desk, performing other routine tasks, logged in with his credentials. If someone else had tried to log into the system using those credentials, it would've thrown up flags on his computer and elsewhere. The footage shows him entering and leaving his office, and his car was in the underground parking lot while all this was going on."
"So, yes," Emily said bluntly. "He's under strong suspicion of being Coil. He called in sick earlier this morning; whether that's because he's actually sick, he suspects something, or for some other reason, we're still looking into. If he is Coil, we have no idea where his base might be, or where he keeps his mercenaries when they're not out committing crimes for him. But we definitely want to talk to him. Whether that turns out to be an interview or an interrogation depends entirely on his willingness to talk to us. We will be asking him about any knowledge of Shadow Stalker's whereabouts."
"Huh." Velocity leaned forward slightly and took a good look at both images. "Well, okay then. If Calvert really is Coil, it might explain a lot of those little problems we've been having over the last few years. What's the plan?"
Armsmaster took over again. "His residence of record is in the suburbs. We're currently combing through his financials to see if he's got some other property he can retreat to, but nothing conclusive has shown up yet. For now, the plan is to treat him like any other suspect: we get the warrant, then raid his place and take him into custody if he's there. Full search of physical property and computer equipment. What happens after that will be entirely up to him."
Triumph was new to the Protectorate proper, so he understandably took his time asking a question. "Uh …"
"Yes?" Emily gave him a sharp 'if you're going to say something, just say it' glance.
He took a quick breath. "What happens if Calvert meets our guys at the door, comes quietly, and he's been careful enough to hide all the evidence offsite? What if we've got nothing on him, and he denies everything? Do we still assume he's guilty and keep pushing?"
Miss Militia cleared her throat. "I've seen that approach before. It's what the smart ones, and the ones who think they're smart, go with. But what they don't take into account is how we keep investigating, no matter what excuses they give. He'll have to work really hard to explain the matter of the credentials to us, and in the meantime we're digging through all the records for signs he might have tampered with them."
"His strike squad," commented Major Davis. "What's happening with them?"
"On administrative leave as of this morning," Emily said immediately. "We'll be going through their records as well. No stone unturned. While Calvert might be able to present himself as being pure as the driven snow, there might be something we can link back to him." She took a deep breath. "Make no mistake: no matter how this turns out, this is going to be a huge black mark on everyone's record, especially mine, when it comes out that a serving PRT officer was moonlighting as a supervillain for years. So it's up to us to dig out every last trace of this man's corruption and put him behind bars where he belongs. And we're going to do it by the book. Does anyone not understand this?"
Assault tipped her a mock salute. "Message received and understood, ma'am. One more question, though."
She nodded toward him. "Yes?"
"The Empire Eighty-Eight." His words quieted the murmured conversations that had started up around the room. "Over the last four days, they've killed Skidmark, Oni Lee, and Lung. If there was a time for them to make a big push, this would be it. Is this something we're doing anything about?"
"We're monitoring the situation." Emily knew the sentence meant little without context, so she kept talking. "There's no buildup of gang strength anywhere. If anything, their activity has dropped way off. Armsmaster?"
The armoured hero cleared his throat. "Yes. Our CIs inside the Empire are saying something fairly drastic happened during the first fight with Lung where Oni Lee and Skidmark died, but nobody's quite sure what it is. We're digging into that as well. Once we get a clear picture of the outcome of the fight, it may throw a light on their current intentions."
Assault snorted. "I will bet any of you here and now, their intentions are nothing good."
"Granted." Emily nodded in full agreement. "But whatever they intend to do, they are currently doing very little, which gives us the chance to deal with the internal threat. Once Coil is no longer an issue, we can focus all our attention on them." She smiled grimly. "They may well end up regretting the fact that they've removed all their rivals from the board."
Challenger cleared her throat. "While we're talking about the Empire, do we know anything more about Taylor Hebert or her father? And do we have any actual evidence linking her to being Remote?"
"Negative on both counts." Emily wasn't happy she had to say it, but it was true. "There's just a whisper from a CI that Victor's been building Remote's armour, or assisting in its construction. Also, Othala might be one of the casualties, given how she hasn't been seen at all since."
Assault raised his chin. "If this is true, the Empire's going to be changing things up a bit, not necessarily for the better. Also, I didn't think Victor was a Tinker."
"If anyone could assist a Tinker, it would be him." Velocity shrugged. "Even if it's just basic fabrication support. I'm more worried by how they put together a suit in less than a day, and killed Lung with it. This means Remote could build a suit to target any one of us, on basically zero notice."
"It's not quite as dire as that," Armsmaster declared. "Based on observations taken at the scene, I think I've got the water jet figured out. Remote had a water-based cooling system in the suit to absorb heat from Lung's fire. When enough of it had boiled, she used the steam to project the unboiled water in a cutting jet. Basically, she used his own power against him. Fortunately, I don't think many of us have powers which can be turned back on us so lethally."
"Well, that's good to hear." Despite the gravity of the situation, Emily found it grimly amusing how Lung had been well and truly hoist on his own petard. "Does anyone have any more questions before we bring this meeting to an end?"
"Ah, yeah." Triumph seemed to be gathering confidence, given he'd spoken up twice so far. "I know Glory Girl's in the Wards now … but has anyone actually asked New Wave if they know anything about what happened that night? Because if they have, I never heard about it."
Silence fell across the conference room, broken only by the subliminal whisper of the air-conditioning system and the tiny buzz of the pink-noise generators. Emily glanced from point to point, watching for the 'oh yeah, I took care of that' expression, only to see other people searching for the same expression.
Armsmaster took a deep breath. "I'll put Aegis onto it."
"You do that. And Triumph? Well done." Emily gave the rest of the room a general nod. "Meeting's over. Dismissed."
As everyone stood up, not quite surging to escape the room but nobody willing to hang back either, Emily reflected on how she was ultimately at fault for the lapse. Someone should've checked up with New Wave before this point, and if nobody else had brought it up, she should've been that 'someone'. But, like everyone else, she'd seen Glory Girl as being separate from New Wave, and entirely failed to make that connection.
Assumptions. They'll bite you in the ass every time.
She could only hope the delay wouldn't get anyone else hurt or killed.
<><>
In the Back of a Van
Remote
I wore the basic armour that Victor had fashioned for me. Not because I anticipated having to go into battle, but because it was relatively light, and would be useful if I had to enter combat unexpectedly. My CQC lessons with Peter had given me a little skill, but against a grown man, the protection and strength granted to me by the armour would be much more useful.
Ahead of me, as we neared Coil's base, my power detected more and more of the anomalous subterranean machinery that had first clued me in to its location. "They are aware of something going on," I said to Victor. "There are fifty armed people moving around within the base. The armoury has three rifles and three pistols left in it. These may be spares. I do not detect any armed men watching us, but they may have left their firearms behind."
Gesture: nod.
Analysis: acknowledgement of words.
"Good work. I'll let everyone know to be on their toes." He lifted his radio microphone to his mouth and spoke into it.
I continued to monitor the machinery I was aware of. Victor and I had performed a little training so that I could recognise particular mechanisms; I knew guns, and I knew doors. I was still unsure about the electromechanical switches lining the walls.
All the mercenaries were carrying grenades. I didn't mind grenades. They only went off when I let them.
Victor received a message on the radio, and lowered the microphone.
Verbalisation: sigh.
Analysis: Unhappiness with current situation.
"Problem?" I asked.
"About what we expected. Hookwolf and his people want to go in now. Something about 'loving a challenge'."
Analysis of tone: not urgent.
Conclusion: problem not severe yet.
"I was given field command." I looked at Victor. "Are they likely to respect that?" The plan was much more likely to be successful if they were.
Gesture: shaken head.
Expression: uncertainty.
Conclusion: problem may become severe.
In my estimation, Hookwolf saw me as a mere girl who had no place giving orders to 'proper' members of the Empire (that is, himself). Krieg, I suspected, was unhappy with my intent to move away from the German roots of the Empire Eighty-Eight, and was choosing not to support me against Hookwolf's insubordination. Mr Anders wanted me to show my mettle, and was thus giving me the chance to prove myself.
In other words, I was on my own.
I would succeed. The plan would go ahead.
"Tell them to hold until the green light is given. My aerial units will be shooting at anything that moves. I would prefer to avoid friendly-fire incidents, but I will not be holding back on the possibility of someone ignoring orders and is in the line of fire."
They had all seen the result of my takedown of Lung. The auxiliary units had torn great chunks out of the regenerating cape; even Hookwolf's metal armour would not be enough to save him. Stormtiger and Cricket would be shredded in seconds. Alabaster … as I had stated earlier, I did not know enough about powers to determine if he would die or be fine. Personally, I gave it a fifty-fifty coin flip.
Victor turned to look at me. "Damn. Okay. Here's hoping they realise you're not bluffing."
Tone: uncertainty.
Conclusion: thinks they might indeed try to call my bluff.
"If they still believe my words to be a bluff after everything that has happened, then they deserve whatever they get." I was telling the exact truth. The only thing worse than open enemies were those who gained their victim's confidence and learned their secrets before stabbing them in the back. Hookwolf was attempting to undermine my authority even now; much more of this and his status as a liability would begin to outweigh his utility as an asset.
"I get it, I do."
Gesture: cautious nod.
Analysis: understands my motivations and agrees with them.
Conclusion: will support me against Hookwolf's faction.
I did not smile. While I was capable of the act when under the influence of my power, Rune had informed me that the resultant expression was 'creepy as fuck', adding 'please don't do it again'. So instead, I gave Victor a firm nod in reply. "Opening doors. Deploying aerial units."
Victor and I had assembled twenty aerial units, all fitted with IR cameras. I also had two crawler units with antennas, and trailing cords that led outside in case the base was Faraday-shielded. I did not need the connectivity to control the units, but it was useful to know where they were going and what was in the way. All incoming footage would be displayed on screens for me to observe, and recorded for posterity.
There were two main entrances, and one I had decided was a way for Coil to enter and leave surreptitiously. I was keeping that one in reserve; if we were roadblocked with the other two entrances, it would be a useful way to flank the enemy. The other two, however, were fair game.
One was built into the wall of a parking garage, while the other had a padlocked hatchway set into a concrete slab. Assume positive control: door. Assume positive control: padlock. Assume positive control: hatch.
The door was easy enough to open, but while the padlock also unfastened itself, the chain links still held the hatchway closed. Loose metal links refused to give me enough purchase to pull it free. One of my aerial units swooped into position and loosed a barrage of tungsten darts; they struck the chain, ripping the mild steel apart with ease. Freed, the hatch swung open under my direction.
By now, the alarm would be going out. I noted the mercenaries were ceasing their seemingly random movements and starting to move toward the entrances. That was when I shut the base down; all internal doors closed and locked, the lights went out, and the air circulation stopped.
At the same time, I flew my aerial units down into the passageway thus revealed, followed by the crawler unit, which launched itself off the top of the steps at speed. Victor had constructed it to be robust, so the hard landing at the bottom didn't faze it at all. Accelerating on its caterpillar tracks, spooling out cable behind it, it raced off down the corridor.
At the other end of the base, matters were much simpler. The door unlocked and opened, and my aerial units buzzed inside, with the crawler unit faithfully dogging their trail. When the inner door rumbled aside, there was a mercenary there, waiting with his rifle raised. He got off a burst of fire that damaged one of my units before three tungsten darts punched in through his faceplate and out through the back of his helmet.
I brought the damaged unit to a hover above the crawler unit; its camera had been shot away, but there was nothing wrong with its weaponry. The crawler, meanwhile, had a perfectly serviceable camera, so it could easily spot for the aerial unit. The other nine units flew on, zeroing in on the mercenaries.
I was off to a good start.
<><>
Coil
In the 'base' timeline, Thomas heard a cut-off radio transmission. Half a syllable, no more, but it told him a lot. His plan of the base showed the exterior doors opening and closing in the same way that his men's weapons and vehicles had malfunctioned during previous attempts to capture or kill Taylor Hebert; that is, utterly ignoring every attempt to force them to work correctly.
His strategy of only hiring unpowered or low-powered mercenaries, brilliant though he'd considered it at the time, was clearly backfiring on him in a big way. For his men to be at all effective, they needed to have guns; against this girl's powers, those were worse than useless. He was just glad she couldn't detonate grenades with the pin still in.
In the 'base' timeline, the lights went out. Not only the overhead light, but every source of illumination within his office went dark at the same time. The monitor screens, the computer, everything.
Opening his desk drawer, he took out a flashlight; as per his own power, one didn't last long in his kind of business without making sure of contingencies. The flashlight came on, its beam illuminating the office.
At the same time, in his home timeline, he opened a link to the base cameras. If Remote was attacking him in both timelines, he wanted to see if she'd merely cut all power to his office or if the problem was more widespread. A moment later, he had his answer; the cameras were operating, but there was no light to be had.
The mercenaries were using their own flashlights, but there was another problem. He was now getting glimpses of tiny flying invaders, darting through the base, doors opening in front of them as they went. It was almost impossible to get a good look at them, because every time a light was pointed at them there was a burst of fire—no muzzle flash—and the mercenary in question went down.
The worst bit was, he couldn't even give his men orders to rally or fall back, because the base PA system had been forcibly shut down, as had his office radio.
It seemed Tattletale had been correct in every regard; not only had Remote located his base, but she was also waltzing through his defences like they didn't exist. He'd thought the annoying Thinker was pulling his chain when she said there was no way to counteract the Empire cape's attack, but she'd been telling the unvarnished truth. Her advice for him to 'work from home' was in fact the best suggestion he'd had from her all year.
He was still going to torture her when he got the chance, of course. There was no point in letting his minions start getting above themselves. That never ended well.
It looked like he had one chance to destroy Remote; the trouble was, it would entail sacrificing the base and those of his men who were left alive after the assault. Mercenaries were an infinitely renewable resource, but he only had the one base. And, of course, it would require her to be inside the base when he activated the self-destruct.
In the base, he went to the door and tried to open it. It refused to budge, even when he opened the access panel for the emergency crank. He'd been in the habit of testing it on a monthly basis for just this sort of situation, but now it simply wouldn't move.
Closing the panel, he went to the far corner of the office and pressed the hidden button that would let him through into his escape tunnel. The button clicked, but nothing else happened. He tried again, with a similar lack of result.
Right about then, he realised there was a noise he should've been hearing, but he wasn't. Specifically, the hum of the air circulation fans. In an underground facility this large, there was no natural way for air to get around. Once circulation ceased, air quality would quickly become an issue. Even now, he fancied it was starting to get a little stale.
Efficient little bitch. She turned those off too.
Watching from the safety of his home, he saw the exterior doors open and close again. The lights came back on, which didn't actually improve matters. Hookwolf, Stormtiger, Alabaster and Cricket were now in the base. There were traps and countermeasures set up, but he strongly suspected that they wouldn't matter in the long run.
Okay, the base is lost. As soon as Remote walks in, I'll blow the whole thing.
There was normally an audible warning for obvious reasons, but he'd set matters up so he could override it and simply blow the base at the press of a button. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the mouse—
His front and back doors were kicked in at the same time, the dual shattering crash echoing through the house. Jerking his hand away from the mouse, he stared around wildly. What? What's going on?
"Thomas Calvert!" It was Armsmaster's voice, coming from the front door, clearly amplified by some device in his helmet. "The PRT has a warrant for your arrest! Surrender at once! Do not resist!" Heavy boots thundered through the house, interspersed with shouts from the men who had obviously followed Armsmaster into the house.
For half a second he was caught on the horns of a dilemma; do I set up the instant detonation, or do I shut everything down and pretend it never happened?
And then he looked back at his computer screen, and understood that the choice had been taken out of his hands. For there, on the screen, a cartoon dragon was rifling through a filing cabinet, oversized glasses perched on its snout. It glanced up, saw him watching, and gave a cheery fingertip wave. "Hi." He'd heard Dragon's voice before, so he recognised it immediately. "Search warrant. Sorry, not sorry."
And then the door to his home office opened and Armsmaster stepped inside. The armoured hero's halberd was fully extended, and Thomas fancied he saw electricity crackling around the tip. Armsmaster spoke quietly but with a great deal of satisfaction. "Surrender, Coil. You're under arrest."
Well … fuck.
<><>
Remote
"Well, this is interesting." Victor looked up from the text message on his phone. "Just got word that Armsmaster and the PRT have arrested someone they think is Coil, across town."
I didn't take my eyes off the screens in front of me. "How reliable is your source?"
"Reasonably. He apparently pulled shenanigans in their computer system, and got caught."
"Do we have an address?" If we didn't, I would have to work at getting to Coil while he was within the PRT building, which would take some planning.
"We do, yeah." He rattled off a street address. I had an idea where it was, and which streets the PRT van would travel along on its way back with him.
"Good. Contact our people inside the base, and see if they need my assistance anymore." If Coil were to be arrested and undergo trial, he would not learn the required lesson; specifically, do not mess with my people. The only lesson that would stick was the one which ensured he could never do it again, so he needed to die.
Thus, I intended to ensure that he never made it to the PRT building.
Victor spoke briefly on the radio, then turned to me. "Hookwolf assures me they've got this, and you can take your little toys away. That last part was him, not me."
I registered the disrespect to slide, but chose not to act on it. At some point there would need to be a meeting of minds between myself and Hookwolf, to determine pecking order within the Empire, but this was not the time. Coil took higher priority.
"Retrieving units now." I spoke out loud as I performed the action, so Victor would be aware of it. "Sealing outer doors. Restarting air filtration." Implicit was the understanding that the mercenaries would not be able to escape the base, but Hookwolf and his cronies would be able to open them once their prey had been hunted down and destroyed. "Assuming positive control of this vehicle. Moving out."
Victor grabbed for a handhold as we started off. I knew exactly which way the van would lurch at any given time, so I was not bothered as I climbed into the front seat and fastened my seat-belt. While I was aware of what everything in front of me did, I ignored it all; my power could exert much finer control over the vehicle than any merely human driver.
"What's your plan?" Victor climbed through as well, settling himself into the passenger seat. "Grab him and bring him back to Kaiser?"
"That was a possibility, but I do not think so." Part of my mind was concentrating on keeping the van travelling at its best speed to a point where I could intercept the transport carrying Coil, while also not gaining too much attention from the police. I could deal with the police, but doing so could get very loud, very fast. Behind the van, the airborne units were catching up slowly; I'd left the ground units behind for our people to retrieve.
"Mind expanding on that one a little bit?"
Expression: eyes narrowed.
Analysis: displeased with connotations of what I have said.
Conclusion: wants to kill Coil himself, or deliver him to Kaiser.
"The priority here is that Coil dies." I tried to explain it in the simplest terms I could. "While it would be emotionally satisfying to convey him to an appropriate location for a ceremonial execution, all this is secondary to making sure he actually dies. Am I correct?"
"Christ, I keep forgetting what you're like when you're using your powers," he muttered, then spoke in a normal tone. "Yes, that's technically correct. What've you got in mind? Riddle the PRT van with tungsten shots?"
"I could, but I will not." Victor was a person whose opinion I valued, so I did not shut down his statement. "If I took him away from the PRT, they would press us so closely that it would be virtually impossible to arrange the ceremonial death. Likewise, if I kill him in a way immediately recognisable as my work—such as with the tungsten shots—this will draw unwelcome attention our way at a vulnerable time." I paused for a deliberately dramatic beat. "I have something else in mind."
His expression open once more, he leaned toward me. "I'm listening."
<><>
Coil
Thomas Calvert hated the phrase 'between a rock and a hard place'. He'd spent a lot of money gaining his powers, to ensure he would never again be stuck in that particular situation.
And yet, here he was.
Hands cuffed behind his back, he was loaded into the PRT van, along with no fewer than two armoured guards. One had a foam sprayer, one had a rifle. "Sit," ordered the one with the rifle, indicating a seat with the muzzle of his weapon.
"Do you have any idea who I am?" he asked as he obeyed. "This is all a total misunderstanding. I'm—"
"We know exactly who you are, you traitorous piece of shit." That was the one with the sprayer. "You're a code purple. They should've let you die in Ellisburg. Now shut the fuck up before I decide to foam you just because."
The guard with the rifle leaned down next to him and snapped a clamp onto his handcuff chain. "I'd listen to him. He lost buddies in Ellisburg. So did I. Director Piggot picked us special-like for this duty."
Shit, okay. Time for a different tack. "You know she was at Ellisburg, too." It was weak, but it was also the only play he had available.
"Yeah, but she didn't shoot anyone in the back to get out of there faster. She went down fighting, you sorry sack of shit." The one with the sprayer sat down opposite Thomas and strapped himself in. His partner sat two seats down, where he had a clear view of his target. "Condon and Lorimar, ready to go, over."
Thomas couldn't hear the return radio call, but the van started moving shortly thereafter.
In the other timeline, if anything, it was even worse. Nothing in the base was responding to his commands, the lights were still out, and the air quality in his office was gradually degrading. He had a pistol and a flashlight, and that was about it.
And then, silently, the door to his office slid open. He knew it had been locked solid just moments before, and he hadn't pressed the button to open it, but there it was. And stepping through the doorway, armoured in metal from head to toe, was Hookwolf.
He was sure that shooting the cape wouldn't have much effect, but he had to try anyway. So he aimed and squeezed the trigger, and he'd been totally correct. Exactly nothing happened to Hookwolf, not least because the pistol refused to go off.
With a metallic scraping noise, Hookwolf chuckled. "Dare you to look down the barrel and try it again."
He knew the punchline to that joke. "No thanks. So, what happens now?"
Hookwolf shrugged. "I beat you up a little bit, then I take you to Kaiser and he shoves about six feet of steel clear up your ass and out the top of your head. Out through your arms, too. Calls it the Iron Cross or some such. Says if he does it careful, you'll survive almost all of it. It'll hurt like fuck, though." The metal shards around his mouth curved as though in a smile. "Serve you fuckin' right. Othala was a friend."
"I did nothing to Othala." Thomas knew he had to try. "I've never even met her, except at Somers Rock."
Hookwolf stepped into the office, metal clanking on the concrete floor. "You told Lung where we'd be. Lung and Oni Lee killed Othala. Before we killed Lung, he told us you were behind this shit. Try again, cocksucker."
"Is he resisting?" Stormtiger crowded into the office behind Hookwolf. "Please tell me he's resisting."
"Little bit." Hookwolf held up his hand with finger and thumb half an inch apart. "Kneecap will about do it."
A tiny helicopter-like drone buzzed into the office, hovering above Hookwolf's head. Thomas saw a camera lens. A moment later, all the lights came back on. With a series of beeps, his computer system started rebooting.
Fuck, I'm going to need to put the safety code in.
"Uh …" he began, but right about then, Stormtiger's air-blade struck him in the kneecap. He felt it shatter as he lurched sideways, pure undistilled agony flooding through his body and brain. Coherent thought deserted him, and all he could do was scream.
Lying on his office floor, he felt his mind gradually clear as the initial pain ebbed back to a high but tolerable level. Unfortunately, as he opened his eyes again, the view wasn't great; Hookwolf was standing on one side, Stormtiger on the other, and Cricket at his feet. He was usually pretty good at telling when a timeline was on the way to becoming untenable, and this one was showing all the signs.
"Okay, so let's get this asshole to Kaiser." Hookwolf leaned down and picked him up by the front of his morph suit.
"Wait." That was Stormtiger. "Before we do that, I wanna see his face. Cocksucker sounds a little bit black to me."
"You sure?" Cricket frowned. "Doesn't to me. But hey, you do you."
"Only one way to find out." Hookwolf extruded a blade and sliced through the suit, then peeled the head section back so it hung down behind him. "Huh. You called it, Tiger. Black as the fuckin' ace of spades."
"Am I good, or am I just that fuckin' good?" Stormtiger held up his hand in a high-five gesture toward Cricket. "Shoulda made you put money on it."
"You call everyone black until you see their face." Cricket rolled her eyes, but she returned the high-five. "Broken clock and all that shit."
"Wait." Hookwolf held Thomas up and seemed to be squinting at his face. "I think I know this sonovabitch. He's a fuckin' strike squad commander in the PRT. One of our guys on the inside got some pics out one time."
"Holy shit, talk about double dipping." Stormtiger shook his head. "Motherfucker must've thought he had a dream job. Arrest our guys but let his guys go again."
"Yeah," agreed Cricket. "Just goes to say, ACAB isn't just a cute saying. Sometimes they're supervillains too."
The computer system chose that moment to give a warning double beep. Thomas struggled feebly in Hookwolf's grasp. "I've got to—"
"Shut the fuck up, cop." Hookwolf gut-punched Thomas so hard he tasted blood, in between trying to regain his breath in painful wheezes. "Guys, seriously, I'm thinkin' we just end this fucker here an' now, an' say he resisted too hard."
Cricket shook her head. "No, fuck, I got a better idea. We don't kill him. We fuckin' put it out there that whoever this asshole is, is a supervillain and a PRT officer, and tell everyone that the PRT knew about it and didn't care."
"Oh, fuck yeah." Stormtiger sounded downright gleeful. "That'll fuck the PRT up the ass so hard they'll be shitting blood for a week." He looked around at the triple-beep tone from the computer, echoed by Thomas' phone. "What the fuck is that shit?"
"Let … me … go," wheezed Thomas. "Going … to … blow …"
Cricket raised her eyebrows. "Did he just say he was gonna blow you if you let him go?"
"Haha fuckin' wow." Stormtiger shook his head. "So either he's gay or PRT officers are down to giving blowjobs to get out of shit like this. That's fuckin' amazeballs."
Hookwolf opened his mouth, but whatever gem of wisdom he was going to add to the conversation went by the wayside, because at that moment the self-destruct went off.
Thomas winced as the timeline closed. He immediately split time again, of course, but for the moment both were running parallel with each other. The other timeline had been a dead loss from the moment Hookwolf had stepped into his office, but he was always willing to play things out and see where they went.
Something clicked behind him, and he felt the tension on his wrists release. Slowly, not sure what was going on, he brought his hands around in front of him, free of the cuffs. The problem was that both guards saw this, and reacted accordingly. But the real problem was that he'd done this in both his timelines.
"Stay where you are!" shouted the one with the rifle, aiming it at him. "I will—"
Even as Thomas raised his hands in a 'don't-shoot' motion … the rifle went off. The 5.56mm round impacted his sternum, punched through, and ripped the shit out of his right lung before continuing out through his back (leaving a rather larger exit wound) then through the side of the PRT van.
That would've been bad enough, but the rifle then fired three more times before the trooper was able to pull it out of alignment. Two went through his chest cavity, wreaking considerable damage, while the third clipped the top of his right shoulder; but the damage was done.
Already dying, aware that he was bleeding out massively, he toppled from his seat as the van screeched to a halt, sprawling to the floor. Blood filled his throat and pooled under him; he lived just long enough to hear the rear doors being yanked open, and Armsmaster's exclamation: "Oh, shit."
And then, there were no more timelines to switch to.
End of Part Twenty-Seven
Last edited:
Avernus
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- May 22, 2020
- Messages
- 294
Ha! Now this part made me genuinely laugh out loud.
Sto Odin
Only a very distant relation
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2022
- Messages
- 119
So, Taylor's ongoing downward slope has reached the point where she's OK with torturing opponents to death, but doesn't insist on it -- the actual assassination was admirably efficient.
As a bonus, we get a reminder that E88 is full of stupid, awful people as those traits kill a bunch of them in the next timeline over.
As a bonus, we get a reminder that E88 is full of stupid, awful people as those traits kill a bunch of them in the next timeline over.
Avernus
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- May 22, 2020
- Messages
- 294
And highly deniable. There's no physical evidence that the rifle was made to fire, and Coil being released like that gives the trooper a plausible reason to have fired. Oh, they'll no doubt be pretty sure it was her, but no way would they be able to prove it in court.
Also, while Taylor had no way of knowing or setting it up, "law enforcement officer picked for having a known grudge against the prisoner shoots an unarmed black man" is a scenario incredibly easy to spin against the PRT. Something its enemies will be happy to do, and that the extremely PR-conscious PRT will figure out almost immediately.
I figure that they're going to just bite the bullet, officially ignore their suspicion that Remote was behind it and file the incident as "shot while trying to escape" and hope that the media and public just accept the story.
MrStrife
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Nov 9, 2018
- Messages
- 263
I actually didn't even realize that in this timeline Dragon has gone full furry/scalie, and honestly I'm here for it. Let your freak flag fly, girl.