The Slippery Slope [Worm AU]

[Avernus]

Coil's a sadist who makes excuses for his sadism, thus his fondness for torture. He's thinking about torturing her in a disposable timeline as he does regularly, which by definition has nothing to do with keeping her from "getting above" herself since it'll never actually happen.

And of course he's (as always) totally ignoring that it's entirely the fault of his actions towards her that Tattletale is hostile to him. Which is a major criticism of his leadership ability, since her position - a runaway girl on the street with no support - made her a prime candidate for recruitment as an actually loyal "minion". I'm hardly the first person to point out that good pay and nice treatment would have resulted in a grateful and loyal Tattletale, not a permanently hostile one.

It makes for an interesting contrast in this story, with how smoothly the Empire sucked in the similarly isolated and desperate Taylor. Who is now much more loyal to the Empire than Tattletale ever was to Coil (a low bar to be sure).

 

[Ack]

The Slippery Slope

Part Twenty-Eight: Ongoing Fallout

[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, February 21, 2011
Several Minutes Before Coil's Death

Hookwolf

Bradley stalked through the base, fully armoured, grinning viciously behind his mask. This was what it was all about. With the air filtration and the lights back on again, he was on a level playing field with Coil's mercenaries … except that he really wasn't.

Sure, they had their guns and their lasers and a few of them had weaksauce powers, but he'd been going up against guns for years, and the lasers could only cut through some of his armour before he got to whichever dumbass was shooting at him. If he took a big enough hit, it would hurt, but that was the whole fucking point. Going into a fight wasn't about coming out unscathed. It was about winning, against an opponent who might have a chance of beating you.

And he was really fucking good at that.

When the doors first opened and the lights came on, he'd ploughed through the first few mercenaries he'd found without even breaking a sweat. Now they were starting to hide and snipe from around corners, playing it smart. It still wasn't going to save them, but at least he had more of a challenge.

Stormtiger, Alabaster and Cricket had gone ahead; he could hear the occasional rattle of gunfire and the muffled screams of mercenaries. This was just what they'd all needed: the chance to let loose and go all-out on a bunch of thoroughly deserving assholes. And the best bit was, Remote had pulled out altogether, even her little flying doodads going with her. Good. Time to show Max that we're better at this than she'll ever be.

Darting around a corner, he laid hold of a couple of mercenaries who didn't even have their guns up and ready. "For fuck's sake," he growled. "At least show you're fucking trying."

"N-no!" gasped one of the idiots, pointing up at the ceiling. "We need to get out of here!"

"Damn right you need to get out of here. Too bad it's too late for you." Bradley started growing extra blades out of his fist.

"No!" The other mercenary struggled wildly, almost breaking Bradley's grip. "Those lights! Danger signal!"

Bradley frowned and looked up at where a flashing yellow light was casting its intermittent glare over them. "Yeah, no shit. We're the danger."

"No, no, no!" Fuck, these cocksuckers were argumentative. "Coil told us, if those yellow lights ever come on, we gotta evac the base! Like, yesterday!"

That sounded oddly specific. Bradley stopped and thought about that for a moment. "Did he say why?" As he asked the question, the light turned from yellow to red, and flashed faster than ever.

<><>​

Coil's phone, locked in the secure transit case in the front of the PRT van, came alive. It flashed a warning on its screen and blared an alarm as loud as its speakers could manage. It had already beeped a polite warning for Coil to deactivate the upcoming self-destruct, but now it was far beyond 'polite'.

The trooper who was riding shotgun glanced down at the transit case quizzically. "Hey, do you hear that?" he asked.

The driver shook his head in negation. "Ignore it. Asshole's probably got his phone set up to try and create a distraction. We'll check it out once we get back to the PRT building."

"Copy that."

<><>​

Hookwolf

"Fuck!" shouted one of the mercenaries, struggling harder than ever. "We gotta get out of here!" His buddy also did his best to wrench himself free from Bradley's grasp. In their panic, they both dropped their rifles.

This was problematic. There weren't a lot of reasons to evacuate a secure underground bunker that didn't involve serious danger to the people inside it. Maybe gas was being released?

And then he had a recollection of Victor talking about this very base. He'd called it a 'Bond villain base', which had sparked a whole other set of memories. Bradley hadn't watched all the old Bond movies, but he seemed to recall that the classic villains had all had one thing in common: once they were defeated, their bases went up in flames, or were otherwise destroyed.

"Shit!" he blurted, releasing the mercenaries. Ignoring the dropped rifles, they bolted toward (he presumed) the nearest exit. Not that he was wasting any time; if he was right, it was time for him to leave too.

"Guys!" he bellowed as he passed the mercenaries by and sprinted for safety. "Out! Get out! Now! Get—"

<><>​

Within Coil's still-locked office, the timer on his computer ran down to zero, and a signal went out. It didn't happen all at once; the lower-level structural supports went first, so that when the upper level went, it would collapse all the harder. Up until this point, putting in the correct password to either the phone or the computer would have averted the oncoming catastrophe.

This was not to happen.

<><>​

Hookwolf

When the first charge detonated, the shock nearly threw him off his feet, but steel claws dug into the concrete and let him keep his balance. He kept running, even as more explosions sent ripples of movement through the floor and did their best to blow his eardrums out. Chunks of rubble began dropping from the ceiling; holding his arms over his head, he dodged the larger bits as best he could and powered on.

Behind him, he heard brief screams as the mercenaries failed to get out of the way in time, but he didn't give a shit. It wouldn't even have bothered him if they'd been Empire; at a time like this, it was every man for himself.

Fucking Remote should've known about this, the fleeting thought crossed his mind. She should've told us. Little bitch wants to kill us off, have the Empire all to herself.

One of the walls blew out in a welter of fire and rubble, bowling him sideways. Dust and smoke choked him, but he scrambled to his feet even as he coughed and fought for breath. More explosions blasted him with shrapnel and pummelled him with fist-sized lumps of concrete. His armour took most of it, but he knew he was going to feel every bit of it … if he survived.

The roof was collapsing in earnest now, SUV-sized chunks of concrete crashing down all around him. If one of those hit him, he knew he'd be chunky salsa in an instant, cape powers or no goddamn fucking cape powers. The door was too far away, if it was even still there.

There was only one thing for it. Dodging around the worst of the hits and weathering the rest, he started upward, clawing and climbing his way through the tumbling rubble. More dust choked his lungs and caked in his sinuses, but he ignored the burning in his chest and dug deep into the ethos that he lived by.

A true warrior doesn't give up when it gets too hard. He fights anyway.

Scratching, clawing, rending, shoving, he kept moving. Kept fighting. Kept striving. Whichever way seemed the easiest to go, he went there. Concrete broke under his steel claws, and he fought on. Seeking the open air. Refusing to submit.

Refusing to lie down and die.

And then, as he teetered on the edge of exhausted collapse, he realised that there was light leaking in around the edges of a slab of concrete directly above him. Drawing on the last of his strength, he punched upward, shattering it into pieces. Bright sunlight poured down onto him, and he looked up to see the blue sky.

Holy shit, I made it.

And that was when he passed out.

<><>​

Armsmaster

Colin stared helplessly at Coil's body as the trooper who'd come along in the EMT role shook his head. "He's gone, sir. Never stood a chance. Even if we'd had a full crash wagon available, he wouldn't have made it to surgery."

"God damn it." He turned to look over at the troopers who'd been in the back with Coil. Both had handed over their weapons without demur, and the one who'd actually fired looked tense and worried. His lie-detection software still wasn't great, but it had registered the man's lack of prior intent as being genuine.

The report would most likely throw the blame on Coil for slipping his cuffs; the troopers had been specifically warned to not give him even the slightest chance to escape, and freeing himself was absolutely the first and most crucial step for such an escape. There was no innocent explanation that could be considered.

Still, it meant that Coil could not be interrogated for what he knew and what he'd done in his time as a PRT consultant and strike squad commander. His grip on the halberd tightened at the knowledge of the lost opportunity.

The HUD in his helmet flashed to indicate an incoming call from Dragon; like a drowning man grabbing for any lifeline, he accepted it. "Hi. Please tell me you have good news."

Her avatar smiled and nodded. "Yes, I do. Sorry to hear about the shooting, but I have cracked his system. There's a lot of information in there, including the fact that he was bankrolling the Undersiders."

Colin's head came up. "Really. That's very interesting indeed."

"Well, I thought so. Would you like their address?"

His smile matched hers. "Yes. I believe I would."

It looked as though he might get his interrogation after all.

<><>​

Seven Minutes Later
PRT ENE Building, Director's Office

Director Emily Piggot

The rising pillar of dust and smoke was actually visible from Emily's office window. She was dividing her attention between that and her computer screen, awaiting further updates, when her phone rang. Without even looking, she swiped to answer. "Piggot. Talk to me."

"I'm on site now, ma'am. It's not good." It was Miss Militia, who had been dispatched as first responder to whatever had happened to the Downtown Mall. Emily knew it had to be dire, given that her windows had literally rattled and the coffee in her mug had rippled. "There's been a substantial subsurface explosion under the Downtown Mall, and about three-quarters of the mall has collapsed, along with a quarter of its parking structure. People are trapped in the rubble. I've also got witness statements saying that Hookwolf was dragged out of the rubble and driven off in a car just before I got here."

Emily grimaced. "So the Empire's mixed up with this somewhere. I knew they were being too quiet."

"Copy that, ma'am." Miss Militia paused. "I'm thinking I'll stick around and keep an eye out for other Empire involvement. Unless you need me for something else?"

"Nothing urgent, no." The word had just come in about Calvert's death in transit, for which there would be a thorough investigation per standing orders, but it wasn't as though that was an Empire plot. The idiot had somehow popped his cuffs, and one of the carefully vetted troopers had reacted lethally. End of story, and end of the line for Thomas Calvert. "Carry on, and let me know what you find out."

"Will do, ma'am. Militia, out." The call ended.

Emily sighed and took one last look at the plume of dust and smoke. It was typical of the Empire to be storing explosives in the basement of the Downtown Mall. She would be laying the responsibility of all the deaths—and there would be deaths—at Kaiser's feet, once she got her hands on the man.

It was a pity that Calvert hadn't survived long enough to be interrogated. The man had always marched to the beat of his own drum, and this time around he'd chosen suicide by trooper; not an unknown state of affairs given the circumstances. But that was only one lead cut off short; they were already getting results from Dragon's deep-dive into his home computer system.

Regarding the man himself, she would not spare even a moment mourning his fate. She had more important things to deal with right now.

<><>​

Undersiders' Hideout

Grue

Brian came puffing up the spiral staircase to a scene of general disarray. A half-packed bag lay on the sofa, two of Bitch's dogs were running around, and Lisa was typing on her laptop like a woman possessed. Alec ducked into the room and let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank fuck. What the hell's going on out there?"

"I've got no idea," Brian confessed. "Lisa just called me and said to get over here as soon as possible, so I did. What've you heard?"

Bitch appeared behind Alec. "Explosion. Big enough and close enough to make my dogs bark. Somewhere south of here. She started acting stupid after that."

"Wow, jeez, judgy much?" the Thinker snarked, emerging from her typing fugue. "Okay, here's the highlights: our secret boss was Coil. He had a base under the Downtown Mall, wired with self-destruct charges. That's what blew up."

Brian felt like he was trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle in a high wind. "And he was inside it at the time …?"

"God, no." There was no humour in her tone. "The PRT pinged his shenanigans and kicked in the door of his house about an hour ago, but he was killed in custody on the way to lockup. Still unsure if it was accidentally-on-purpose or just plain accidental. Anyway, they've got access to his home computer system, and they'll be finding out about us, and where we hang our hats. So we gotta vamoose, compadres. Light a shuck. Get the fuck out." She gestured at the bag beside her, by way of example.

"But … they don't go after capes at home," Alec objected. "Unwritten rules and all that shit."

Lisa growled under her breath. "Who are you trying to kid? Armsmaster would totally kick the door in and arrest us all. And the PRT wouldn't give a single, solitary damn. So you morons need to pack everything you can easily carry, and put it in Brian's car now."

"You could've told me all this over the phone," objected Brian. "I need to pack too."

"We needed you and your car over here," Lisa stated without a hint of shame. "We can always go back after we've got our stuff in your car. I figure we've got fifteen minutes, but I'd like to have as big a lead as possible."

"Yeah, but—" Alec began, but broke off when all three dogs started barking. At the same time, Brian heard a very distinctive sound approaching. "Shit, that's Armsmaster's bike!"

"The fuck?" Lisa's eyes widened. "There's no way—oh, for fuck's sake! The colossal asshole called in Dragon! Forget fifteen minutes! We've got fifteen seconds!" Slamming her laptop shut, she jammed it into her bag, then yanked the charger out of the wall socket and bundled it in on top.

Brian hesitated; he didn't have anything here to grab, and Bitch's dogs were still far too small to ride. Slapping on a domino mask, he headed for the landing and started pouring black fog down into the lower area. But even before the rising tide came close to eclipsing the door, he smelled burned metal and saw a glowing yellow-white line carving the lock away. Then there was a crash and a clatter, and the door was indeed kicked in.

Armsmaster stepped in through the doorway, and looked up at Brian. The black fog was up to his chest by now, rising steadily. But it was too late; the veteran hero had seen him, and knew exactly where the spiral staircase was.

"Grue!" Armsmaster's tone was both commanding and peremptory. "Surrender now, and you'll have a chance for a lighter sentence!"

Yeah, right. As if. Brian knew about the ongoing disparity between the sentencing of black criminals and white criminals for identical charges, and he had no reason to believe it would be any different for capes. "How about no!" he shouted back. "Do you even have a warrant?"

"No need!" Armsmaster forged his way toward the staircase as his helmet vanished under the black tide. "This is officially an abandoned property!"

Brian had no idea about the legality of this—his apartment was leased to his real name, with real money going on rent every month—but it looked like Armsmaster believed it. There was no way the Protectorate cape was going to give him or the other Undersiders even the slightest leeway. Until Rachel's dogs were grown large enough to ride, this was going to be a fight.

Heavy boots rang on the risers of the spiral staircase, and Armsmaster's helmet rose out of the black fog again as he climbed steadily. Brian adjusted the outflow of the black fog to pour over Armsmaster's head and shoulders in the hope that it would slow him down, but the armoured hero had one gauntleted hand on the spiral outer rail to guide the way. His tread never faltered, and his halberd led the way like the bowsprit of some bizarre ship.

Even though there was just one of him and four of them, Brian knew that this was very bad indeed.

<><>​

Clinic Under Medhall Building

Taylor

"Wow," I said to Victor as he set Hookwolf up on an examination bed and started an IV line. "He looks wrecked. Is he gonna be okay?"

"He's in one piece, so yeah." Victor shrugged. "Bruises don't matter to him. Neither do scars." And, to be fair, Hookwolf had plenty of both at the moment. "He actually regenerates pretty quickly, so long as nothing's gotten to his core."

"The entire damn bunker, plus half of the Downtown Mall, fell in on him." I shook my head in disbelief. "It's a miracle he wasn't crushed when the charges went off."

He grimaced. "Yeah, well. Now we know what those damn electromechanical switches were, that we were all wondering about. I honestly wouldn't have picked it. Who actually sets up a self-destruct for their own damn base? Especially one that goes off just because the power gets cut then restored?"

Kaiser wheeled his way into the infirmary. "It goes to illustrate, yet again, that whatever powers he actually possessed—if he had any powers at all—he suffered from a profound lack of forethought. After all, he came at us with the expectation that there wouldn't be any kind of backlash accruing."

Victor tilted his hand from side to side. "To be absolutely fair, he did employ Circus and Shadow Stalker as catspaws, and set Lung on us instead of attacking directly with his mercenaries. If we hadn't figured out he was behind it all, he'd be sitting pretty right now."

I was in no mood to praise the dead. "He gambled and lost. Fucker deserved to die, especially after what he's done to us." Normally I was fairly sensitive about people dying, but Coil had made himself the exception to the rule.

"Oh, I'm not denying that." Victor shook his head in negation. "The way you took him out was masterful. Shot by a PRT trooper, inside a PRT transport, while they were en route. That's got to be the ultimate in locked-room murders."

"Executions," I corrected him. "Or maybe trash disposal. Someone like him doesn't deserve to have their death considered murder."

"We're getting side-tracked," Kaiser interjected. "How soon will Bradley be recovering, and what's our next move? Lung's dead and Coil's dead. How do we best capitalise on this?" From the calculating look in his eyes, I could tell that he had ideas on the matter, but he was interested in hearing our input before making the final decision.

"Recovery, not long." Victor gestured at the recumbent Hookwolf. "He took a hell of a beating and ran through all his reserves clawing his way out of there, but with saline to replace his body fluids and glucose for energy, he'll be coming around sooner than later. As for the rest of it … hmm." He rubbed his chin, thinking hard.

"That question covers you as well, Taylor." Kaiser looked keenly at me. "You're one of my most valuable capes, don't forget. It's due to you that Coil and Lung are both off the board. I'm interested in your opinion on matters."

And that right there was one of the reasons he had my loyalty. He saw me, recognised my contributions, and was willing to give me credit for them. "I'm not an expert in any of this," I reminded him. "But I'm thinking the PRT will be watching us like hawks for any kind of visible move on the rest of the city. So when we do move, we make it subtle, hard for them to come down on with any kind of definite force."

Kaiser smiled. "I like it. Victor?"

"She's got a point, boss. They've been on the back foot since Lung, and losing Coil will be a big black mark on their record. They'll be desperate for any kind of win. So if we make any kind of overt move, the type they would normally monitor and log but not interfere with, they'll come down on it like a ton of bricks. So we need to do stuff that's behind the scenes, or at least very hard for them to roll up on with a bunch of troopers."

"Fuck that," rasped Hookwolf, struggling to sit up. We all looked around at him; I was personally impressed as hell at his rate of recovery.

The look in his eyes, I was less enthused about. I'd seen that look before, on Sophia's face, the implicit promise I will fuck you up. It seemed a good idea to defuse whatever new excuse he had to be pissed off with me, so I backed up to let Victor and Kaiser talk to him in my place.

"So how are the others?" he asked. "They get out okay?"

Victor took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You're the only one who made it out, that we know of."

Sitting all the way up, he grabbed the IVs and yanked them out without even a twinge. His feet hit the floor, and he braced himself upright. "The fuck you say. Why aren't we in there, digging them out?"

This time, Kaiser answered. "The men who'd been watching the outside exit were injured by the explosions, and the ones in the parking garage were killed when that exit collapsed. Crusader dragged you out when you dug yourself free. The Protectorate and PRT were only minutes away. We didn't have the manpower available to hold off the authorities and look for our people. So, I told Crusader to get you and the surviving men out of there before you were snapped up too."

"Fuck." The word was mostly a growl. "Okay, so what are we gonna be doing about her?" Not even bothering to look at me, he made a dismissive gesture in my direction.

"Her? Which 'her'?" asked Victor, just to give him the chance for an out.

Of course, being Hookwolf, he refused to take it. "Remote." Blades slid into position on his forearms. "She did this. Sent us in there when the place was going to blow."

"Stand down." Kaiser spoke firmly. "Taylor is not at fault, here. She saw the switches for the self-destruct mechanism, but didn't know what they were."

Victor spoke up. "I didn't know either, even though she described them to me. None of us considered that Coil might've been that much of an idiot. More to the point, she was going to clear out the place using her remote devices. You were the ones pushing to go in 'to show her how it's done', instead of letting her handle it."

"He's right." Kaiser shook his head. "I don't know if the self-destruct triggered because of his death, or the power fluctuations, or even if he just set it off out of spite, but Taylor did warn us that he'd anticipate our attack, and that he might set up traps to kill our people. Which is precisely what happened."

Hookwolf breathed deeply, apparently pushing his anger down. I was mildly impressed; he liked to present as the unstoppable barbarian, but he knew when to take a step back. "Fine," he gritted. "You're saying Coil's dead?"

"Yes." Victor gestured toward me. "We intercepted his transport, Taylor popped his cuffs, then when the PRT troopers pointed their guns at him, there was an unfortunate live-fire incident." He smiled grimly. "I would pay a great deal to get access to the body-cam imagery of his face at that moment."

"Okay, he's dead. We don't get our Iron Cross, but that's fine." Hookwolf gave me a reluctant nod. "So if Tiger and Cricket and Alabaster are still alive, what do we do about that?"

I shrugged. "As soon as they get them to the PRT building, I lead the strike to go in there and get them out. They're my teammates as well."

He snorted in derision. "Lot easier said than done there, girl. You're good, but what're you gonna do against capes?"

I refused to back down. "Wait until they're off site or otherwise accounted for, then shut the whole damn building down and go in to get our people out." I snapped my fingers. "Guns and locks are my bitch, or had you forgotten?"

Kaiser and Victor shared a glance, and Victor nodded. "I'll keep an ear out to my sources in the building. As soon as I hear anything, you'll be the first to know. In the meantime, I'll get started on modding your suit to go in there."

"Thank you," I said to him, then turned to Hookwolf. "We can go at each other's throats and win the PRT's fight against us for them, or we can work together. What's it gonna be?"

He grimaced. "That's a no-brainer. Work together."

"Good," I said, with a smile I didn't really mean. "I'm gonna go read to Dad. Let me know when anything happens."

Turning, I left the room, but a spot between my shoulder-blades was beginning to itch. Hookwolf had nearly turned on me once. With the slightest of excuses, he might do it for real.

If he did, I'd be ready.

<><>​

Danny Hebert

It was hard to focus, but Danny thought he knew where he was. And it wasn't a good place. From the snatches of conversation he recalled from his more lucid moments (and he was self-aware enough to understand that the term 'lucid' was being generous) he was in the Medhall building, which was also the headquarters of the Empire Eighty-Eight. Worst of all, Taylor was both a cape and a member in good standing with the Empire.

He couldn't move his head more than a fraction of an inch in any direction, but he swivelled his eyes sideways toward the bulky oxygen tank that loomed alongside the bed. His life depended on the cannula that ran into his nose and down his throat. He'd seen this sort of thing before; at some point, the brain injury he'd suffered had hampered his ability to breathe on his own, and it was only the steady flow of oxygen into his lungs that kept him alive.

He'd grieved at the death of his nurse, though the actual sequence of events had been chaotic and confusing to his dulled senses. The new one was less of a nurse and more of a combat medic, if he was any judge. But the only people who spoke to him, much less held his hand, were Taylor and Peter.

He'd been aware that none other than Othala was working to heal the brain injury that had laid him low, but now she was gone. Dead, he suspected, from the attitudes of those around him. At least, she wasn't visiting him anymore. Which meant that the clarity and agency her healing had given him to this point was all he was ever going to get.

He could open his eyes and follow objects, after a fashion, but it tired him out. Likewise, he could move his hands slowly and grasp objects. The strength was still there, but he was lacking in dexterity. His legs were entirely out of his control; wriggling his toes was as far beyond him as jumping to the Moon.

But even if he'd been able to move his arms and legs enough to fall out of bed and crawl from the building, there would be no way to evade the members of the Empire (well-meaning and otherwise) who would stuff him back into his hospital bed.

And so, all he could do when Taylor walked in was lie there in the bed and squeeze her hand with his when she took it. She squeezed back, her smile lighting up her face.

"Hi, Dad. So, um, you'll be glad to know we got him." He knew his facial muscles weren't showing any kind of expression, but she must have picked up some hint of his puzzlement because she continued after a moment. "Coil, I mean. He had this underground base but he wasn't there, and it kind of blew up, and …" She visibly stopped herself. "Sorry, I was talking about Coil. The PRT arrested him, but he totally would've spilled the beans about the Empire and Medhall, so we took him out of the picture. Totally untraceably, too. They think it was a trigger-happy trooper. So between him and Lung, we got the bastards who crippled Mr Anders and killed Diane. And, you know, put you in this bed."

As he listened to her, his heart broke all over again. Before this whole mess had started, he would've given an arm and a leg to hear her chattering so happily again, but this was wrong. The Empire had taken his daughter and turned her into a killer. Worse, she believed in their cause now. And every time he tried to show he hated what she had become, she interpreted his hand-squeeze as approval.

"But there might be a problem." Her changed tone got all the attention he was capable of mustering. "Bradley. Well, you'd know him as Hookwolf. I used to think he was cool, but when Coil's base blew up, I think Cricket and Stormtiger were killed. Alabaster too, maybe, though it's more likely that he's trapped under the rubble."

Well, good, he thought, as fiercely as he could. His hand squeezed Taylor's in an attempt to convey this sentiment.

"Yeah, I'm worried too," she said, returning the squeeze. "If any of them are alive and the PRT dig them out, I'll totally be going in to spring them from custody. But it's Hookwolf I'm really worried about. He was never in favour of me being Mr Anders' second in command, and for some stupid reason, he blames me for the others being caught when the base collapsed. I'm beginning to wonder if I should do something about him."

He wanted to nod, to say something, to give her as undeniably positive an answer as he could manage. Of course she should do something about Hookwolf. If the Empire cape was a danger to her, then he needed to be dealt with.

"You think I should, don't you?" she asked. He squeezed her hand hard, and she squeezed back. "Yeah, me too." She paused then, and took a deep breath. "Okay, I need to think about that. In the meantime, I guess you want to know what's going to happen next."

There was a rustle from outside his field of vision, and then a book came into view. She opened it one-handed and began to read. Her hand was warm in his, and he closed his eyes to listen to her words.

<><>​

Armsmaster

Having his vision entirely blocked off was not an ideal situation, but Colin had planned for eventualities like this. His armour had the capability of scanning the area using radar and sonar—he'd gotten the idea from Cricket—then building a 3D model of the environment to throw onto his HUD. While it wouldn't account for people, at least he wouldn't be running into walls.

The radar was best for crisp imagery, but that simply wasn't working right now. Which meant that he had to depend on the sonar; static objects resolved better than moving ones, apparently because the black fog seemed to hamper sound as well (though not as badly as it did light).

He reached the top of the spiral staircase and moved forward, halberd raised in a defensive posture. The plasma blade had been taken offline, but he had injectable sedatives and a wireless taser for anyone stupid enough to face him off one-on-one.

The HUD showed him a wireframe view of a room with a sofa and what looked like a large-screen TV; a corridor led off toward other rooms. Flickering hints of movement told him that there was at least one person in the room with him; the software tried to fill in the gaps, but could only give him a best guess. Still, a best guess was better than nothing at all.

The HUD sketched out a human form half a second before a solid blow rammed into his abdomen, sending him back a step. He swung the halberd, trying to block any follow-up attacks, but it seemed his opponent—Grue, at his best estimation—was nobody's fool. The next blow hit his left forearm, apparently in an attempt to loosen his grip on the halberd. He maintained his grasp on the weapon, though it wasn't easy.

This could be a concern. The failsafe built into the halberd, where he could teleport it back to his hands, required a radio signal to get through to it. Inside Grue's darkness, no such signal would propagate. If he lost his halberd now, he would not be able to retrieve it so easily.

Resetting his grasp on the weapon, he pivoted and drove the butt of it toward the software's best approximation of the location of his opponent. There was the slightest hint of contact, as though Grue had twisted away, but nothing solid enough to warrant celebration.

This conclusion was borne out when a flicker of movement near the floor presaged a hammer-blow on his left shin. It nearly took his leg out from under him; he stumbled sideways, his halberd coming out of line as he used it to steady himself. He knew damn well that if Grue got him on the floor, he might have serious trouble getting up again.

Backing off, he brought the halberd around in a defensive manoeuvre, seeking to knock away any more attempts to take his legs out from under him. And then his HUD gave him another image; he levelled the halberd and triggered the wireless taser. Nothing happened; a moment later, he recalled that the weapon relied on a UV laser to ionise the air and carry the charge.

Grimacing, he jabbed forward with the butt of the weapon. The sonar gave him just enough of a sight picture for him to make contact. Again, Grue almost evaded the strike, but this time a brushing impact was enough. Electricity crackled.

While he couldn't get enough input to form a full image, he heard the thud easily enough.

The blackness around him faded away, and he saw Grue lying untidily on the floor before him. He never hesitated; taking a swift step forward, he jabbed the husky young man with a dose of sedative that would put him down for hours. One down, three to go.

A whistle and a bark were all the warning he got before a heavy impact took him from behind. He went down, rolling, and found one of Hellhound's massive dogs looming over him. It wasn't as big as they usually were when the young villains rode them across town, which was probably why they hadn't already decamped. It was big enough, however, to give him problems if he couldn't get up fast. Two more crowded into the room behind it.

"Hold!" shouted Hellhound, and heavy jaws clamped down on Colin's right forearm. He tried to level his halberd at her, but the dogs were in the way. The taser crackled anyway, causing one of the huge animals to spasm and fall away. Hellhound's next shout was pure anger.

As he tried to get to his feet, the dog yanked on his arm, pulling him off balance. Hellhound whistled again, and the other dog still standing lunged in to grab his other arm. Bringing his halberd around, Colin deflected the attempt, then reversed it and jabbed the first dog with the taser. It let out a strangled yelp and collapsed, releasing his arm.

"Don't hurt my dogs!" screamed Hellhound, then let out a more urgent whistle. The third dog was still growing in size with its skin beginning to split here and there; it leaped at him, jaws wide. He rolled to the side and came to his feet, then nailed Hellhound from across the room with the wireless taser. She collapsed, eyes rolling back in her head, but the dog didn't stop attacking. However, it did stop growing, for which he was grateful.

Even as he swung to deal with it, his right leg went out from under him and he went down again. Nothing had hit him this time, though he had his suspicions; when he saw Regent at the far end of the corridor, they were confirmed. Even as he levelled the taser to deal with the new interruption, the aggravating teen ducked back out of sight.

The dog came at him again, snarling ferociously. He fended it off, allowing it to seize the haft of the taser and pull it from his hands. This gave him the time to climb to his feet and move out of the line of the corridor. If Regent wanted to snipe him again, the boy would have to come a lot closer.

The dog shook the halberd back and forth then dropped it, preparatory to coming at him again. He found himself admiring the level of training; many attack dogs would have either lost interest by now or focused on the halberd. With a simple HUD command, he triggered the teleport, returning the halberd to his hand. The dog still came in, but he was ready for it this time; he gave it the heaviest jolt the wireless taser could deliver, putting it on the ground.

Hellhound was groaning her way back to sensibility when he reached her; her attempt to mumble a command to her equally-stricken dogs was foiled by a timely injection of sedative. Then he strode down the corridor, halberd ready to deliver a taser jolt to any importunate supervillains who might wish to ambush him.

Doors lined either side of the corridor, bearing artistic representations of the villains who apparently resided there, but he ignored them for the moment. It was Regent he needed to subdue, and the youthful villain had placed himself at the other end of the corridor. "Surrender, now!" he called out. "You can't get away."

"How about no?" Regent leaned into view, hand just beginning to gesture; Colin triggered the wireless taser, and the young idiot went down in a spasming heap. Keeping his guard up, Colin proceeded into what seemed to be a kitchen/dining area, with Tattletale nowhere to be seen. However, there were kitchen cupboards, a few of them standing just a little open, with saucepans and other utensils sitting untidily on the floor next to them. He dosed Regent with sedative on the way past, and sidled toward the nearest cupboard door.

<><>​

Tattletale

Shit, Alec's down. Take the bait, take the bait …

Lisa peered out through the slit in the bathroom door until Armsmaster's bulk vanished from sight. When she heard the clank of a saucepan being nudged aside, she eased it open and slipped out into the corridor. Moving as quietly as she could, she tiptoed back into the living area and bent over Brian's unconscious form.

Sorry, but there's no way I'd be able to get you out of here. Intuiting which pocket he had his keys in, she slid two fingers in and hooked them—

"Tattletale!"

At the bellow from the other end of the corridor, she yanked the keys out and bolted for the exit. Behind her, she heard Armsmaster's boots pounding along the hallway, but she'd long since practiced her next move; parking her butt on the stair rail, she slid all the way down in one dizzying swoop, far faster than she'd be able to make it on foot. He'd left the door wide open, which gave her the lead to get outside just before he got in range with that damn wireless taser of his.

Armsmaster's cycle was sitting just outside, but even if she'd been inclined to try to steal it, there was no way she had the time. Besides, it was probably fitted with an ejector seat specifically for idiots with bright ideas like that.

Brian's car was just down the street; she bolted for it, heedless of the rough pavement under her bare feet. Stabbing the key into the lock, she opened the door and slid behind the wheel. The engine turned over just as Armsmaster emerged from the doorway; she slammed it into gear and just barely avoided stalling it as she took off.

He was making for the cycle as she did so, and she had the sudden and uncomfortable insight—entirely unrelated to her power in this instance—that he'd be able to catch her easily once he got astride it. So she gritted her teeth and swung the wheel; he jumped back just in time, and the car jolted with a grinding noise all the way down the side. As she roared off down the street, she looked into the rear-view mirror. Armsmaster's bike was lying on its side, and he was in the process of getting it on its wheels again.

She took the next corner at speed, then slowed down and took two more corners at random before she even began to relax.

Okay, she told herself as she pulled into a handy parking garage to indulge in a good case of the shakes, what do I do now?

Because she had no boss, no hideout and no team, and Armsmaster would definitely be on her case from here on in.

Unless she thought of something good, her future in Brockton Bay was looking remarkably bleak.



End of Part Twenty-Eight

 

[Sonic]

The story lives!!!!!!

 

[Avernus]

"The entire damn bunker, plus half of the Downtown Mall, fell in on him." I shook my head in disbelief. "It's a miracle he wasn't crushed when the charges went off."

He grimaced. "Yeah, well. Now we know what those damn electromechanical switches were, that we were all wondering about. I honestly wouldn't have picked it. Who actually sets up a self-destruct for their own damn base?

Click to shrink...

Yeah; "base self destructs" are common enough in fiction, but there's a reason you don't see them in real life. Real life self destructs are typically things like small bombs on classified electronics, or anti-defusing devices on bombs. Wiring up a whole base to explode is just asking for disaster.

But Coil just had to have his underground Bond Villain base, and as a result a great many versions of Coil in various fanfics have had their base explode with or without them inside. If he could have figured out how, he'd have probably built his lair in a volcano suspended over a lake of lava just to really lean into the cliche.

 

[Jade Isentry]

he'd have probably built his lair in a volcano suspended over a lake of lava just to really lean into the cliche.

Click to shrink...

Bonus points for artistic/architectural use of lava-falls in the base design, with the ability to activate and deactivate them as passage blockers to trap and roast foolish unsuspecting heroes!

 

[Neko Tamo]

Hookwolf developing a grudge on Taylor is unfortunate and more than a bit unreasonable but not implausible either. No matter how he justifies it Hooky probably mainly dislikes Taylor because he is losing power and influence to her. Him blaming her on for his own recklessness is just motivated thinking and he will continue to find slights until things come to a head. I doubt Taylor will be able to avoid that bit of infighting unfortunately.

As for the slow and steady expansion plan, hmm. On one hand I get that the Empire is now the biggest and even only target in town therefore not giving the Protectorate clear targets makes sense.
However moving too slowly opens up the risk of a new threat rising to fill up the void, or perhaps coming from outside (Travelers, the Teeth or even S9 could be lured to BB).
Guess we will see how it works out for them.

Also I think it was refreshing to see the Undersiders trashed. Too often they get undue slack due to their canon position, and in a similar but reversed situation Armsmaster often gets clowned on in fanfics. So to see the reverse is very nice.
I wonder what Lisa will do? I think she is one of those people who wouldn't mind cutting a dream e with the Empire if it suits her.

And will you look at that Taylor is planning a breakout already. I could see Tattletale making that deal or even joining the Empire, both for her own safety and secondarily to help her teammates.

Anyhow a nice update.

I will probably aim to do a reread before the next update, I'm starting to forget some things. Hopefully I can have a bigger review then. Great job as always Ack and I'm very much looking forward to more of my favourite story.

 

[Avernus]

Hookwolf developing a grudge on Taylor is unfortunate and more than a bit unreasonable but not implausible either. No matter how he justifies it Hooky probably mainly dislikes Taylor because he is losing power and influence to her. Him blaming her on for his own recklessness is just motivated thinking and he will continue to find slights until things come to a head. I doubt Taylor will be able to avoid that bit of infighting unfortunately.

Click to shrink...

It's not just power and influence; she's been showing him up. She even outright compared him unfavorably to himself before the last Lung fight.

I keyed the radio mic. "No, what you need to beat Lung is an awareness of how to take away his strengths and get past his defenses. You've just been trying to fight him. I intend to kill him."

"Big words." Hookwolf's voice was a sneer. "There's no way you can do this on your own."

"You never laid a hand on Oni Lee, in all the time you were fighting him," I reminded him. "I broke his arm in our first encounter, and killed him in our second one. Now it's Lung's turn."

Click to shrink...

So far she's killed Oni Lee, Lung and Coil, while Hookwolf has killed...Stormtiger, by insisting on a face-to-face with Coil despite Remote warning him about the likelihood of traps. She's humiliated him, mostly without intending to but she did it all the same. Hookwolf doesn't strike me as the kind of man who responds well to being shown up like that.

And yeah I agree, sooner rather than later it's likely to result in a fight.

Also I think it was refreshing to see the Undersiders trashed. Too often they get undue slack due to their canon position, and in a similar but reversed situation Armsmaster often gets clowned on in fanfics. So to see the reverse is very nice.

Click to shrink...

Also, it was kind of funny for me to have to remind myself "Wait a minute. They're the villains. The villains. It's OK for Armsmaster to win" given how often they are on the protagonist's side and benefit from protagonist centered morality.