Wyvern - Worm AU fanfic

Wyvern

Part Twenty-Seven: Pitch, Interrupted

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Geonchugga

There were many flaws inherent in the powered armour Ha-joon had constructed for the troops, but those mainly had to do with all the functions he'd had to leave off to make them simple and easy to pilot. Even though he knew what he was doing and why, each powered suit felt unfinished as he handed it over to its user. The suit he was going to wear, which he'd completed already, had all the bells and whistles.

Standing in front of his men, each one wearing the power armour and carrying a shotgun—in this situation, firepower was more desirable than accuracy—he felt a swell of pride in them. Clearing his throat, he activated the speakers in the suit and addressed them.

"Attention, my warriors of the Azn Bad Boys. Today is an important day. This is something you've never done before." He paused, then added lightly. "I know this, because it's definitely something I've never done before."

There was laughter, and scattered applause.

Emboldened, he went on. "The forces standing against us are formidable. There is the PRT, there is the Protectorate, and there is Wyvern. But they are as nothing to our determination to free great Inago! This morning, he was sitting in a prison cell! This evening, he will dine among us, and take his place once more as our undisputed leader!"

The laughter became cheers, and his men held their fists high. A couple, in their enthusiasm, performed standing backflips. He waited for the echoes of metal crashing against concrete to die away before he spoke again.

"Now, you all have your instructions. You have been divided into four strike groups. Group A will enter the Weymouth Mall, take people hostage, and start robbing stores. Break many things, but don't hurt anyone who isn't being stupid. Group B will do the same thing at the Augustus Country Club. Group C will do the same at the Brockton Bay Central Bank. And I will lead Group D into the PRT building and free great Inago."

He had already appointed the steadiest of Inago's senior men to lead the other strike groups. The last thing he wanted was a kill order for causing his men and women to run rampant and murder dozens; the less pain caused by the freeing of Inago, the less likely that the PRT and Protectorate would mobilise against the ABB in the aftermath. At the end of the day, the fickle hand of fate willing, everything would be back to normal.

And he would be under Inago's orders again, back in the rank and file.

Why didn't that comfort him as much as it once would have?


Wyvern

I glanced from side to side; Sarah and Carol both gave me encouraging nods. "Okay, I'll hear your pitch." I held up my finger for a moment. "But before we get properly started, I think we're also going to need to record this, just so we're all on the same page about who agreed to what."

"Absolutely," agreed Hero. "My armour has a recording function. I can distribute copies afterward, as needed." He beamed at us all, clearly pleased at being able to make the offer.

Carol cleared her throat. "Not to disparage you or your integrity, but I will be making an independent recording. In addition, if we can all sit down, it will make this feel less rushed. The last thing I want is people leaving this meeting thinking they weren't given a fair shake in the matter." The critical gaze she levelled at Chief Director Costa-Brown clearly indicated whom she thought would be most likely to complain.

"I think that's a great idea." Legend led the way to the lounge and sat down in one of the armchairs. "Particularly the independent recording. Who knows what might happen to the original, especially if it wasn't to the liking of people in power?"

"Now, now." Hero's tone was only mildly censorious. "We all know that politicians are not immune to corruption, but let's not tar everyone here with the Washington brush, okay? I trust Rebecca to do the right thing, here."

"Sure." Legend gave his old friend and ex-teammate a smile that was belied by the content of his words. "Anyone can be trustworthy when they know they're being watched. It's what they do behind closed doors that worries me."

The Chief Director sat down, her expression as unconcerned as though she were relaxing in her own home. "Legend, I know we've had our differences in the past, but many of the issues that caused you to leave in the first place have since been addressed."

"Really?" Legend gestured toward the rest of us, raising an eyebrow. "Care to explain to our hosts exactly what those issues were, and how you addressed them?"

That caused Carol and Sarah to share a startled glance as they sat down, leaving a space for me on the sofa. I had no way of unpacking either their shared look or the meaning of Legend's question, but I got the distinct impression that there was a lot encoded into the latter that the Chief Director didn't want seeing the light of day. Even Hero's genial demeanour slipped a little at the words.

"I believe this is neither the time nor the place to air our dirty laundry." I had to hand it to the Chief Director; she had her poker face down pat. Without Hero's slip of expression, I might not have considered Legend's question to be particularly worrisome to them. Now, I was getting more and more curious as to exactly what this 'dirty laundry' entailed.

"Well, the phrasing is certainly accurate." Legend left it at that, though, and didn't push any harder. "I'm thinking I'll leave things as they are. It's amazing how liberating it is to be a free agent. I'm able to go places, ask questions, and get answers that nobody on your side of the fence has access to."

"Well, not nobody." Hero sounded just a little irritated at Legend's throwaway tone.

Legend grinned lazily at him. "You'd be surprised. If you start from the premise that you know everything, then by definition, you don't know what you don't know."

Sarah looked from Legend to Hero and back again. "I'm beginning to think this discussion isn't about Wyvern at all. If you can't be civil with each other, then I'm going to have to ask one or more of you to leave."

"I second that," cut in Carol before anyone else could speak. "You're all here on Wyvern's behalf, or at least you say you are. If you wish to prove it, kindly cease taking cheap shots at one another and apply yourselves to the matter at hand."

Legend lost his smile. "You're right." Holding up his hand, he made a cut-off gesture. "This isn't the time or the place. I apologise for my part in our little spat."

"As do I." The Chief Director afforded me a small nod. "So, Wyvern, what would you like out of a partnership arrangement?"

I paused, not totally sure what to say next. Legend cleared his throat; when I glanced at him, he shook his head fractionally and made a gesture I couldn't figure out.

"If I may?" asked Carol. The Chief Director's lips tightened fractionally. She didn't want Carol talking, which meant I did.

I spread my hands. "Sure, go ahead." I knew damn well she'd be acting in my best interests, which (if Legend were to be believed) wasn't necessarily the case for the Chief Director.

Funnily enough, despite Legend's evident bias against the PRT and Protectorate in general and the Chief Director in particular, I did indeed believe him. He stood to get nothing out of this, and had once been in a position to know exactly what both government organisations were willing to do in order to achieve their goals. There was likely no way in hell I'd actually learn most of what he knew about that, but right now it was enough that he was in my corner.

"I appreciate you coming this far." Carol's tone was formally polite. "However, I believe it would be only fair if you first told Wyvern what you were willing to offer for such an agreement. That way, we can decide exactly how serious you're being."

Ahh. That hadn't even occurred to me. While I didn't think they'd necessarily shoot down everything I asked for as being 'too much' and thus deliberately frame me as being greedy, it was definitely a valid negotiating tactic. This way, they'd have to decide how much to offer, and we'd have the leeway to critique their suggestions. ('We' in this case being Carol and Sarah; I was very much the spectator in all this.)

The Chief Director's expression tightened a fraction, and Hero didn't look too thrilled either. I was getting the strong impression he hadn't come along to screw me out of any concessions, but neither did he intend to just roll over and hand me the keys to the PRT. That said, he'd clearly spotted the trap inherent in Carol's counter-offer.

"Very well." I had to give the Chief Director kudos for grace under fire. Her every tell stated that she was totally in control of the situation. Unfortunately, she'd already violated one of the fundamental rules of negotiation (as told to me by Carol) already—never let the opposition know how badly you need to close the deal—and so she was very much on the back foot for this. "We are prepared to offer an ongoing stipend for you to be on-call for other S-class threats, and of course Endbringers."

Carol cleared her throat. "And?"

The Chief Director looked at me. I looked straight back; as far as I was concerned, Carol was running the show.

She drew in air through her nostrils, then let it out again. I fancied I could hear her grinding her teeth. "And danger pay for each such battle that you show up to."

Sarah raised two fingers a little and glanced at Carol. Her sister nodded, so she turned to the Chief Director. "Plus a bonus if she actually ends the threat while she's there, if there isn't already a cash reward for killing it."

That put a slight damper on the conversation. I knew how powerful the wyvern could get, and even I couldn't imagine killing an Endbringer.

A few seconds passed, then the Chief Director nodded curtly. "Agreed. Was that it?"

"Hardly." Carol was in full hard-charging lawyer mode now. "Wyvern needs to have the option to step down from her on-call status at any time outside an actual S-class situation. If she has a family emergency or even if she just needs to de-stress and wind down, whether she can just drop everything and go shouldn't be at the whim of some PRT bean-counter." She raised an eyebrow. "Or do you want someone who can literally disintegrate an entire city down to the bedrock getting pissed off and deciding it's not worth playing by the rules anymore?"

I wouldn't want to have been the Chief Director's orthodontist; from the way the muscles were bulging in her jaw, she had to have been clenching her teeth pretty hard. But then she put on a fairly good pretence of relaxing, and nodded. "That can be arranged, yes."

Hesitantly, I put my hand up. "Uh … one other thing."

Every eye in the room turned toward me. Carol's lips twitched, as though she wanted to tell me to shut up, but then she controlled herself. "Yes, Wyvern?" I could feel the sorry-but-no polite rebuttal she had loaded and ready to go, in case I said something detrimental to the protections they were trying to put in place for me.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my thoughts so that I could make this sound right. "I can fly pretty good, and I can breathe some nasty stuff, but I've never had any formal training in fighting. Hero said something about training me up so I can handle combat and tactics and stuff. Is that still on the table?"

Hero smiled for the first time. "It certainly is. Now that we've seen your capabilities both in a controlled test and in the field, I'd be honoured to help you build your skills in that area."

"Wait one second." Legend held up a finger. "If you're going to do this, Wyvern, I'd like to help train you as well. Just to make sure the job's done properly."

"Really." Hero may have raised an eyebrow; I couldn't tell. "I'm wondering if I should feel offended that you don't trust me."

"I'd actually like that, too," I said hastily. "I mean, Legend is really good what he does. Two teachers, with different styles, would make sure I learned more, right?"

"I agree with Wyvern." Carol looked coolly at Hero. "Having you two work together to train her is a good idea, and I'd also be happier if someone were there who wasn't under pressure to recruit her directly into the Wards or Protectorate."

For a moment, Hero looked like he wanted to protest that he wouldn't be under such pressure, but he never said a word. We all knew it wouldn't be true anyway. The Chief Director might not give him direct orders, but just a glance from her would be pressure enough.

"… fine," he conceded at last, then smiled. It even looked genuine. "It'll be good to be working alongside you again. I have missed that."

Legend returned the smile. "So have I. The issues I had were never with you personally. Just the organisation you work for." His gaze fell upon the Chief Director. "Both of you."

Again, I felt I was missing some kind of subtext, from the way Hero looked uncomfortable and the Chief Director frowned slightly.

"That appears to be settled then," she said. "Do you have any other requirements?"

"Yes." It was Sarah who spoke up again. "The chain of command. Carol mentioned making sure that none of your people could just deny her the option of stepping away from being on call. I'd like to expand on that. There needs to be a clear-cut understanding of who can give her orders in the field. We do not want someone who has zero idea of her real capabilities going on a power trip and getting their eardrums blown out, the way she did with Armsmaster."

Well, that removed all question of whether she'd heard the details of that little incident from Vicky and Amy. From the grin on Legend's face, so had he. Hero tried not to smile as well, but was only moderately successful. The Chief Director had a phenomenal poker face when she chose to use it; now was such a time, which meant to me that she'd gotten chapter and verse.

"Just to set the record straight, I didn't even know I could talk right then, until he irritated me to the point where I yelled at him." I wasn't sure who I was trying to reassure, but I felt it had to be said. "I don't have a sonic attack, exactly. When I'm big, I'm just … loud."

Legend nodded. "Trust me, we got that part. And nobody blames you for the Armsmaster incident. You'd dealt with the villains quite handily, and he kept pushing you while you were still coming down from the adrenaline, and dealing with the fact that you'd grown a few sizes."

"Did you hear about the Shadow Stalker thing?" Hero asked him. "That was quite impressive as well."

Legend tilted his head slightly. "Not all the details. That was the one where Miss Militia was injured, correct? And a school burned down?"

"Shadow Stalker set that fire, not me." I had every right to be defensive, given that I'd already set the school on fire once before that point. "And it didn't burn all the way down. Just … well, part of it." I didn't voice my opinion that not enough had burned down, because that probably wouldn't help my case.

"And then Wyvern sniped Stalker with an explosive fireball from three hundred yards." Hero sounded positively proud of me. "Flash-burned her hair off, third degree burns over a good portion of her body, and a dozen broken bones. She's still not looking her best, and as soon as she recovers, she's going straight back into juvey."

"Just another point here." I hadn't meant to speak up again, but they were specifically talking about stuff I'd done. "She'd just set Winslow on fire, killed a bunch of PRT troopers, and shot Miss Militia in the stomach with a crossbow. If she'd gotten away, Dad and I would've been looking over our shoulders forever. She would've come after us, to shut us up and because she likes hurting people. So, I stopped her from getting away."

Carol cleared her throat. "Just to clarify matters, Wyvern shouldn't even have been there, given that she had a history of being bullied extensively by Stalker and others, but someone arranged for her to be forced to go back, in an attempt to set her up for a fall. We're still not sure who that might be, but the local PRT and Protectorate have all signed off on her actions as being entirely justified." Her look of determination laid down the gauntlet. Try and reverse that, and you'll have a fight on your hands.

"Which they self-evidently were." Hero made the statement plainly. "Whatever else we discuss today, that's not in question. Don't you agree, Chief Director?"

Whether the Chief Director did or not, Carol had made her stand and Hero was on record as agreeing with it. We all knew she could technically override him, but that would send a very definite signal, one I didn't think she wanted to send.

"I do." Her tone was as bland as though the whole thing had been her idea from the beginning. "Her actions were entirely in line with self-defense, defense of others, and apprehending a dangerous suspect. I've read the report submitted by Armsmaster regarding the incident, and his description of her actions is nothing short of glowing."

I hadn't known that last part. Armsmaster had been polite and respectful to me in the aftermath, but that could've just been him being professional. The fact that he'd said nice things about me (or at least she was saying so, which basically came to the same thing) put our interactions into a whole new light.

"And so they should've been." Carol wasn't letting up for an instant. "You do know why he was there, yes?"

"An anonymous tip, yes." The Chief Director's tone gave no indication of her opinion on the matter. "I understand these things happen from time to time on the cape side of things."

"An anonymous tip by someone who specifically wanted to railroad Wyvern into the Protectorate. How often does that happen?" Carol raised her eyebrows interrogatively.

The Chief Director gave the impression of someone smiling while maintaining a deadpan expression. "I honestly couldn't tell you the stats on that. It certainly isn't very common. Nor is it in the least bit ethical."

No shit, Sherlock. I raised my head slightly. "Uh, just out of curiosity. If they'd managed to railroad me like that, would you have let them follow through with it, or cut me loose?"

She regarded me coolly. "If they'd been successful, then I wouldn't even be involved. It would all depend on whether you were able to convince Director Piggot that it wasn't really your fault, absent evidence to the contrary."

Sarah's eyebrows drew down. "This isn't raising my expectations about the treatment Wyvern might get if someone else manages to slip one past the PRT's bullshit filters, just saying. I think there needs to be a clause in there about that. Also, we need to make sure that a specific clause doesn't make it in."

Carol looked over at her sister. "You mean, nothing gets in along the lines of, 'If Wyvern perpetrates X, she is to be shoehorned into the Wards'? Yeah, if something like that gets tried, I'm tearing the whole thing up." Looking back toward the Chief Director, she met the woman's gaze head-on. "I mean it. After your screwups, you don't get to dangle threats over her head. You want cooperation? It's on our terms, or not at all."

Sarah nodded. "And the other clause that needs to go in there is that if Wyvern is accused of committing some atrocity or other, one that would absolutely require her to either be remanded in custody or go into the Wards, an independent body is to be convened that will investigate the incident from the point of view that she didn't do it. I've heard enough from Carol about cops and prosecutors withholding exculpatory evidence, and in her case you'd have a huge reason to do so. 'Conflict of interest' doesn't even come close to covering it."

"Hmm." Carol rubbed at her lips. "Interesting concept, and I agree in principle. But there's a lot of legal problems inherent in that, and you're basically outlining what the defense team is expected to do anyway." She took her hand away from her face, and raised a finger. "What I've got in mind is a lot simpler. If Wyvern is ever accused of any kind of egregious crime, the PRT pays her defense costs. Simple as that. We choose the defense team, you pay the bills."

"Whoa, wait a minute, time out." Hero even made the 'T' gesture with his hands as he protested. "Unless I'm totally misreading the situation, you seem to be expecting someone to do this, and working from the point of view that it'll be perpetrated by the PRT or under their orders."

Legend raised his eyebrows. "And you think it won't? There's already been one attempt so far. Power-wise, Wyvern is head and shoulders—literally—above every other cape in the city, and for quite some distance in all directions. For every person who's got a reason to thank her, I figure I can point out one who wants to pull her down in some way. Whether it's a villain who's worried about her, or a bureaucrat who wants to control her."

Carol nodded. "And besides, if it never happens, you've got nothing to worry about."

Hero grimaced, but subsided. I got the distinct impression that he wanted to protest further; the trouble was, if he did, he would look pointlessly obstructive and he knew it. Or worse: he'd look like he was planning something of that sort, and didn't want to get caught out.

I didn't personally believe that last part. We'd spoken extensively while prepping for the test, as well as afterward, and everything I'd seen pointed to his sincerity and honesty. However, there was always the chance of someone inside the PRT or Protectorate doing something stupid, and he was probably concerned about that.

Legend also seemed to pick up on that. "Worried someone might try taking her down, or taking her in, on your behalf? I strongly suggest that you give orders to cover that scenario. You too, Becky. Don't want any more scandals darkening your door now, do we?"

My head came up; I'd been unaware of any such scandals, and I wanted to hear more. Carol and Sarah—and Vicky and Amy, and Mark and Neil, all of whom had been spectating from the background—looked similarly intrigued. But I said nothing. If Legend wanted the story told, he'd tell it.

"I wouldn't exactly say there's been scandals—" began Hero, putting on a brave front.

Legend interrupted him ruthlessly. "I would. Or they would've been, if the Protectorate and PRT hadn't suppressed them." He raised an eyebrow. "And that doesn't even count the three separate times someone's taken a shot at me since I walked away from the Protectorate. High-powered rifle, shooter paid via anonymous dead-drop. And one of them was PRT."

Hero spoke up hastily. "Ex-PRT. I followed that one up. He'd been let go, six months before, for conduct unbecoming."

Legend's expression showed patent disbelief. "Of course he had. It just wouldn't do to have me popped by a current employee of the PRT, would it? The media shitstorm would be so far beyond epic, you'd both lose your jobs, and the funding for both the PRT and Protectorate would be slashed like pumpkin prices on November first."

The Chief Director frowned slightly. "Are you accusing me, in front of witnesses, of orchestrating deliberate attempts on your life? Be very careful about what you're saying, here."

"I made no such statements." Legend's tone was as bland as his expression. "I merely asked the same questions that any rational person in my situation would ask." He turned to Carol. "Mrs Dallon, did you hear an accusation in any part of what I said?"

"I did not," agreed Carol, equally blandly. "Chief Director, Hero, do either of you have any objection to what we've already agreed on, including Legend assisting in Wyvern's training? We still have to nail down exact numbers, of course, keeping in mind that Wyvern still has college in front of her yet."

Legend smiled. "I am entirely in favour of the PRT paying for Wyvern's future education. It's about time they did something for capes instead of just exploiting them. Hero?"

I couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of sympathy for Hero at that point. He was a legitimately nice guy, but the Chief Director was a hardass of the highest order and we all knew he'd be expected to follow her lead. His eyes flicked from Legend to me to Carol to his boss, while his expression grew ever more hunted.

"… we can, uh, look at the numbers and see what we come up with, sure," he prevaricated at last.

Carol's expression would've made the average great white shark back away nervously and seek healthier climates. "Yes," she agreed. "We will."


Geonchugga

The truck was slow and its suspension was rough, but that was the best they were going to get even after Geonchugga had applied his skills to it. A dozen men and women in powered armour did not make for a light load; had he not reinforced the vehicles, they would've broken down after a hundred yards. As it was, they were rumbling through Brockton Bay at a steady pace, hitting every pothole (or so it felt) on the back streets as they went.

He'd built radios into each set of armour, but for the purpose of simplicity, only the team leaders had the range to reach across the city; the others were merely for communications within their own team. This slowed things down slightly when it came to getting ongoing reports, but prevented every person on the strike force from hogging the airwaves. It also meant that as the truck rolled onward, he could listen in on the progress of the three decoy groups.

Group B had the farthest to go, so they'd started off first. Groups A and C were already on station, just waiting for the word to proceed. The truck he was in had been held up in traffic, so he was a little behind schedule, but that didn't matter. Great Inago wasn't waiting on a deadline, after all.

He keyed his radio, contacting the driver in the cab. "How long until we reach our destination?" Even now, it was wise to not speak such phrases as 'PRT building' over the air in case someone was listening.

"Five minutes. No more." The driver didn't address him as 'honoured one' for the same reason that he hadn't mentioned the PRT building. Their communications had to be as unremarkable as possible.

"Good." He keyed to the channel used by the other strike group leaders. "Group B, how copy?"

"Group B copies loud and clear. Just pulling into the parking lot now, over."

"Good. All groups, commence operations on my word. Acknowledge orders."

"Group A acknowledges."

"Group B acknowledges."

"Group C acknowledges."

A heady feeling of wild excitement swelled in his chest. Like a magician from the old stories, he was about to speak words that would unleash chaos and fury across the city. "Excellent. Commence."

Flicking the radio onto the team channel, he took a deep breath before speaking. "The decoy operations are commencing now. We will be in position in five minutes. Ready yourselves."

Almost as one, they all sat up straighter, but he had more to do. Flicking the radio to another citywide channel, he spoke yet again. "Pigeon One, Seagull One, Lizard One, the hour has come."

Pigeon One was a spotter emplaced near the PRT building, ready to report on trooper movements. Likewise, Seagull One was on the Boardwalk, taking photos of anything and everything in sight but keeping an eye on the Protectorate base. And Lizard One was sitting in a parked car around the corner from the Dallon house—Ha-joon wasn't stupid enough to assume New Wave wouldn't check out every suspicious loiterer within sight of the house itself—with a clear view of the sky above.

"Pigeon One, ready. No movement."

"Seagull One, ready. The bridge is open." That was useful information. The force field bridge meant that one or more land-bound capes from the Protectorate base were about to move out.

"Lizard One, ready. No movement." The New Wave fliers would be fairly obvious when they took off, and Wyvern triply so.

"Good. Keep me posted." He turned the radio back to the strike group channel, knowing that he would get an alert if any of the lookouts tried to get hold of him. There were no progress reports as yet, but he knew they would come.

His men and women were used to the suits by now, and would be more than a match for any security guards they encountered. In a very short time, there would be urgent calls for help coming in from the three targeted locations, alerting the PRT and Protectorate capes within the city. They would be forced to split their teams three ways to deal with all the emergencies at once, only leaving a skeleton team behind in the PRT building.

Ha-joon had only ever been mediocre at chess, but in this moment he felt like a grandmaster, moving his pawns across the board in preparation for a devastating checkmate.

I was born for this.


Wyvern

Hero had an electronic pad in his hand, but I would've put long odds against it being a commercial model. "Okay, so if we assume—" He paused as the Chief Director's phone rang, then his joined in shortly after.

I was just starting to wonder what was up in the wider world of the PRT and Protectorate when Carol's phone also rang. Chief Director Costa-Brown had hers out by now, and Hero was subvocalising inside his helmet, or at least his lips were moving. Carol answered her phone, and her eyes widened.

"Well, something's going on." Sarah looked around at the three of them. "Would any of you like to fill the rest of us in?"

"It's the … Asian Bad Boys?" Hero didn't sound certain of the name. "They're using powered-armour troops to raid a bank, a mall and a country club. There are hostages."

"Ugggh." I facepalmed as a bad feeling began to build. "Are they calling me out by name?"

The Chief Director frowned. "Not that I've been informed of. Do you think this is because you captured Inago?"

I shrugged. "Well, what else could it be? If they're not challenging me directly, this has gotta be their way of saying that they can't be counted down and out. Maybe they'll threaten to kill the hostages if Inago isn't released or something."

Hero shook his head. "That's been tried before. It just gets kill orders. If the PRT backed down for hostage takers, they'd never keep a prisoner."

"It doesn't mean these idiots won't try anyway." Carol's tone was remarkably cynical. "The ABB's been getting away with a lot of crap for a long time, mainly because they've had the backing of Inago. If I had to guess, I'd say they can't imagine not being able to do what they want in this city."

Now that the discussion had moved away from my potential partnership with the PRT, Vicky evidently felt comfortable with interjecting. "Yeah, that's gonna fly. We're gonna have to take them down, once and for all."

I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. "So, we're talking the Central Bank and the Augustus Country Club, yeah?" There were several malls they could be at.

The Chief Director nodded curtly. "Do you have any insights on how to deal with them?"

I glanced at Vicky and Sarah. "I think so, for the country club anyway. Me and a couple of others could deal with that one, all by ourselves."

Carol didn't look thrilled at the idea. "Wyvern, can you still fit inside the building when you're big enough to use non-flame attacks? Because I'm pretty sure that fire isn't going to be the best idea here, and if you just do a frontal attack, they'll start killing hostages."

"They're using shotguns," Hero interjected. "In case that helps."

"It totally does." I nodded. "Vicky, Mrs Pelham. We got this." And I explained how.

"Damn right we do." Vicky gave me a high five.

"Well, okay then." Hero looked and sounded downright impressed. "We'll focus on the other two locations, then. I should be able to Tinker up something similar."

Sarah glanced at the Chief Director. "If you can have some troopers sent out that way to collect the prisoners once we've dealt with them, that would be great."

"That can be done." Chief Director Costa-Brown was all business now. "We'll revisit this after we've dealt with the problem at hand."

"Great." I glanced at Vicky. "Imma go Change. Want to come give me a hand with the doorknob?"

"Sure." Vicky followed me toward the stairs. "We'll be down in a second, Aunt Sarah."

"There's another strong possibility," the Chief Director noted as we headed upstairs. "That these are distractions for a breakout attempt on Inago. In which case …"


Geonchugga

All three diversionary attacks were going well. Resistance had been minimal, as expected, and there had been no casualties among his forces. They hadn't even had to hurt anyone seriously; the security guards had dropped their weapons and put their hands up as soon as they'd seen what they were up against.

The lookouts had done their jobs as well, though they had reported one potential snag. Heroes leaving the Protectorate base and troopers driving out of the PRT building were as per expectations, but Lizard One had noted not only the New Wave fliers (and Wyvern) leaving the Dallon house, but also Hero and someone who looked remarkably like Legend. A member of the Triumvirate, as well as an ex-member of the core Protectorate, were threats in the making, but Ha-joon told himself that all was still under control.

As effective as Hero and Legend were, they were still just individual capes. They couldn't be all over the city at once, so it didn't matter. The gang members on those sites would be more likely to suffer capture than their fellows, but they should be honoured to be trading their freedom for that of great Inago.

All Ha-joon could think was, I hope he will be appreciative of their sacrifice.

The timer in his helmet ticked down to zero. "Go!" he commanded over the team channel. "Go, go, go!"

They piled out of the back of the truck in short order. Once they were clear, the last man out closed the rear doors and slapped them twice. The truck moved off again; it would be much harder to disable their transport if it wasn't sitting there in the one spot.

Ha-joon was already heading for the main doors. Pigeon One had reported multiple vehicles leaving the PRT building just minutes earlier, which meant the coast was as clear as it would ever be. He had no idea how many troopers were left in the building, but it had to be far fewer than before he'd started his attacks.

The doors were locked; or at least, they didn't open when he stepped up to them. That was fine. He hadn't been expecting to depend on the PRT just letting him walk right in.

Raising his armoured fist, he fired four heavy explosive penetrators into the doors. As obdurate as the thick polycarbonate was, it couldn't stand up to such close-range assaults; the doors starred from the impacts, then disintegrated altogether when the payloads detonated. Beyond, the roller-door would have proven no obstacle to his armour anyway, but the blast wave from the explosive penetrators dealt with it before he had to.

Stepping through the ruins of the barrier, he encountered PRT troopers rushing into the lobby. Two had assault rifles, while the other two hefted containment foam sprayers. Even as the rifles opened up, the bullets ricocheting from his armour like so many raindrops, he enveloped the room with a spray of his own. The water-based lubricant made the floor so slick that all four troopers lost their footing in seconds. Finally, a shot from the laser on his right forearm breached one of the foam tanks, enveloping the troopers in a mass of the sticky yellow stuff.

The soles of his boots were highly water-repellent; where the troopers had lost all traction on the tiled floor, he strode through in full confidence for his footing. His people followed, shotguns up and ready for action. "Two of you guard the door!" he commanded. "Don't let anyone block us in!"

"Yes, honoured one." The last two bowed respectfully. Their response time had reduced dramatically since he'd first assumed temporary command of the Azn Bad Boys. He smiled inside his helmet; this was something he could get used to.

A tiny voice deep inside told him that Inago would be jealous of the stature he had gained within the gang, but he ignored it. He had a mission, and nothing would stand in his way. Not the Protectorate, not the PRT, nobody.

Previous moles within the PRT building had provided a reasonable layout to work with. He headed for the only elevator in the lobby that went down to the holding-cell level. It was, predictably, locked down. The hacking software in his suit could possibly have overridden it, but he chose not to take the time. Instead, he disabled the other elevators, then blew open the doors of the correct one and blasted a hole in the floor.

More PRT troopers were swarming out of the stairwell by now, but his people had the situation well in hand. Where their specific combat training was lacking, their power armour gave them the edge in strength and durability, and they were able to get into close combat where containment foam could not be used. They'd sparred with each other, but this was the first chance they'd had to go all-out against an opponent, and they were revelling in the moment.

Attaching a rappelling cable to the interior of the elevator—he'd be using his boot jets on the way up, but it was better to conserve the fuel—he dropped into the shaft, drawing ever closer to his goal.

They said it couldn't be done. Well, I'm doing it.


Wyvern

We were halfway to the Augustus Country Club—Sarah providing an aerodynamic shell and Vicky adding her flight speed—when Sarah's cell-phone rang. Taking it out of its pouch, she put it on speaker. "Hello, Director Piggot. Glory Girl, Panacea and Wyvern are also on the call."

"Understood. Situation update: as well as the other attacks, the ABB is assaulting the PRT building with powered-armour troops. Had you concluded an agreement between Wyvern and the PRT?"

"Not yet." Sarah's eyes met mine. I rolled my eyes in response to her unspoken comment. Had the partnership been laid out and agreed on in full, Piggot may well have attempted to order me back to defend her building. "Besides, we're committed to clearing out the Augustus Country Club. Who are they coming after, you or Inago?"

"Inago, it seems." With that admission was a tacit acceptance that the loss of a prisoner was less important than the danger to the country club staff and patrons. "We've ramped up our security on the prison level, but they're forcing their way through anyway." I could almost hear her teeth gritting over that last part.

"Well, once we finish at Augustus, we'll be heading your way. Lady Photon, out." Sarah cut the call and glanced at the rest of us.

I was in wyvern form so I couldn't comment, but Vicky was capable of doing so for both of us. "Holy shit, they're actually going for it. They're busting Inago out of holding."

I chirped in agreement, then growled. It was very irritating; I'd spent a lot of effort capturing that asshole in the first place.

"And she wasn't at all happy that Taylor was already on the way out here." Amy put her arm around me for a comforting side-hug. "She really wants to be able to tell you what to do, instead of asking."

This time, my chirp was as sarcastic as I could make it, aided and abetted with an expressive roll of my eyes. Vicky snorted with amusement. "Hah, you're not wrong. That's every person in authority ever."

Sarah smiled briefly, then became serious as she indicated the main building of the Augustus Country Club, just coming into view. "Okay, enough of the chit-chat. Game faces on. Vicky, Taylor: you're up."

Of course I knew I was up. This was my damn plan.

As the surrounding force field opened up, I jumped out and spread my wings. Vicky also flew out, but while I maintained altitude, she streaked for the ground. There were two guys (or maybe girls) out on the portico of the country club, but while they tracked her with their weapons, they didn't fire, mainly because she wasn't going for them or the front doors. Also, I was pretty sure they only had shotguns, not longer-range weapons.

In the meantime, I was going for size. Lots and lots of size.

As Sarah kept the force-field pod holding Amy out of my wing-reach—with every wingbeat, I covered more and more area—I expanded with every intake of breath. This wasn't like Eagleton, or even Ellisburg. No innocents had been at risk, then. Neither was it even like the thing with the Nine. This time around, I had all the tools for the job, and I intended to use them correctly.

By the time I was up past airliner size, and casting a significant shadow over the ground below, two more armoured guys had shown up on the portico. My improved dragon-sight gave me details about their armour, and even—once I went to the violet form with silver highlights—let me see exactly where everyone was in the building. It seemed they were all gathered in the main dining hall, with powered-armour goons surrounding the hostages.

I could also see the electricity flowing throughout the whole building: lighting, appliances, heating, the works. And then, as Vicky ripped the cover off the main power breaker and flipped the switch, all that died. The only sources of electricity within the building were the ABB idiots in their power armour.

Why, thank you. I don't mind if I do.

I hadn't wanted to try this while the mains were on, in case I burned out every wire in the building, but this was a whole different matter. Breathing out through my nostrils, I paused for a moment then inhaled. My lungs were enormous by now, and it took a lot to fill them, but along with the air came all the ambient electricity in the building below.

In an instant, the goons on the portico were frozen, trying to lift their guns while wearing a hundred pounds or more of inert metal on their bodies. Before they could get used to the changed situation, Vicky was there, smashing into them and ripping the shotguns from their hands. Then she headed into the building proper; reducing in size, I flew down after her, with Sarah and Amy following close behind.

By the time we got inside, all the powered armour idiots were down. Vicky, it seemed, really enjoyed her work. She looked around at us with a broad grin, in the process of bending the last shotgun into an entirely unnecessary horseshoe, and gave me a thumb's up.

"That was awesome!" she exulted. "Wyvern, you kicked ass!"

"Not over yet," Sarah cautioned her. "Panacea?"

"On it." Amy stepped out of the force field bubble and approached the hostages, who were all still sitting on the floor. "Does anyone here have a pacemaker?"

Three of the older men raised their hands, and she made her way over to them. There was nothing I could do to assist there, and it was probably better for me to just stand there and look pretty for the released hostages, so I did that. Vicky and I shared a satisfied nod, though.

The Augustus Country Club was clear, but the larger crisis still beckoned.

One way or another, the ABB was going down today.



End of Part Twenty-Seven