The Slippery Slope [Worm AU]

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