Aftermath (Worm AU)

[Ack]

Methinks this will not end well for Sophia.

I know I have a image that fits this somewhere....AHAH!

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HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Love it.

Picture saved.

 

[Ack]

This. Is. Pure. Gold.

I find that story to be one of your most interesting one, Ack. It's perhaps a bit loaded, with Danny triggering, Taylor swarm-less and the whole Greg's subplot. My only constructive criticism at the moment is that it does feel as if everything is crashing around Sophia. I felt it was a bit much when I arrived at the mention of Greg's private messages.

Click to shrink...

No, the irony is that if Greg had mentioned that a few moments earlier (never mind that the police might never find the private message log) he would have been saved.

With Taylor's diary to send the investigation toward Greg, it felt the private log bit was redundant.

Click to shrink...

I presume you meant "toward Sophia".

The manner which Sophia set up Greg's death is something I couldn't help but be amused at, mostly because I could imagine an agravated Overlord Skitter in canon strangling Greg if her bugs found him 'enjoying' inappropriate images of her + revealing he knew her identity.

Click to shrink...

Oh god, they'd never find his body.

Also, props for Taylor not letting people take the diary away, when so many authors would have let Taylor realize whom they were and let them, or straight attack them if believing in a cover up. I do feel slightly sad that the secret of Taylor's current state will be blow up so quickly, it gave a kind of ghostly air to the story.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, well, all good things come to an end.

 

[Inverness]

Wow.

 

[ArnaudB]

No, the irony is that if Greg had mentioned that a few moments earlier (never mind that the police might never find the private message log) he would have been saved.

Click to shrink...

Point. That occurred to me, but secondly.

I suppose my expectations of Greg's odds of survival through intelligence and charisma were a tad too low.

I presume you meant "toward Sophia".

Click to shrink...

I had more in mind the photos of Taylor that Greg has on his computer, thus linking the cases. But yes, the diary will more lead to Sophia. It might be why I feel there 'too much' things, we've two different leads colliding toward Sophia rather than a string of evidences found one after another (because of omniscient viewpoint.)

 

[Navrin]

Really, Sophia, you should read more. You should know that this kind of plan leads to you killing everyone that notices that you're killing people and results in losing your hat. And any plan that involves losing your hat is a bad plan.

http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/comic.php?date=20031017

 

[Chojomeka]

Oh this is gong to end with Sophia in the Birdcage isn't it?

 

[Ack]

Point. That occurred to me, but secondly.

I suppose my expectations of Greg's odds of survival through intelligence and charisma were a tad too low.

I had more in mind the photos of Taylor that Greg has on his computer, thus linking the cases. But yes, the diary will more lead to Sophia. It might be why I feel there 'too much' things, we've two different leads colliding toward Sophia rather than a string of evidences found one after another (because of omniscient viewpoint.)

Click to shrink...

Why will the photos on Greg's computer lead toward Sophia?

 

[Ack]

Oh this is gong to end with Sophia in the Birdcage isn't it?

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If she's lucky.

 

[powerofvoid]

If she's lucky.

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No, if she's lucky she'll die a quick and painless death before it gets that far.

 

[Chojomeka]

If she's lucky.

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No, if she's lucky she'll die a quick and painless death before it gets that far.

Click to shrink...

Seriously Ack don't give this Sophia a mercy kill let her see her crimes and be labeled as a horrific villain...and then send her to the one place she can't escape from.

 

[pepperjack]

the one place she can't escape from

Click to shrink...

A bundle of Christmas lights plugged into a wall socket?

 

[turbinicarpus]

This gives us reasonable suspicion.

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Isn't the legal standard for searching someone's residence "probable cause"?

 

[Ack]

Isn't the legal standard for searching someone's residence "probable cause"?

Click to shrink...

They have a reasonable suspicion, which gives them probable cause?

EDIT: Looked at it, thought about it, decided to change it

 

[Ack]

Aftermath

Part Seven: Pieces of the Puzzle


Tuesday Night

"You have got to be kidding," Emily Piggot stated flatly. "What are the odds of that sort of thing happening?"

"Don't ask me, ma'am," Kelly replied. "But it fits all the available facts."

And he was right; it did. More than that, she had heard of stranger things happening. Had seen a few of them with her own eyes.

"Very well," she decided. "Get back here as soon as you can. If Taylor Hebert has really moved her mind into a swarm of bugs, we need to figure out how to get in contact with her before things start going south." Or neutralise her, if necessary, she didn't say out loud.

"What about the photos?" asked Rogers over the phone. "Those bugs thought the notes were pretty damn important."

"Unless they were written after she died and ended up inhabiting a swarm of bugs, I don't think they're relevant to the case at hand," she replied. "Keep them, but they're secondary right now. Report to me once you get back; I want to hear every detail."

"On the way, ma'am," he replied. The line went dead; she put the phone down.

Then she picked it up again, and tapped in a number.

"Ready room, Captain Wills speaking."

"This is Director Piggot. I need half a dozen men, ready to move out in ten minutes or less."

"Can do, ma'am. What's the situation?"

"I need them to go to a house in the suburbs and cordon it off. No-one enters. And Wills?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"All men are to be fully covered at all times. They will breathe filtered air only. Refreshment and rest breaks are to be taken off site. Do you understand?"

"Message received and understood, ma'am."

"Good. I'm texting you the address now. Piggot out."

She hung up the desk phone, picked up her mobile, and typed in the address of the Hebert house. A few button-taps later, and she had sent it on to Wills' phone. Dropping the mobile back on her desk, she leaned back and sighed. Okay, what now?

With another sigh, she pushed herself to her feet. Time to go tell Daniel Hebert that his daughter's alive. Sort of.

<><>​

"Mr Hebert."

Danny looked up from his contemplation of the floor tiles. "Hello?"

"It's the Director, Mr Hebert. Sorry about taking so long to get back to you."

"To be honest, I thought you'd forgotten me for the night."

"Not yet, Mr Hebert." There was a pause. "We may have some news about your daughter."

Danny frowned. "You mean, whoever killed her?"

"No, sir. About Taylor herself. I don't want to raise your hopes too far, but you may not have been imagining things after all. Taylor may still be around, after a fashion."

He sat up straight, eyes opening wide behind his glasses. "What – she got powers and turned into a ghost?"

"Not … precisely." The Director's voice seemed to hint at compassion. "Powers, yes. Ghost, no. We suspect she may have moved her mind into a swarm of insects as a form of escape, and then her body died, leaving her stranded there."

Danny frowned, trying to get his head around the concept. "That … is that even possible?"

"I honestly don't know, sir. But my men encountered something at your house that may or may not bear that theory out. I'm waiting for them to get back, so I can debrief them properly."

"I … thank you for telling me this."

"Normally I would not do so," she informed him. "But in this particular circumstance, I believe you deserve the courtesy. However, you do need to keep in mind that they may be in error, or that the situation may not be stable."

"What do you mean, not stable?"

"I mean that she may not be able to maintain the link to the insects. She may die anyway."

"But she may not."

"As you say, sir, she may not. I will keep you posted."

"Thank you, Director."

"It's the least I can do. Good night, Mr Hebert."

"Good night," he replied, aware that she probably wasn't listening any more.

A meal had been delivered earlier, but he hadn't felt like eating. Now, he did. It was bland fare, but he didn't notice. All he could think of was, Taylor might be alive.

My daughter might still be alive.

It was only a faint thread of hope, but it was all he had.

<><>​

Wednesday Morning

Dana McAllister eyed the manila envelope on her desk. On it was scrawled the name HEBERT. Her brow furrowing slightly, she picked it up, opened the flap, and slid the contents out on to her desk. This turned out to be a stack of A4 paper, held together with a paperclip, with a cover sheet on top.

The cover sheet was written in a hand that she recognised; Jameson, one of the night crew. She'd shared coffee with him a few times.

Dana,

This stuff got emailed to us by the PRT after you went home. They said it's from the house of the kid who died at Winslow, Taylor Hebert. You're handling that investigation, right?

Anyway, this stuff looks interesting. Have fun kicking ass.

Rick

Click to shrink...

She eyed the cover sheet while sipping her coffee. When Rick said 'interesting', he meant that life was going to get interesting for some lowlife or other. But if this was mailed in by the PRT … what the hell were they doing at the Hebert house? She'd been meaning to send someone over to look the place over for anything related to the death, but it was something that kept on getting put on the back burner. Well, now it's on the front burner.

Flipping the cover sheet over, she looked at the next page, and the pages after. There were nine of them, looking like photocopies of someone's handwritten notes. No, not photocopies, she corrected herself after seeing the bugs scattered in the image of the last sheet, photographs.

The handwriting was consistent from one page to the next, and the notes were dated. The first date was September eight, two thousand ten. Beginning of school, last year. The following dates were consecutive, skipping only the weekends.

Having made her initial observations, she began to read the actual notes.

Six vicious emails, Sophia pushed me down the stairs when I was near the bottom, making me drop my books, tripped and shoved me no less than three times during gym, and threw my clothes at me while I was in the shower after gym class had ended, getting them wet.

Click to shrink...

She stopped reading, and stared at the photos. Is this Taylor Hebert? Did she write this?

Making sure to keep them in order, she turned them over one at a time. Spot-reading here and there told a grim story; whoever had written this was laying out a tale of sustained and horrific bullying, far and away worse than anything Dana had ever had to endure.

Pushing back on her roller chair, she got up and wandered over to where Farrel was standing by his desk with a coffee cup in hand. "This stuff landed on my desk this morning," she began. "Know anything about it?"

He stretched and yawned, and took a drink of coffee before replying. "Yeah, night crew told me about it. Said it might be helpful with your case. Why?"

"Have a look," she told him grimly, and handed the sheets over.

He put his coffee down and started reading. After a moment, he hooked his chair out with one foot, sat down, and put the sheets under his desk lamp. "Holy fuck," he muttered. "Holy crap on a stick." As she looked over his shoulder, he continued to skim through the sheets, whistling almost soundlessly through his teeth.

"Yeah, all of that," she agreed. "I want you to send a unit over to the Hebert house right the hell now, and see if the original is still on site. Get in touch with Danny Hebert, too, see if he knows anything about it. Have someone call the PRT and find out how they gained entry, and why they entered in the first place, and see if they removed these notes from the premises. If they did, I want them back, right the fuck now, with a solid chain of custody, so it'll hold up in court. And don't let those bastards stonewall you; don't stop asking questions till you get answers you like."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with alacrity, and reached for his phone.

"In the meantime," she went on, picking up the sheaf, "I'm going to be looking through these to see who I should be pulling back in for interviews."

"Might want to get that Veder kid back in to start with," he suggested, rummaging through the orderly disorder on his desk in search of (she presumed) the number for the PRT police liaison officer.

About to head back to her own desk, she paused. "Why?" she asked. "I haven't seen his name on here. Did I miss something?"

He glanced up at her and shook his head. "No, but he's the one who pointed out Madison Clements and Julia Morrow, and they're both in there. It might be an idea to get his read on this stuff."

She nodded once, noting the wisdom of his suggestion. "Yeah, I'll do just that," she agreed. "Good call there, Joe."

"Hey, it's why they pay me the big bucks," he responded, straight-faced. She snorted, and headed back to her desk.

<><>​

Khalia Veder was just putting the baby back into her crib when the phone rang; she hurried to answer it. "Veder household, Khalia speaking."

"This is Detective McAllister. You may recall that we spoke at the station yesterday, when you brought your son in to be interviewed?"

Khalia nodded, although the policewoman couldn't see her. "Yes, Detective, I remember you. What can I do for you?" She paused. "Did you want to speak with Gregory again?"

"Actually, yes, I would like that, Mrs Veder," the detective told her.

"Is – is he in trouble?" asked Khalia. "He's a good boy. He wouldn't hurt anyone."

"No, no trouble," Detective McAllister assured her. "Some new evidence has come to light, which bears out a statement he made. We would like his opinion on it."

Khalia blinked. "Oh, uh, of course," she replied. "I'll go and get him at once." She frowned. "Actually, that's a little odd."

"What is?"

"He hasn't come down for breakfast yet." She shrugged. "I'll go and move him along, the lazy slug."

"If you could call me back when you're ready to bring him in, that would be good," the policewoman told her.

Khalia smiled. "I can certainly do that, Detective. Talk to you soon."

She put the phone down and trotted up the stairs. Pausing outside her son's door, she listened. There was no snoring, which meant that he wasn't asleep. She rolled her eyes. Probably playing one of those silly computer games all night. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done that.

"Gregory!" she called out, rapping loudly on the door. "Come on, turn that computer off! I need to take you down to the police station! They need to ask you some more questions!"

She paused, waiting. There was no response. He probably has his headphones in. Also not a first, for her son.

She rapped again, trying to get his attention through sheer volume, although she had to give up with sore knuckles after a few moments.

"Gregory!" she called out once more.

No answer.

She tried the handle. The door was locked.

This was getting beyond a joke. Bustling back downstairs, she located the spare house keys. Gregory, you will be feeling the rough edge of my tongue when I get that door open, she promised silently.

The correct key fitted the lock, and she turned it; the lock clicked open. This time, the handle turned easily. The door opened.

Khalia stepped into the room, observing the still-made bed – of course, he hasn't slept all night – before she fully took in the figure slumped backward in the computer chair, head hanging back, fingers tangled in the plastic bag -

Her screams reverberated throughout the house, and woke the baby.

<><>​

Dana showed her badge to the cop at the door, and entered the house. Mrs Veder was sitting on the sofa with her baby daughter's crib beside her; she was a wreck, continually sniffling and wiping at her eyes, even while she was trying to calm the infant down.

Her husband sat beside her, looking even more shattered than his wife, if that was possible. He was blank-faced, stunned. Police officers were already trying to get statements from them, but she guessed it was hard going at the moment.

Mounting the stairs, she pulled on a pair of disposable booties and entered the kid's bedroom. It was a teenage boy's room, all right; posters covered the walls, an indiscriminate mix of capes, rock bands and female movie stars. A camera flash went off as she entered, and she blinked, bringing her hand up to shield her eyes.

"Oh, sorry." The forensics tech lowered his camera, frowning. "Did they tell you about it already, Dana?"

"Tell me about what?" she asked, hanging back so as not to get in his way. "I just got clued in by the nine-one-one operator. She said the mother mentioned my name."

"Oh, so you were talking to this kid already?"

"Yeah. He's a potential witness, Bill. Was a potential witness."

"Well, fuck," muttered the tech. "That's a kick in the teeth. Reason we were going to give you a call was this." He beckoned, and she made her way to his side.

She watched as he moved the mouse, and the computer woke up. The screen cleared, and she blinked at the pictures thus portrayed. "Wow, where'd the kid get that stuff?"

Bill looked at her. "The porn, or the pictures of Taylor Hebert?"

Dana rolled her eyes. "I know that any teenage kid can get porn off the net these days. It's the other stuff that I'm concerned about. Was he stalking her?"

"Not that I can see," Bill ventured. "Far as I can tell, these are cropped from photos taken around the school. He might have had a crush, but he wasn't following her with a camera."

Dana stared at the pictures on the screen. "So he was, uh, admiring Taylor, and had other pictures downloaded of girls who resembled her, and went too far with the auto-asphyxia?"

Bill shrugged. "Seems that way."

Dana rubbed her chin. "Something's off about this."

"Such as?"

She pointed at the images on the screen. "Skinny brunettes, right?"

Bill nodded. "Same as the Hebert girl."

Dana turned and pointed at the posters on the wall. "New Wave. Glory Girl. January Jones. Scarlett Johanssen. Christina Aguilera. Britney Spears. What do they have in common?"

The tech turned and looked, then looked back at the screen. Slowly, his eyes travelled back to the posters. "Blondes. All of them."

"Damn right. And not a one of them skinny. Now, do you think it's likely he developed that much of a fetish for Taylor that he starts doing this after she died?"

Bill's voice was thoughtful. "So this just went from possible accidental suicide to probable homicide."

Dana nodded, then frowned. "Where'd he get the bag from?"

"Huh?"

"That's a large zip-lock bag," she noted. "It's pretty thick. Could he even see the screen through it? You might want to ask the parents if there's any other bags like it in the house."

Bill nodded. "Okay, will do."

Dana turned to leave the room, only to find her way blocked. A large man, taller and wider than she was, and looking at her with not a little disfavour. "McAllister. What are you doing tramping all over my crime scene?"

"Camden." She gestured to the corpse in the chair. "That's one of my witnesses in the Hebert case. Got himself dead, and I don't think it was an accident. Bill can bring you up to speed."

"Murder?" Camden frowned. "But the door was locked from the inside."

"Or someone had a key," she pointed out. "Or, you know, powers."

He grimaced. "Powers. I hate powers. They're a bitch to prove. And then the PRT grabs the case and takes the credit."

"Shit happens," she pointed out. "Now, I gotta get going. But can I get any updates, if they apply to my case?"

Camden frowned, but she knew he wouldn't be that much of an asshole. He just liked to pretend to be one.

"Sure," he grunted. "Now get out of here before you totally wreck my crime scene."

"Going," she responded, and headed out of the room.

Greg Veder is dead, she mused, but before he died, he mentioned organised crime, as well as two names. Madison Clements and Julia Morrow.

Don Garbutt, she knew, would still be looking into the Vice angle. So that left her clear to check out some other things.

<><>​

The door to the cell opened, startling Danny. He looked up from the breakfast he was eating – just as bland as the evening meal – to see two guards standing there.

"Mr Hebert," one of them greeted him. "You're being released, by order of the Director. Come with us, please."

"Oh, uh, sure," he mumbled. Setting the tray aside, he stood up and followed them.

With one in front and one behind, he was escorted through the PRT building until he reached the Director's office. She observed him keenly. "Mr Hebert."

"Uh, Director Piggot," he responded weakly. "You're just letting me go?"

She nodded. "If you so wish."

"I … if I wish? Why would I not wish to?" His voice was puzzled.

"Because if we simply release you, you will be barred from entering your home," she replied, almost gently. Turning her computer monitor, she showed him the scene; PRT trucks parked next to the house, with barricades set up around it. There were several cameras, and the screen was split several ways to accommodate them all. One was showing a close-up of one of the windows; there were bugs crawling all over the inside of it.

"I … I don't get it," he mumbled, shaking his head.

She took a deep breath. "Sir, whether or not it is your daughter inhabiting that swarm, it has set itself up in your house, and is growing larger by the hour. We're having to block part of the street off for the safety of the public. If it gets much larger, we will have to take measures."

"And what can I do?" he asked. "I'm no expert in this sort of thing. And I'd be surprised if my power worked on bugs."

"No," she told him, "but you know your daughter. If this swarm is sapient, if it really is your daughter, then you should be able to communicate with it … with her."

He pointed at the screen. "So you're saying … that … that's Taylor?"

"I hope it's Taylor," Piggot stated flatly. "Because if it isn't, we may have a very serious problem on our hands." She looked at Danny. "Sir, you're our best hope for talking to Taylor. Talking her down. Will you help us?"

"It's likely to be dangerous, isn't it?" His voice was quiet.

She nodded. "Quite possibly, yes. We'll have capes on scene, to minimise the danger, but there will be a certain level of unavoidable risk. It hasn't actually attacked anyone -" yet " - so we think you'll be reasonably safe, even if it isn't actually Taylor." Or if it's not her any more.

Despite his internal doubts, Danny knew that there was only one answer he could give. Straightening his shoulders, and squaring what jaw he had, he nodded curtly. "I'll do it." For Taylor, I'll do it.

From the glint in Piggot's eye, he was fairly sure she'd picked up on what he hadn't said. "Thank you, Mr Hebert."

<><>​

Dana was halfway back to the precinct when her phone rang. She tapped it to hands-free. "McAllister."

"It's Farrel. The uniforms I sent over to the Hebert place hit a snag."

"What sort of a snag?"

"The PRT's there, in force. They've got the house barricaded off. No-one's getting in."

"Did they say why?"

"They stated, and I quote, 'parahuman-related biological hazard'."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

She could imagine him rolling his eyes. "Search me. But they say the order came straight from the Director. And get this. The place is crawling with bugs."

"Bugs? What the hell do bugs have to do with this?"

"No idea. Unless that's the biohazard they mentioned."

"Is it just me, or is this a giant coincidence?"

"You ask me, nothing that happens with capes in this town's a coincidence. It's all a giant conspiracy."

"Yeah, yeah. Look, tell your guys to hang around. If they get the chance, they're to get in there and get that document. But only if the place is declared clear first. I don't want them risking their lives for some papers."

"Got it. And I'll keep pushing for details. Right now, they're trying to give me the runaround, but I figure I can weasel something out of them sooner or later."

"How about Hebert himself?"

"He's not answering the house phone, and there's not a mobile listed to his name."

"Dammit!" She bounced the heel of her hand off of the steering wheel. "Okay, keep at them. The PRT's involved in this somehow, but I'm not going to let them queer my case."

"Will do." The line went dead.

Dana McAllister drove on. There were still the notes she had been given; until something broke, they were her best lead. And she intended to follow them as hard as she could.

<><>​

"So what's going on?"

"Oh, hi." Clockblocker looked up as he fitted his body armour into place. "You got called in too?"

"Yeah. No information though. Just told to get here ASAP."

"Yeah, that happens," the white-clad hero agreed. "Word is, there's a big swarm of bugs around the house belonging to this guy called Danny Hebert. We're going there, along with Aegis and Armsmaster, to escort him into the house and see if he can't calm the swarm down."

"Calm the swarm down." The words were flat.

Clockblocker shrugged. "'S'what I heard. And once that's done, we're going to be escorting some cops in so they can search for some evidence. Hebert's daughter got killed the other day, and apparently she left some notes behind about bullying. The cops want that, because apparently it names everyone who was bullying her."

"Isn't that interesting." Shadow Stalker fitted her mask into place. "Well, let's not keep them waiting."


End of Part Seven

Part Eight

 

[Chojomeka]

Ah shit...no wait no even Sophia's so dumb as to try and tamper with evidence while Armsmaster's on site....although.....

 

[Xilph]

Armsmaster and Aegis and Clockblocker and at least one PRT squad and Danny and a giant swarm of bugs, really any attempt from her has the odds seriously stacked against it. I mean she's clearly totally nuts in this story but this would be a new level of crazy even from her, particularly considering she's meant to be with four different people so it's not like she'd have a chance to sneak away. If she did she'd have Taylor unleash the bees of course but really I don't think Sophia is that nuts, she's clearly got enough intelligence to at least think about not acting when there is evidence and leaving fake evidence after all.

 

[Starfox5]

Ah, the noose tightens. Can't wait for Sophia to get what's coming to her - birdcage. Good to see police at work, and once Emily gets wind of this. Evil psycho cape killing kids should hit all of her buttons.

 

[powerofvoid]

Why do you assume she would get the birdcage?

 

[Starfox5]

Why do you assume she would get the birdcage?

Click to shrink...

Cape going on a murder spree, already on her second chance. And killing children. After proving she's a complete psycho by torturing one for more than a year. What else do you do with her?

 

[doomlord9]

Why do you assume she would get the birdcage?

Click to shrink...

Cape going on a murder spree, already on her second chance. And killing children. After proving she's a complete psycho by torturing one for more than a year. What else do you do with her?

Click to shrink...

This plus the whole thing is becoming very high profile. They can't resolve this with a quiet transfer to a Simurgh Containment Zone or sending her to juvie, she's going to be made into an example to restore the PR the PRT has lost because of this whole thing.

If she survives that long, she seems the type to say 'over my dead body' and mean it. She could accept juvie, she knows she getting out when she turns 18, the Birdcage is for life and she probably wouldn't survive for long there.

 

[powerofvoid]

Cape going on a murder spree, already on her second chance. And killing children. After proving she's a complete psycho by torturing one for more than a year. What else do you do with her?

Click to shrink...

The birdcage is supposed to be for capes who can't be handled by a normal prison, not just "you've been a horrible person"

There's actually little-to-no evidence that Sophia couldn't be handled by a normal prison.

EDIT: assuming she had an appropriate anti-power countermeasure attached.

 

[abyssmal_kismet]

The birdcage is supposed to be for capes who can't be handled by a normal prison, not just "you've been a horrible person"

There's actually little-to-no evidence that Sophia couldn't be handled by a normal prison.

EDIT: assuming she had an appropriate anti-power countermeasure attached.

Click to shrink...

Electronic handcuffs worked perfectly well in canon, so yeah. I completely agree; there's no real reason for her to go to the Birdcage. Now, if she managed to break out and was caught again, that might count for the three strike rules, but that's about it.

 

[Starfox5]

This plus the whole thing is becoming very high profile. They can't resolve this with a quiet transfer to a Simurgh Containment Zone or sending her to juvie, she's going to be made into an example to restore the PR the PRT has lost because of this whole thing.

If she survives that long, she seems the type to say 'over my dead body' and mean it. She could accept juvie, she knows she getting out when she turns 18, the Birdcage is for life and she probably wouldn't survive for long there.

Click to shrink...

She'd not get out of juvie at 18, not after two murders.

(Over here, she'd be judged mentally ill, and locked up in an institution until she's no danger to society anymore. Doesn't matter how old she is, we tend to take a dim view on "I am a predator" delusions that have turned violent already.)

 

[Can'tthinkofaname]

The revenge sequence here should be better than the one in Regent's interlude. Hopefully. I can't wait.

 

[Slayer Anderson]

So...has it been discussed what this means 'long term,' because as suck as it is for this to happen to Taylor, this may also mean interesting things for Queen Administrator.

As in, Taylor may have been uploaded into her Shard. Which could be good...or bad.

 

[doomlord9]

The birdcage is supposed to be for capes who can't be handled by a normal prison, not just "you've been a horrible person"

There's actually little-to-no evidence that Sophia couldn't be handled by a normal prison.

EDIT: assuming she had an appropriate anti-power countermeasure attached.

Click to shrink...

Electronic handcuffs worked perfectly well in canon, so yeah. I completely agree; there's no real reason for her to go to the Birdcage. Now, if she managed to break out and was caught again, that might count for the three strike rules, but that's about it.

Click to shrink...

If this were a normal case yes, that would be the answer but it's not. This has become too high-profile and will be murder on the PRT's image.

The same as Canary was railroaded into the Birdcage to calm down the public, Sophia will too while the PRT's lawyers twist her every action painting her into a sick criminal mastermind who wormed her way into the Wards to use them as a disguise. Investigation into how she managed this is under way and countermeasures are being designed but this...this monstrous being who is only an invitation shy of being part of the Slaughterhouse Nine shall be put away in the most secure place in the world before she can harm anyone else.

Truth and law are going to be stomped to all hell in the process, Sophia is going away and Emma's going to be thrown under the bus so that the public doesn't lose faith in the PRT.

 

[pepperjack]

Don Garbutt, she knew, would still be looking into the Vice angle.

Click to shrink...

They've got a guy named Don in charge of looking into the mafia connections?

 

[Ack]

They've got a guy named Don in charge of looking into the mafia connections?

Click to shrink...

Amusingly, yes.

I didn't even see that one coming.

 

[DieKatzchen]

Why did I not have this amazing story watched? Easily enough solved.

 

[Ack]

Aftermath

Part Eight


Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Outside the Hebert Residence

"Okay, raise your arms, please, sir."

Obediently, Danny lifted his arms. The officers attending him were in the process of placing a protective vest on him when her voiced a question. "Just out of curiosity, what will this actually do for me?"

The officers stopped and looked at him.

"It's a protective vest," explained the one – his name tag read ROGERS – in a patient tone. "It'll stop a knife, and maybe a bullet - "

" … so why am I putting one on, here?" asked Danny, indicating the swarm. It was by now not only covering his house in its entirety, but filling the yard and spilling over on to the street and two other yards in the process. The combined humming and buzzing was quite audible where they were standing, fifty yards away.

"Regulations, sir," the other one put in, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Now if you'll just -"

"No," Danny snapped, and they both stopped as though frozen in place. Immediately, he became aware of three different guns pointed at him. He raised his hands. "Shit, sorry. Didn't mean to do that. But we're going to be facing bugs. What the hell use is a bullet-proof vest going to be?"

"Stand down," Armsmaster ordered, and the guns were lowered. He stepped up alongside Danny. "Your point is valid. You won't be facing bullets or knives in there; we can still give you the protective clothing if you wish."

Danny shook his head. "No. I'll go in as I am. Either Taylor knows me, and listens to me, or … she doesn't."

<><>​

Armsmaster didn't know what to do in this situation. The man was obviously resigned to his fate. If whatever was controlling those bugs, causing them to swarm, was indeed his daughter, then he was in no danger. If it was not her, or had been her but was no longer sapient or even sentient, then he stood a very good chance of being stung or suffocated to death.

If she's dead, he doesn't want to live.

Awkwardly, he put his armoured gauntlet on Hebert's shoulder and squeezed slightly. "I understand, sir." He didn't, not really, but it was something that someone in a movie might say, so he said it.

Hebert didn't answer; to break the silence, Armsmaster turned toward the other Protectorate capes on scene. "There'll be four of us going in to support you, as well as the two police officers. I've adjusted my armour so that nothing can get to me without passing through a very fine filter. Aegis, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker will be accompanying us; Clockblocker's costume is full-body, Shadow Stalker can go to shadow form in an instant, and Aegis is in little danger from a swarm of bugs."

Hebert looked at Aegis a little curiously. Good, he's paying attention. "I … I can see how the others are protected, but how do you … ?"

Aegis smiled. "My powers are all about adaptation and adjustment, sir. Also, I can fly. If I get stung, my body adapts to the venom almost at once. If they get in my eyes, I can see by light hitting my skin, or echo-location."

"And if they get in your mouth?" asked Hebert.

"Then I'll breathe through my ears," Aegis informed him. Armsmaster was not surprised; he had heard of the boy pulling that stunt once before. Clockblocker seemed to think it was funny; at least, he sniggered when it was mentioned. Armsmaster wasn't sure why.

Hebert drew himself up to his not inconsiderable height. "All the same, I want to thank you. All of you. You really don't have to go in there with me, I know. So I appreciate it."

Aegis nodded and held out his hand. "You're welcome, sir. And may I say, you're a braver man than me. I know I wouldn't want to walk in there without powers or protective clothing."

Hebert shook it. "I can't not do it," he stated simply.

While Hebert spoke to Aegis, Armsmaster turned to the other two Wards. "Clockblocker, Daniel Hebert is your responsibility," he warned the boy seriously. "If it's looking like the swarm's not listening to him, then be ready to freeze him. If that happens, we'll bring in containment foam, cover him, then carry him out of the swarm that way."

"And me?" asked Shadow Stalker.

"You can't protect anyone, but you can scout," Armsmaster told her. "Look around the house, see if there's a nexus for the swarm, where they're particularly concentrated. If we have to destroy the swarm, any information you gather could be particularly valuable. But don't risk yourself; if they look like attacking you, go to shadow."

She nodded. "So, we got a layout of the house? So I know where to look?"

He nodded and pointed at a folding table with several sheets of paper on it. "Not enough time to jump through all the hoops to get the official blueprints out of storage, but Hebert's a fairly good freehand artist. Basement, first floor, second floor."

"Got it," she told him, and wandered over to examine the drawings. Armsmaster saw one finger lower itself to the drawings, tap on the paper. She was obviously thinking, deciding where to check out first. He decided not to bother her, instead re-checking his halberd.

Along with his armour, he had adjusted it for this mission; the EMP would now blast out a localised electrical discharge, frying any bug within six feet of him. It would feel strange to a person, but the police – who would be wearing protective clothing – would be unharmed. One shot wouldn't drain the power supply, but nor was it unlimited. He would accompany one officer, while Aegis stayed with the other; in the case of emergency, the Ward was to fly them both out of the building.

Of course, if Hebert managed to get the swarm to calm down and disperse, all of this planning would be immaterial. But he preferred to make plans as if every single one would be carried out in full. Better to have a plan and not need it, than to need a plan and not have it.

Collapsing the halberd once more, he stowed it on his back. All he needed now was the green light to go in.

<><>​

Winslow High School

"Please take a seat."

Emma Barnes pulled out the chair and sat down; she eyed the policewoman warily. "Am I going to need a lawyer here?"

"Not unless you believe that you're being accused of a crime," Dana McAllister replied easily. "Right now, this is just a follow-up interview, to go over some things we may have missed before."

Her tone was matter-of-fact, but Emma felt uncomfortable, as if there were a trap looming that she could not see. She shifted in her seat, and glanced at the school counsellor. The grey-haired lady nodded encouragingly. "I'm sure it's nothing, dear."

"Maybe I should call my dad," Emma ventured.

Detective McAllister shrugged slightly. "Be my guest. But in the time it takes for him to get here, I'll be interviewing someone else. So you'll be waiting."

She seemed nonchalant about it; almost too nonchalant. I think she's trying to bluff me into not calling him. "I think I will call him," Emma decided. She stood up from the chair and moved to the door of the meeting room. "Who do you want me to send in?"

McAllister consulted her notes. "Sophia Hess, please."

Emma froze for a moment. Sophia's off being a Ward. "Oh, uh, I don't think she came in today," she temporised. "She might be sick." Call someone else in.

McAllister frowned. "I didn't get notified of that by the principal's office." She looked up at Emma. "Go, call your father. I'll still be here when he arrives."

The dismissal was obvious; Emma exited the room and closed the door. Pulling out her phone, she dialled; the number she called was not her father's.

<><>​

Outside the Hebert Residence

Shadow Stalker looked down as her personal phone trilled. She hooked it out of the pouch, and had just enough time to see that it was from Emma before a shadow fell over her. Swiftly cancelling the call, she glanced up to see Armsmaster.

"That wasn't a PRT phone," he observed.

Well, no shit, Halbeard. "No, I carry a private phone."

His lips tightened behind the fine-weave mesh designed to stop bugs getting into his helmet. "Now is not the time to be taking private calls, Shadow Stalker. Turn it off or turn it over."

"But -"

"We're about to enter a highly dangerous environment where any distraction could prove fatal," he snapped. "The phone gets turned off, or you give it to me. Now."

Reluctantly, she nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll turn it off." She waited, but he didn't move; she pressed the button to turn the phone all the way off. He continued to watch as the phone shut down, and as she stowed it back into the pouch.

Then he leaned close. "If that had gone off inside the house, Mr Hebert could be dead right now. Do you want that on your head?"

She waited a few seconds, until she realised that the question was not rhetorical. "Uh, no, I don't."

He nodded. "Don't turn that phone on again until we're done here. That's a direct order."

Fuck. Violating a direct order wouldn't breach her probation, but it wouldn't do her any favours, either. Now I'm gonna have to wait to find out what Emma wants. "Sir," she replied.

"Good." He moved off, but she didn't dare pull the phone out again. For someone as blind to social cues as Armsmaster was, he was damn good at noticing things like that.

Come on, let's get this over with.

<><>​

Winslow High School

"Sophia? No, she's not sick. She went to school the same as usual, this morning."

"Thank you, Mrs Hess," Dana replied. "Do you know of any place that she might be, that I could contact her at?"

"I'm not sure. She has a friend, Emma someone?"

Despite the fact that the other woman could not see her, Dana shook her head. "I just spoke to Emma here, at school. If Sophia's away, Emma's not with her."

"Hmm." Sophia's mother sounded concerned. "She may be seeing her social worker. She does that some days."

"Social worker? Okay. Got a number?" That was interesting; the notes from the Hess interview didn't mention a social worker.

"There's one around here somewhere … ahh, here it is." She read it out. Dana scribbled it down. "I hope that helps."

"I'm sure it will. Thank you very much for your time, Mrs Hess."

"Not at all." In the background, Dana could hear a crying infant. "I'm sorry; I have to go."

"Have a good day." Dana put the phone down, then picked it up again, and dialled the number that she had been given. While it was ringing, she idly clicked through some files on her laptop. A folder caught her eye; Winslow Photos.

That was the set of pictures she had gotten, and gone through fruitlessly to find if any of Taylor's alleged friends were with her in them. She clicked it open again, and started looking through them once more, an unformed suspicion driving her.

One photo almost leaped off the screen at her; a photo of Emma Barnes and Madison Clements congratulating Sophia Hess on getting the one hundred yard prize at a school track meet. Emma. Madison. Sophia. All three names were very prominent in Taylor Hebert's bullying diary.

As the phone continued to ring, she flicked through more photos, looking for the same three faces. Again and again, she found them together. More than could be attributed to simple coincidence. Those three are friends. Just not with Taylor Hebert.

"Hello, Sara Foster speaking." The voice on the other end of the phone was female, youngish, somewhat frazzled.

"Hello. This is Detective Dana McAllister of the BBPD. Am I speaking to Sophia Hess' social worker?"

"I … yes, I'm her social worker. What's this about?" Dana thought she detected suspicion and wariness in the other woman's tone.

"I need to get in touch with her. You may have heard about the murder at her school?"

"Yes. It was a terrible thing. You don't think that Sophia's got anything do do with that, do you?"

"I don't know anything yet, Sara." Dana took a breath. "But some evidence has come up that's potentially implicated her, and I'd like to re-interview her on the matter -"

"You're wasting your time, Detective." The tone was flat. "Sophia had nothing to do with it."

Dana blinked. "I … you sound very certain. What makes you so sure?"

"Take it from me. Sophia is the very last person in the world to do something like this."

"Sara, listen to me. I have a stack of notes here that directly accuses Sophia and her friends of orchestrating a vicious and ongoing bullying campaign against Taylor Hebert, since at least September of last year. If they would do this, then -"

"It's faked."

Dana was taken aback. "You haven't even seen this. How can you know such a thing?"

"Because Sophia wouldn't do it. Trust me, I know."

"For God's sake, how do you know it?" demanded Dana McAllister.

There was a long silence. "I'm not at liberty to discuss that."

Dana frowned. "You're acting like she's a secret agent or something."

"Detective, if you pursue this, you will be putting Sophia's life in danger. More to the point, you will be breaking the law."

Dana took a deep breath. "Sara, I am a police officer. The law has already been broken. A girl is already dead. Sophia Hess is a suspect. You have yet to give me anything concrete to say that she isn't."

In the back of her mind, she was turning over what the 'social worker' had already told her. Dollars to doughnuts, she's no damn social worker. She's more than that. But she's responsible for Sophia in some way, and now she's trying to cover her ass as hard as possible.

What could Sophia be mixed up in that warrants this sort of protection from above?

Sara's voice interrupted her train of thought. "This conversation is over." The phone went dead.

Dana stared at it. "What the hell?"

People didn't hang up on police officers. It just wasn't done. Or rather, doing it was a dead-certain way of drawing more attention down on themselves. So why would Sara, whoever she really was, have risked such a thing? And what's Sophia mixed up in?

Carefully, methodically, she began to note down the conversation with the 'social worker', in as much detail as she could recall. This would have to be followed up on; once she got back to the station, she would have that number traced and hopefully located.

Before she was finished, her phone rang again. For a moment, she thought it might be Sara, ringing back with more obscure admonitions. But it was Lieutenant Fahey, from the precinct. There must be a break in the case.

Thumbing the 'answer' button, she held the phone to her ear. "McAllister."

"Detective. I have a message for you."

"Shoot."

"You are to cease investigating … what was the name … Sophia Hess … immediately. Whatever the case is, she's not a part of it."

Dana's jaw dropped. "What? Sir, all my evidence suggests otherwise!"

"Nevertheless, the captain just passed the word on. Hands off Sophia Hess."

"But why?"

"Not my department, Detective. Captain's orders." He paused. "A written copy of that order has been emailed to your phone."

Dana heard the ping in her ear that told her the email had arrived. "Sir, just do me one favour?"

His voice was cautious. "That depends."

"Could you ask the captain where this order originated? I'd like to know who's shutting us down like this. Because I just got off the phone with a so-called social worker who gave me the same spiel without providing a single goddamn reason why I should believe her."

He paused. "I can try. Can't promise anything. But if I get a verifiable answer, you'll drop Sophia Hess as a suspect. That's an order."

"Understood, sir. And thanks."

"Don't thank me yet, McAllister." The phone went dead.

Dana laid it down on the desk and started going through the notes. She used a yellow highlighter to colour in Sophia's incidents, a pink one for Emma, and a green one for Madison. She was halfway through the second page when the phone rang once more. It was Fahey again. She snatched it up.

"Lieutenant?"

"Detective. I just spoke to the captain. He said it was the Deputy Director of the PRT. Sophia Hess is, and I quote, a person of interest in an ongoing investigation. Now can you drop it?"

"But why would the PRT be investigating a high school student? It doesn't make sense."

"I did you your favour. You have your orders."

"Sir." She ended the call, and sat there for a long moment, thinking hard. Then she turned to the laptop and opened a browser page. Another long moment passed, then she typed in Brockton Bay Wards and clicked the 'Image' tab.

The laptop processed her input, then flicked up a list of responses. She clicked on the second one, a recent publicity picture of the Wards ENE, as they were officially known. There was the leader, Aegis. Where's Triumph? Oh, wait, he went on to the Protectorate. The irreverent Clockblocker, with clock-faces crawling over his costume. Gallant, in his metallic armour with the highlights. Kid Win, twirling a raygun of some sort on one finger. Vista, shorter than everyone, younger, for all that she'd been in the Wards longer than everyone except Aegis. And the last one, the most recent recruit. Dark clad, edgy, carrying twin crossbows. Her very mask a scowl of disapproval. Dark skin showing here and there. Long black hair, spilling out from under the hood.

Shadow Stalker.

She pulled up the photo of Sophia accepting the prize, looked back at the image of Shadow Stalker. They could definitely be the same person.

They are the same person.

It was not so much a realisation as a sudden flash of intuition, a leap in the dark. But she knew, with a cold certainty, that it was true. It had to be. It was the only thing that fit all the facts.

Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker. I'm sure of it.

Which doesn't prove that she did it. But the things Taylor wrote down; she's prone to be more physical than the others. Shoving Taylor into the locker, if any of those three did it, it would be her.

And she's being protected by the PRT. They probably don't know she did it – at least I hope they don't know – but they're covering up for her so that her cape identity doesn't come out into the open.

So if Sophia Hess has dropped off the face of the earth … where's Shadow Stalker right now?

She was pretty sure that if she called up the PRT again, she would not get a straight answer. The 'social worker' using the name Sara Foster had probably called the Deputy Director and put a flea in his ear, thus precipitating the call to the captain. Her superior outranks my superior.

I'm not finished with this yet. I just have to figure out how to attack it.

While she was considering that, she picked up her phone and dialled a number from memory.

<><>​

Hebert Residence

Taylor Hebert had discovered an interesting fact. The more bugs she gathered to herself, the more clearly she could think. And so, right at that moment, she was pulling as many bugs into the house and surrounding area as she could possibly manage. She couldn't feel them as individual entities; they were part of the Swarm, each of them contributing a tiny bit of itself to house her consciousness.

I'm not losing myself, she decided. I'm all here. I can remember my childhood, and what Dad and I had for Christmas dinner.

She had also detected her father; he was down the block just a little way; however, there were people with him, people in uniforms. Her senses were still fairly basic, so she couldn't determine much past 'uniforms', but they were official in some way.

Are they the police? Has Dad gotten into trouble somehow because of me?

The men who came here last night, did he send them?

She began to wonder if she had been a little precipitate in chasing them away. But on the upside, she had managed to finish her note to her father. He'll know it's me. He'll know I'm alive.

<><>​

Brockton Bay Central Precinct

"Homicide, Don Garbutt speaking."

"Don, this is Dana."

Don leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on an open desk drawer. "Detective. What can I do for you?"

"Actually, I was wondering how you were going with Organised Crime and Daniel Hebert."

Don snorted. "That's done with. I asked them about Hebert and the Dock Workers, and they assured me that they weren't running any operations there, because the man's as pure as the driven snow."

"You're certain of this."

"Absolutely. Some of the Dock Workers have been known to take jobs with villains, but there's not even a whiff of kickbacks to make sure this happens. About the only tie to criminal activity is his wife; she was a follower of Lustrum in college. And that was maybe twenty years ago, and his wife died two years ago."

"So, nothing."

"Zip, zero and nada."

She paused. "Okay, what's the progress of getting those notes from the Hebert house?"

"Currently? PRT's setting up some sort of operation to go in. They've got Hebert, plus our men, and they're sending them into the place with protective gear on. Also, some capes from the Protectorate and Wards are going along to protect them."

"Why Hebert?"

"Hell if I know. Or even where he's been over the last twelve hours."

There was a long pause from her end. "Don, what capes are on site there?"

Garbutt frowned and glanced at his notes. "Uh, Armsmaster, Aegis, Clockblocker and Shadow Stalker, looks like."

"Christ, so that's where she is."

"What?" He brought his boots to the floor with a thump. "Why are you so interested in Shadow Stalker all of a sudden?"

"I can't tell you, Don. Not right now. In fact, we never had this conversation."

Garbutt frowned. McAllister was a pain in the ass sometimes, but mostly she was a straight shooter. This sort of double-talk was not what she usually did. "What's going on?"

"Not something I can talk about. But do me a favour?"

"Uh, I guess. If you're allowed to tell me what it is."

He could almost hear her rolling her eyes. "Smartass. Get hold of the email that the PRT sent us with those sheets, and forward it to the Director of the PRT, with a covering note that the 'Sophia' mentioned is Sophia Hess, and that she's a suspect in a murder case. See what shakes out."

"I … okay, sure, I can do that. But why? It's not like the PRT investigates homicide cases."

"Just do it, okay, Don? Thanks, I've got to go." Her voice was jerky, like she was running.

"Wait -"

But it was too late; she had ended the call. With a sigh, he turned to his computer, and started running down the email address for the Director of the PRT. Not sure what McAllister thinks she'll get out of this, but hey, she wants me to do it.

<><>​

Outside the Hebert Residence

Armsmaster raised his voice. "All right, everyone! We have the green light to proceed. There are troops on all sides of the house with insecticide sprayers; if you find yourself being swarmed, run toward them. We all have been issued with individual cans; only use them if you feel that you are personally under threat. We're going to try to do this the easy way first, to give Mr Hebert the chance to talk to the swarm. Only if that fails do we try the other way. Does anyone not understand this?"

No-one raised an objection, although everyone except Hebert himself was clutching at least one canister of the concentrated insecticide that had been supplied for this mission. Armsmaster nodded in satisfaction; turning to Danny, he gestured toward the house. "Okay, sir," he added quietly. "Let's go talk to your daughter."

<><>​

Winslow High School

With her briefcase in one hand and laptop case in the other, Dana McAllister took the steps outside of Winslow two at a time. Once she finished the call with Don and was able to put the phone in her pocket, she was able to swap the laptop to her other hand and run faster, but it was still too slow for her.

Reaching her car, she fought to catch her breath while she dug her keys out of her pocket. The central locking pip-pipped open, and she climbed into the vehicle, tossing the cases on to the passenger seat. She stabbed the key into the ignition; the engine started on the first try. Seconds later, she was peeling out of the parking lot.

Even as she drove, she was connecting the dots at an alarming rate. Pieces of the puzzle which she had thought to be totally unconnected were fitting together in new and unexpected ways.

Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker. She's been bullying Taylor Hebert for at least four months, maybe more, with the help of Emma Barnes and Madison Clements.

It occurred to her that murder had not been Hess' intention, but no matter the intent, Taylor Hebert was still dead. We'll let the courts work that one out.

Taylor dies. No witnesses willing to talk, so Hess thinks she's free and clear. Until the Veder boy approaches Danny Hebert. Someone saw them talking, maybe Hess herself. She could have gone to him that night, as Shadow Stalker, found out what he said. Fed him the line about organised crime. He said it was a cape who told him that.

It made sense. She changed lanes, whipped around a slower car, and accelerated again.

Someone put a plastic bag over Veder's head and suffocated him. No signs of struggle, so it must have been someone he trusted, someone who could leave him in a locked room. Shadow Stalker would fit that profile. He gave us the information she wanted him to give, then she killed him in a way that should have been passed off as a stupid accident. If it wasn't for the posters …

She paused to think about Shadow Stalker. The girl was a bully; a violent one at that. She had joined the Wards in October; she had been a vigilante for a year and a bit before that. Wasn't there some report regarding her, about excessive force? I'd have to check that.

It was a long-standing trope that putting on a mask allowed people to express themselves in ways they normally repressed; if Hess was a bully normally, what was she like in costume?

We need to see if Hess has access to zip-lock bags like that. Evidence bags, right. Okay. So, she goes to Winslow. The 'social worker' was her contact with the PRT. Some sort of liaison?

So now we're sending people into the Hebert house, where Taylor left her notes. Shadow Stalker is going in as well, along with Taylor's father. If he reads the notes, and she does too, she'll realise they implicate her, and that he's seen them. Which means that he's in danger from Shadow Stalker, unless I can get there in time.

She considered calling ahead. But even if I had someone's number, what do I say? That Shadow Stalker might try to murder Danny Hebert, just like she did his daughter? How do I even do that, without outing her secret identity? I know PRT personnel have the area closed off, but I don't have a contact number. I'm better off talking to someone in person.

Her hands clenched on the steering wheel. The speedometer was showing numbers somewhat in excess of the limit. I just hope I'm in time.


End of Part Eight

Part Nine