Earning Her Stripes (Worm AU fanfic)

[Therandomestpersons]

Calvert getting his comeuppance never does get old. The empire getting dumpstered is also always nice to see.

 

[Sto Odin]

A remarkable feat of deduction, but seeing the line of thought starting in her head makes it believable.

Between this, All Alone, and Are You Afraid of the Dark a couple months back you're closing out the year with a lot of bad days for Coil and the E88. But it's not getting old yet.

(Huh, and for the E88 alone I should add One More Trigger and TH Medhall Intern to that list.)

 

[Ack]

Earning Her Stripes

Part Thirty-One: Sealing the Deal

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



Recap: Monochrome

As the car approached the garage of the two-storey house, I crouched and then leaped onto the sloping roof. Tiny claws protruding from the soles of my feet gave me all the traction I needed, and I went up to the roof-ridge and down the other side like a startled cat. Hanging from the gutter by my feet (I loved my powers) I peered in through the window to see what was going on. To my satisfaction, Kaiser was there, as were the other two remaining members of the Empire Eighty-Eight.

Excellent. Clean sweep time. Getting my phone out, I waited for the interior door to open and Alabaster to appear before I sent the text confirming the location. It wouldn't do for the villains to simply pack up and leave now that Whitey McWhiterson had shown up, after all.

Relaxing my feet, I dropped down into the back yard and set my protective cover to 'mottled gray' to blend in with the shadows. When they got to the house, Emma and Madison would have the front door covered. If anyone came out the back door, they were mine.

My preparation was rewarded when the back door suddenly opened and closed. It was Alabaster, and he was moving fast. I went totally immobile until he blurred toward the corner of the house, then went after him.

He was fast, but when I wanted my power to go faster, it could. What felt like the next ten seconds or so went by in flickering moments, which blended together into a single stream of consciousness. As far as I could tell, I caught up to him, swung him around, and punched him out. Each time his body reset, I punched him again.

The weird thing was, I felt like I was moving at normal speed; while I knew damn well he was moving at super-speed, my reactions to whatever he tried actually worked, in between the flickers in my vision. When my protective field closed over, I guessed, time worked differently on the inside, giving me time to react and think about what I was doing.

However it worked, I was happy with the results. Though I was less happy with the way he just kept resetting like he did, so I jammed him feet-first into the dirt, all the way up to the top of his head, then put a bucket over him. I was pretty sure that would hold him until we were done with the others. As Madison cut her thrusters overhead, I opened the back door and stepped inside.

<><>​

Recap: Firebird

Emma crouched on the battlesuit's shoulder, waiting for her cue. Lower and lower they dropped, aiming for the front yard of the house that Taylor had given them the address for. The text had indicated that Kaiser, Krieg and Othala were inside the house, while Alabaster was just joining them.

"Ready?" asked Madison over the radio link.

Emma didn't answer verbally, but she double-clicked the radio button for an affirmative.

"Copy that. One of them's near a window. You can go in through the top floor."

Again, Emma double-clicked.

"Three, two, one, go!"

As she ran through the countdown, Madison applied more deceleration; Emma launched off the suit's shoulder and hit the roof running. A moment later, the THUMP of the suit touching down shook the entire house. There was a window in front of Emma and she dived through it, using her discs to shelter herself from the worst of the shards. Landing and rolling, she came to her feet in someone's bedroom.

Another window shattered downstairs. A moment later, someone came running up the stairs. From the sound of the footsteps, it wasn't either of the men, which left Othala.

Emma came out of the bedroom just as the female supervillain got to the top of the steps. Othala spotted her far too late; holding out her hands in useless supplication, she didn't even try to defend against the heel to the solar plexus that folded her over, or the jab to the chin that dropped her to the floor.

It was readily apparent, Emma mused as she hefted Othala onto her shoulder, that Victor had never bothered to train his partner in even the rudiments of self-defence. Not that it would've changed anything, but at the very least it would've felt less like smacking around a defenceless kitten.

<><>​

Deputy Director Renick

PRT ENE

Emily paused outside Paul's office and yawned capaciously. "Okay, that's it for me," she decided. "I'll let you handle the rest of the night yourself. Try not to get into too much trouble."

"Copy that." He gave her a nod of appreciation. "Thanks again for coming in. I honestly don't think I would've gotten to the bottom of all that as fast as you did, or at all."

"You would've gotten there in the end." He suspected she was just being kind, but that was the sort of working relationship they had. "Doesn't matter, though. You called me in, and we figured it out. Calvert's under comms lockdown, and we use anti-Thinker precautions on him from now on."

"He came so close to getting away with it …" He grimaced. "Thanks again. See you in the morning. Take an extra hour or two if you need to. I can handle it."

She snorted. "I might just take you up on that." Turning, she headed down the corridor toward the elevators.

Paul went back into his office and closed the door. Settling himself into his chair, he heaved a sigh, more of relief than anything else, at the way matters had turned out. Not only had the Calvert leak been nipped in the bud—or crushed under a concrete slab, to coin a totally original phrase—but they also had Rune and Victor in custody, to go along with the other Empire and ABB capes.

That's going to draw the Empire all the way down, he decided. Kaiser, Krieg, Othala, and Alabaster. No real heavy hitters like Purity was, or even Menja and Fenja. If the ABB hadn't already jumped the gun, Lung would be strongly thinking about it as soon as he found out about this debacle.

His desk phone rang, and he picked it up. The caller ID noted that it was coming from Operations. "Go for Renick."

"Sir, this is Sergeant Michaels. We just got a call from Firebird, about the Empire. They got them, sir."

Paul blinked, then frowned. "When you say 'they' got 'them' …"

"The Real Thing, sir. They just took down the last four Empire capes." There was real satisfaction in the sergeant's voice. "Firebird has requested a PRT pickup."

"Well, now." Paul smiled. "That is good news. I presume a van has already been dispatched?"

"Four vans, sir. One for each of them. We'll let you know when they get back."

"That would be appreciated." Paul put the phone down and leaned back in his chair. It seemed the Real Thing were as good as their word; they'd told Emily they were going to take down the Empire, and that was exactly what they'd done.

Emily's going to be annoyed that she missed out on this moment. But hey, why should she get to have all the fun?

<><>​

Lt Lassiter Reeves, PRT

"Pull over just up there." Lassiter pointed out through the windshield of the van at where the eight-foot-tall suit of power armour was standing in the roadway. Arrayed on the footpath were the four supervillains they'd been sent to take into custody; each was bound hand and foot as well as blindfolded.

The precautions were well-founded, Lassiter decided as the van rolled to a halt. The Real Thing had evidently done their homework when it came to the Empire villains. He appreciated working with capes like that, whether in the Protectorate or otherwise.

The other three vans pulled up in turn behind his vehicle. One per villain might have seemed like overkill, but he knew quite well that capes of this calibre were best separated in this way during transit, so they couldn't collude or assist each other in escaping. It helped that they had no powered allies on the outside, but he couldn't count on that remaining the case forever.

"Check them over and get them loaded up," he ordered. "Appropriate restraints. All due precautions."

"Sir," his sergeant responded, then went off to relay his orders to the troopers.

He knew the situation was well in hand—his people knew their job—so he turned his attention to the heroes responsible for this little coup. They turned to look at him as he approached, and Firebird gave him a polite nod. "Good evening, Lieutenant."

"It's definitely a good evening," he agreed. "Nobody hurt?"

"Krieg's got a broken arm and leg from when I pulled him through the window," Blockade offered. "But he should live."

Lassiter's eyebrows rose and he turned his head to study the front of the house more closely. Now that it had been pointed out to him, he could see the curtain wafting out through the shattered front window. "Whose house is that, anyway?"

Monochrome's shrug was a masterpiece of indifference. "I have no idea, but whoever does own it had no problem with four prominent members of the Empire Eighty-Eight holding a meeting in their living room. Not to tell you how to do your job, but I'd suggest you get someone to ask the owners some stringent questions about their affiliations."

"That sounds like a good starting point, yes," agreed Lassiter. He suspected that there wouldn't be much opposition to getting a search warrant for the property, given that supervillains had been captured on site. "You guys took down Victor and Rune earlier tonight, correct?"

"They did, I didn't." Monochrome leaned nonchalantly against Blockade, crossing one ankle over the other. "I was following Alabaster … well, to here, actually."

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about that," Blockade said. "When I got Rune, she totalled someone's house with the chunk of concrete she'd been flying around on. Has the homeowner been contacted? What's going to happen with that?"

"Ah." Lassiter knew some of what was going on there, but not all the details. "That's something I haven't been read in on. You're going to have to speak to the Director about that one."

"About a busted house?" Firebird leaned forward, curiosity strong in her tone. "What's so top-secret about that?"

Lassiter shook his head. "Like I said, that's above my pay grade."

"Hm." Firebird nodded slowly. "Okay, thanks. We might just do that."

"So, did you need us for anything else?" asked Monochrome.

"No, no, you're good to go." Lassiter knew he was going to be busy for a little while longer. Making sure the villains were properly secured was something he needed to do in person, and then some troopers would have to be detailed to guard the house until the search warrant came through.

A PRT officer's work was never done, but sometimes it was made a whole lot easier by the heroes.

<><>​

The Next Morning

Director Emily Piggot, PRT

"I know, I know, I could've taken more time getting in." Emily paused and gave Renick a suspicious glance. The man could do deadpan in ways that classic English butlers only wished they could pull off. Right now, she had the suspicion he was laughing his head off without so much as cracking a smile. She sighed and gave up the incipient staring contest, then continued on down the corridor. "But when I read the précis of last night's events, I decided that rest was for the weak. How quickly can we get Anders into an interrogation room?"

"He's already in Interrogation One, ma'am. I had him put there as soon as you notified us that you were on the way in."

Renick, Emily decided, took after those English butlers far too closely for comfort. But there were other topics she wanted to discuss. "So, how exactly did he manage to slip through the cracks when we unmasked Purity as his wife?" She shook her head in disbelief. "His wife, goddamn it!" Mentally, she made a bet with herself that he'd been just as curious when he found out.

"I checked up on that, ma'am. He had a whole list of impeccable alibis for the times of Kaiser's most public crimes at the time. Lunching at the Augustus Country Club with local luminaries such as Commissioner Norton, Mayor Christner, and even Dawson Stansfield."

The latter of whom just happened to be the father of Gallant, she knew. While Anders may have tempted the others with campaign contributions, Stansfield wasn't strongly into politics (any more than any other local mover and shaker, she amended) and his personal worth was comparable to that of Anders, so bribes were not on the table. "Okay, so how did he get to Stansfield?"

"I don't think he did, ma'am." Renick frowned. "I think everyone saw Max Anders at those lunches. But what nobody thought to check at the time was … did anyone see Victor at those widely publicised heists?"

Emily blinked. "That's … actually a very good point," she conceded. "Everyone knows Max Anders, so nobody thinks twice when he shows up late. He's relatively young to be so rich, which means people automatically give him the benefit of the doubt if he seems a little off in a public situation. And Victor is of course a world-class actor." She gave him a side-glance. "So, did anyone see Victor at those heists?"

He smiled slightly, proving that he was indeed on top of the situation. "I had some people run the reports down. While a few of the eyewitnesses claimed to have seen him, none of the footage or photos show him on site during the robberies when 'Max Anders' was at the Augustus."

"I'd be interested in seeing the bank accounts of these so-called eyewitnesses," Emily mused. She was fully aware that eyewitness accounts were possibly the least reliable type of evidence available. People's memories were easily skewed by assumptions, prejudice, and literally hearing someone say something to the contrary of what they'd just seen with their own eyes. And that didn't even begin to cover people being paid to say they'd seen something, or someone.

"We can call them back and interview them again," Renick suggested, not overly seriously. "If they're still insistent on that story, we'll know they've been paid to tell it that way." It was a minor paradox that people who were trying to be accurate eyewitnesses would often change their stories when new details were suggested, while those who were lying would stick to their version through thick and thin.

Emily sighed. "Not much point now. It's done, and Kaiser's actually in custody. In any case, the statute of limitations has probably run out." She grimaced. "I'm more pissed at myself than them, anyway. That happened on my watch. I signed off on it without even digging deeper or checking into Victor's whereabouts. They showed me what I wanted to see, and I took it at face value."

"Don't beat yourself up too badly," he said. "That bill of goods was masterfully presented, and we all signed off on it. And at the end of the day, like you said, Kaiser is actually in custody. We have him, and we know exactly who he is. The Empire Eighty-Eight just lost their primary revenue stream, which means Gesellschaft just lost a good chunk of the reason they've got their tentacles into the region. The bad guys may have been dancing around us up until now, but this is a huge win."

"Thanks to the Real Thing," Emily reminded him. "If they'd asked me permission to go after Kaiser, I would've told them not to. I still haven't made it untenable for villains to come back into the city."

Renick tilted his head. "So, are you in favour of this or not? I'm getting mixed messages right now."

"When I figure it out, I'll let you know." Emily opened the door to Interrogation One and stepped inside.

<><>​

Grue

Lisa could be irritating, but usually she kept it quiet. This morning, however, her whoops of laughter brought Brian out into the living room far earlier than he really wanted to. He found her positively cackling on the sofa, in a way that reminded him all too readily of Aisha.

"Okay," he grumbled, "what the hell is going on, and what's got you so happy?"

Lisa leaned back on the sofa in her fluffy pink dressing gown and propped her equally fluffy (and equally pink) slippers on the coffee table. She grinned up at him, then turned her laptop screen so he could see the picture on it. "A lot of assholes got what was coming to them, last night. And we didn't, mainly because I saw shit on the horizon that nobody else did." The amount of smug radiating off her should've set off the smoke detectors.

Brian frowned at the image; it looked like a car-sized chunk of concrete had partially demolished a suburban cookie-cutter house, ending up in the backyard. An electricity pole in the foreground had been partially snapped off, and was sagging against the wires holding it up. "Okay, that's kind of impressive, but what's the big deal?"

Lisa rolled her eyes. "The big deal is this. That was Rune's doing. Last night, as far as I can figure out, she was part of a concerted Empire effort to track down the Real Thing and make them pay for the Hookwolf-Menja-Fenja-Crusader capture. This did not go as planned."

After considering her words for a moment, Brian finally figured it out. "The Real Thing captured her?"

"Them. The Real Thing captured them." Lisa ticked off points on her fingers. "Blockade is the only member of that team who can fly, as far as I know. He can apparently outfly Rune, so she's in custody. Of the rest of the team, Kaiser probably wouldn't show up in the field until it's a done deal and Othala isn't a front-liner, so they likely had Krieg, Victor and Alabaster on the ground against Monochrome and Firebird. And you know what isn't anywhere online, even on the sites that the Empire think only like-minded people visit?"

It took less time for Brian to work that one out. "Any news that the Real Thing has been taken down."

Lisa touched her fingertip to her nose, then pointed at Brian with it. "Got it in one. If they'd gotten even one member of the team that beat the living fuck out of Hookwolf—no easy feat, that—and captured three other members, they'd be crowing it from the rooftops. But not a single word. Not from any of them. About anything. And after Victor left a 'watch this space' on these sites last night … that's very telling indeed."

"Wait." Brian felt like he was suddenly on the back foot. "Are you saying … none of the Empire capes at all are posting? About anything?"

"I'm saying more than that, Watson." Lisa's grin became a mischievous smirk. "I'm saying they're not because they can't. I'm saying that the PRT are investigating a totally innocuous house in the suburbs, which has a couple of broken windows and a spectacularly trampled flower bed, but nothing else wrong with it that would suggest villain involvement. But if a few subtle dots get connected, that's where the Real Thing tracked the Empire down to, and the final capture was made. They're all in custody. That's the only possible conclusion."

"But … how?" Brian was getting more out of his depth by the second. "Even discounting Othala as a combat cape, the rest of the Empire has people I do not want to tangle with. If there'd been a fight there, more than a couple of windows would be broken, trust me."

"There wasn't a fight, that's how." Lisa shrugged, though the smirk was still in evidence. "The Real Thing came at them so hard and fast that the Empire was beaten before they realised there was a problem."

"… oh." Brian was inclined to scoff at this until he recalled just how abruptly Monochrome and Blockade had ended the battle royale between the Empire and the ABB. "Well, that sucks. For them, anyway."

Lisa's expression morphed back to a grin. "There's more, but I'm still figuring that out. Right now, you know what we've got the chance to do?"

Brian frowned suspiciously. "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Stash houses. Empire and ABB both. We can hit a whole bunch of them in a short time before anyone's the wiser." Lisa spread her arms wide. "Fuck the drugs, we'll take the cash. All that lovely, filthy lucre. Hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth. Maybe millions. All ours for the taking."

Alec chose this moment to peer around the corner of the corridor. "Did someone say something about millions, and ours for the taking?"

"She sure did." Brian turned and headed toward his bedroom. "Suit up. Get Rachel up. We're doing this."

Behind him, Lisa closed her laptop with a clack. "Mwahahaha."

Right then, he agreed with the sentiment.

<><>​

Director Emily Piggot

Interrogation Room One

Renick had not been idle in the time between Kaiser's capture and her own arrival back at the PRT building. Every potential hard surface in the interrogation room had been padded to a fare-thee-well, and Kaiser himself had been blindfolded. Even the handcuffs with which he was secured to the (padded) table were themselves covered with fluffy felt, from which Kaiser could grow no metal spikes.

"I have to say, this is shaping up to be a really good week for me," Emily said as she sat down. "First, Hookwolf and Lung and your twin nuisances get taken off the board, and now you and the rest of your merry little band of fuckups have joined them. I'm going to have to put some serious thought into the size of the fruit basket I owe the Real Thing." She chose not to say anything about Coil as yet. There was no sense in giving Kaiser any more information than necessary.

"I presume I'm talking to Director Emily Piggot." Kaiser wasn't begging or pleading. Instead, he was speaking with all the cultured diction she'd learned to expect from Max Anders. "You need to listen to me. There's been a terrible mistake."

"Ah, yes," Emily mused. "Let me guess. The real Kaiser mugged you and dressed you in his armour just before the Real Thing showed up and arrested you?"

"Not precisely like that, but you have the gist, yes," Anders insisted. "It's what happened, I swear. I'm not Kaiser. And this automatic disbelief is precisely what he's counting on. If you keep focusing on me and don't start looking for the real Kaiser, then who knows what he'll do to free the rest of his gang!"

She had to admit, he was really convincing. The way he'd skated out of the prior incident with Purity was becoming more understandable all the time. Kaiser had made a career out of making a lie look like the truth and the truth look like a lie, all under the nose of the PRT.

"Hmm. You know what, I think we'll keep you here for the moment," she said, dragging it out because god this was fun after all the years of these bastards rubbing her face in the dirt. "We'll keep our eyes and ears open because that's basically our job, but just to cross all the T's and dot all the I's, I'm thinking we'll put you through the MRI machine and see if you're sporting a corona pollentia with an active gemma in your brain. Because if you are, that'll simplify matters dramatically."

"Seriously, Director Piggot? An MRI?" Kaiser was good at this. Even now, when most men would be shitting bricks, he was playing the role of the misunderstood businessman to the very hilt. "Do we really have to go this far? Because I can guarantee you, I do not consent to illegal procedures like that, and once I'm cleared of this ridiculous allegation, I will be suing your entire department into the bedrock."

"Well, no, not illegal." Emily slapped a piece of paper on the table. "Oh, sorry, you can't read this. But you'll have to take my word for it that this is a search warrant. One of several I've had prepped today. This one right here literally allows us to search your brain for evidence that you have active powers. So put your mind at ease. You won't have to go through all the aggravation and cost of a lawsuit, because you have no grounds for one."

Kaiser paused for a long moment. "I'm invoking my Sixth Amendment rights to a lawyer. Contact my office. They'll know who to send in. I'm not saying another word until he gets here."

"Absolutely." Emily smiled. "But in case you were under the impression this would delay the MRI, think again. We're totally going ahead with that. We just won't be asking you any more questions until the legal eagle gets here."

Kaiser was tough nut to crack. "I will make one statement, just to show you how badly you're going wrong here. Remember when Purity was arrested, and a big deal was made about how she was my wife? It was suggested then that I was Kaiser, too. I proved I wasn't then, and that proof still holds true." He sat back as far as the cuffs would let him, a satisfied expression written all over the part of his face she could see.

"Well, no." Emily would've said something about being sorry about bursting his bubble, but she really wasn't. "You provided an alibi at the time, which we unfortunately swallowed: hook, line and sinker. Too bad Victor isn't out and about in the city to provide a convenient sighting of Kaiser on a rooftop, hmm?"

His shoulders didn't slump; he was made of far sterner stuff than that. But they did twitch downward just a little. "I'm saying nothing more until my lawyer gets here."

She nodded. "Probably wise."

Getting up, she went to the door and signalled the crew with the gurney. Like the interrogation room, it was padded wherever possible. The MRI was, in the end, a mere formality. As she'd said, a crossing of the T's and dotting of the I's.

But it was on such things that solid cases were built.



End of Part Thirty-One

 

[edale]

Lisa's expression morphed back to a grin. "There's more, but I'm still figuring that out. Right now, you know what we've got the chance to do?"

Brian frowned suspiciously. "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Stash houses. Empire and ABB both. We can hit a whole bunch of them in a short time before anyone's the wiser." Lisa spread her arms wide. "Fuck the drugs, we'll take the cash. All that lovely, filthy lucre. Hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth. Maybe millions. All ours for the taking."

Alec chose this moment to peer around the corner of the corridor. "Did someone say something about millions, and ours for the taking?"

"She sure did." Brian turned and headed toward his bedroom. "Suit up. Get Rachel up. We're doing this."

Behind him, Lisa closed her laptop with a clack. "Mwahahaha."

Click to shrink...

So.... how pissed will Lisa be that she got so distracted by the hundreds of thousands of dollars of Empire cash, that she missed the chance to collect tens of millions from Coil's stashes?

 

[Lictre]

Because of the way Max was brought in with active cape members of E88, dressed in Kaiser's armor, that can legally constitute "Probable Cause" for the purpose a search warrant of Max Ander's person for the presence of a Corona Pollentia and Gemma. With "probable cause" established, a judge would have no reason to not issue a search warrant that would allow a compulsory medical examination.

These circumstances mean that so long as the PRT waited for the issuance of a warrant, there is no chance of any legal objection about "Unreasonable Search and Seizure", so their Fourth Amendment rights would be scrupulously observed. Once the presence of those brain structures is confirmed, those same circumstances would then permit the issuing of search warrants for all of those capes' homes, vehicles, places of work, computers, and so on.

If a judge refused to issue a warrant in this sort of situation, there's a good chance another judge might accept that refusal to issue a warrant (if asked) as probable cause to permit a search of the first judge's home, office and financial records for evidence of either financial links to Anders, or support of the E88.

 

[Lictre]

So.... how pissed will Lisa be that she got so distracted by the hundreds of thousands of dollars of Empire cash, that she missed the chance to collect tens of millions from Coil's stashes?

Click to shrink...

Maybe not at all. The grabbing of cash stashes from the E88 and ABB needs to be done immediately, but it's possible that she could wait ten or twelve hours, then engage in massive digital plundering of Coil's assets. It will take time for the investigators to locate Calvert's various big-money holdings, which means time for Lisa to act without having to jump through the procedural hoops that law enforcement personnel will have to observe.

For her and the rest of the Undersiders, this is a pretty awesome payday even without Coil's money, just from what they'll be grabbing from the large gangs' stashes. Lisa has the opportunity to make it BIG!

 

[Therandomestpersons]

So.... how pissed will Lisa be that she got so distracted by the hundreds of thousands of dollars of Empire cash, that she missed the chance to collect tens of millions from Coil's stashes?

Click to shrink...

Well, its possible that due to how hush-hush the Coil thing is being handled, she doesn't actually know that Coil has gotten bagged yet. So it could be less 'gotten distracted' and more 'isn't aware of this information yet'. Or, as has been said by another commenter, that she is focusing on the more time sensitive objective first. Or perhaps that since she had already been awake for some time, that she had already started the process of doing that? There's multiple possibilities here.

Anyway, regardless of that, that is like all of the major gang capes dealt with. Because didn't they dumpster the merchants earlier on?

 

[Ack]

So.... how pissed will Lisa be that she got so distracted by the hundreds of thousands of dollars of Empire cash, that she missed the chance to collect tens of millions from Coil's stashes?

Click to shrink...

Coil isn't nearly as solvent in this fic as he is in canon. Every time he tries to expand his holdings, he gets shut down by the PRT.

He's got money, sure, just not a huge amount. No Bond Villain Base. No horde of mercenaries.

Lisa will get to him in time, though, once she finishes connecting the dots about his arrest.

 

[edale]

Coil isn't nearly as solvent in this fic as he is in canon. Every time he tries to expand his holdings, he gets shut down by the PRT.

He's got money, sure, just not a huge amount. No Bond Villain Base. No horde of mercenaries.

Lisa will get to him in time, though, once she finishes connecting the dots about his arrest.

Click to shrink...

coil doesn't have the endbringer shelter in this?

 

[Ack]

coil doesn't have the endbringer shelter in this?

Click to shrink...

He does not.

He sank a ton of money into bribes and kickbacks and such, but the PRT pinged it (despite his best efforts) before it properly got started. The builder ended up in a lot of trouble, but he had enough cut-outs involved that he managed to slide out of the way before attention got to him.

He's still pissed about that.

 

[TitaniumQuartz971]

He does not.

He sank a ton of money into bribes and kickbacks and such, but the PRT pinged it (despite his best efforts) before it properly got started. The builder ended up in a lot of trouble, but he had enough cut-outs involved that he managed to slide out of the way before attention got to him.

He's still pissed about that.

Click to shrink...

That certainly explains why his "safe" timeline was in his own house.

 

[Ack]

That certainly explains why his "safe" timeline was in his own house.

Click to shrink...

It does, doesn't it?

 

[Avernus]

It did demonstrate the fundamental problem with the concepts of "throwaway" & "safe" timelines; nobody's ever really safe, especially in a place like Earth Bet/Brockton Bay. Heck, even if he had his base there's still the chance he might do something like choke on his food or trip and crack his head on the corner of his desk. A small risk at any given time to be sure, but if you keep rolling the dice long enough you'll get a bad roll.

Whenever he used a "throwaway" timeline to do something that would screw him over if it actually happened he was rolling the dice that misfortune would never befall him in the supposedly "safe" timeline, and in this story the dice came up snake eyes. If he'd just been doing something moderately risky he'd at least still have had a chance to recover from his sudden death in the "safe" timeline, but he went full no-backup-plan on his little intelligence probe and had no way out.

 

[Therandomestpersons]

Yeah, Coil is very much a fan of extreme hubris like that. Even if he wasn't able to actually be one in this fic, 'reject bond villain' continues to be the best description of him i've ever heard.

 

[Ack]

Yeah, Coil is very much a fan of extreme hubris like that. Even if he wasn't able to actually be one in this fic, 'reject bond villain' continues to be the best description of him i've ever heard.

Click to shrink...

In this one, he goes one step farther to 'rejected' Bond villain.

 

[Ack]

Earning Her Stripes

Part Thirty-Two: Taking Advantage

[A/N 1: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: The first few paragraphs have been lifted out of another fic of mine, because why the hell not.]



Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Outside an Empire Stash House

Frankie "Hard" Knox had just one job, and he was good at it.

He'd played college ball once upon a time (before he was kicked out of college) and he was still a big husky guy. With his shaved head and tattoos (neither of which he'd had in college) he could scare the absolute fuck out of anyone who came too close to the stash house when he was on watch. For those who were too stoned to scare, he had a stun-gun. Unlike a lot of his buddies, he didn't get bored easily, so he could relax all day without falling asleep on watch.

His buddy Brett'd been in the habit of having a toke or two when it was quiet, and sneaking off for a little shut-eye. He'd warned Brett that one day someone was gonna catch him at it, and then there'd be hell to pay. That 'someone' turned out to be Hookwolf. Brett was still around, but he had a few new scars and he didn't do guard duty anymore.

So Frankie took his job real serious. He never stayed in the same position for more than fifteen minutes, and he took a little stroll every hour or two. Never out of sight of the steps he was guarding, but far enough to get the blood flowing again.

Mitch, his usual partner on this shift, was less full-on about the whole thing. But then, Frankie didn't like him. To be fair, Mitch was a bit of an asshole. He was also fifty pounds heavier than Frankie and a fuck-ton dumber, and Frankie was almost sure he'd once seen Mitch coming out of one of the brothels the ABB used to operate. In any case, Mitch hadn't been there to see Hookwolf drag Brett into the alleyway behind the stash house and beat him bloody. Frankie could still remember the look in his buddy's eyes when he realised just how fucked he was.

Which was why, when the Undersiders came riding along the street, Frankie was the first one on his feet. They might have been lost or going someplace else, but it was a hell of a coincidence for them to come straight to the wrong innocent-looking house that had two shaven-headed guys sitting out front. He'd heard Tattletale was a psychic, or the next best thing to one, and the smug aura she was emanating as the dinosaur-rhino dogs clumped closer didn't make him any happier about the whole situation.

Bitch's monsters came to a halt in front of the stash house, confirming his worst fears. On the upside, the creatures were merely eyeing him off like a tasty meat snack, not actually going for him, but he had no faith in that lasting for long. While he'd only attended a few of Hookwolf's dogfights—he honestly had better things to do with his time—he was fully aware that Bitch didn't like them, and probably considered (with some justification) every member of the Empire responsible for them.

Still, he was there and if he didn't say something then he'd be branded as a chickenshit or worse. So he cleared his throat and said the first thing that came to mind. "Uh, you folks want to be riding along now, before shit gets serious."

While he was still berating himself over how much it sounded like a line out of a Western, Tattletale smirked. "Oh, honey," she said. "Haven't you heard? It's already serious. Your bosses are in lockup. Every last one of them."

Mitch finally roused himself, staring at the assembled Undersiders. "The fuck you talkin' about, bitch?"

Tattletale's smirk intensified to razor sharpness. "No, I'm Tattletale. That's Bitch over there. I'm saying that Kaiser, Krieg, Victor, Othala, Alabaster and Rune all got themselves captured last night, by the Real Thing." She gestured at the stash house. "Now, I know you're here to guard this place. But ask yourselves this. Without capes to back you up, how much of a chance do you think you'll stand against us?"

That was, Frankie decided, a fucking good question. The capture of Hookwolf, Crusader, and the Viking twins had already sent shockwaves through the rank and file of the Empire Eighty-Eight, but there had always been the underlying expectation that Kaiser was working on a plan to bust them loose. While she could've been lying about the capture of Kaiser and the others, he couldn't exactly rule it out either.

Not a hell of a lot, he privately admitted.

"Fuck off!" scoffed Mitch. "We'll fuckin' wreck your shit, you stupid little—"

Frankie wasn't exactly a gentleman, and the concept of chivalry had never really resonated with him. The main reason he pulled out his stun-gun and jammed it into Mitch's ribs was pure self-preservation; there was no way in fuck he wanted to be in the way of the retribution for whatever ill-advised insult the moron had been about to hurl Tattletale's way. He kept it going for as long as he could, mainly because the longer Mitch was down and unable to talk, the better.

When Mitch finally fell over, Frankie could almost swear he smelled smoke, but that wasn't his problem. His biggest problem was right in front of him, but he hoped like hell he'd gone some way toward making it not a problem. "Ignore him. Moron can't tell his ass from his elbow. Not that I can stop you from comin' in anyway, but you got any proof of what you're sayin'?"

Tattletale, whose eyes had narrowed behind her mask at the opening words of Mitch's tirade, smiled sunnily at him. "Totes," she assured him. "PRT scooped them up last night, after the Real Thing took them down. Safe house in Brentwood."

That sealed the deal for Frankie. The Empire indeed maintained a safe house in the upscale residential suburb of Brentwood, but the only people who knew about it were the capes and the ones who were trusted to guard stash houses. He'd never even been there himself, but he knew it existed. The fact that Tattletale tossed out its location so casually told him that it wasn't even an important bit of information for her.

"Well, shit," he said, the words more a sigh of resignation than anything else. "How are we gonna do this?"

Tattletale's smile widened.

<><>​

Grue

"We could've taken it all," whined Alec as they rode away, the saddlebags bulging noticeably with the take from the stash house. "Why'd you leave any for those bottom-feeders?"

Brian figured he knew. "As soon as they agreed to take some, they were complicit. And we left all the drugs for them to divide up between themselves. If we'd taken the lot and left them nothing, some of them might've done something stupid, and maybe gotten lucky. But as soon as Tattletale said they'd be getting a share, you could see the cogs turning in their heads. They went from fight-or-flight mode to 'how much is my share?' in about two seconds flat."

"Got it in one," Lisa confirmed. "With the added incentive that if a higher-up does come by, all they have to say is that we took it all."

"So, uh, how sure are you that the Empire capes won't be escaping?" Alec suddenly sounded a little unsure about the situation. Brian could understand why: the spectre of Kaiser and Hookwolf coming after them for all the vanished money and drugs would be a daunting one.

"Very." Lisa sounded certain of herself, but that was her ground state. He'd seen her be confidently wrong before; fortunately, it hadn't been all that often. "From the cross-chatter I was able to dig up, the Director's not taking any chances with the Empire Eighty-Eight or the ABB capes. Hookwolf and Lung are Birdcage bound as soon as she can expedite it. Kaiser and the others are off to whatever supermax she can stuff them into."

"That's not exactly a guarantee, you know," Alec said. "Hookwolf's been busted out before."

"That was with Empire capes on the loose, and Coil giving out shot-calls to make it happen," Lisa riposted. "Without access to cape powers or the big Empire stashes, they've got no easy way to bust their bosses out. Piggot's in the best possible position she could be in right now, and she knows it. She's going to wring every last shred of advantage she can out of it."

"Which is why we're hitting gang stashes instead of jewellery stores, right?" Brian meant it as a rhetorical question. "The longer we can stay off her radar, the better."

"Oh, we're totally on her radar." Lisa sent him a flashing grin. "We're just making sure we're not a priority for her."

"Ah." It would've been nice, Brian reflected, if Lisa had explained that a little more clearly earlier.

Still, the nest egg he was gathering was going to take care of his money problems for a long time to come.

<><>​

Director Emily Piggot, PRT ENE

"I'm not entirely sure I see the problem, Emily." On the screen, Hearthrow leaned back in his chair, flicking a pen between his fingers. "You currently have fewer active villains in your city than at any time in the last twenty years. The only gangs left are small fry. Why do you think you need more PRT personnel or capes now?"

"Because this is very much the calm before the storm," she gritted. "Talk to Armstrong if you don't believe me. This is a perfect setup for a repeat of the Boston Games, one that I was working hard to avoid. As soon as word gets out that the local underworld is open for the taking, they will be coming here. I don't feel like hosting a free-for-all just when I'd got this city working properly again."

He frowned. "I feel that you might be overstating your case a little. Sure, one or two displaced villains might decide to relocate, but the era of events like the Boston Games is over and done. It couldn't happen again."

"Why?" she asked bluntly. "Just because it hasn't happened recently doesn't mean it can't or won't. We haven't had a big city like this cleared of major villains in years, so there's no telling how it'll turn out."

"Exactly my point." He sounded pleased with himself. "There's no reason at all to think your doom-and-gloom prediction is at all accurate. Personally, I think you're jumping at shadows. Besides, you're already well-staffed as it is. If anything, now that the ABB and the Empire Eighty-Eight are no longer a going concern, we should be looking at drawing down some of your personnel and sending them to where they're really needed." He didn't quite say 'like here', but Emily heard the words loud and clear all the same.

"Seriously?" She shook her head, irritated that he was even trying to pull that shit. "Are you forgetting that I still have a city full of very recently ex-gang members, who are likely to either try to bust their bosses loose or jump on the bandwagon with the next villain who happens to wander into town and set up shop? This city might not be a powder keg anymore, but it's only one step down from being one."

"Well, why aren't you doing something about it? If your own people aren't up to the task of dealing with new villains in town, why don't you sic this Real Thing team I've been hearing so much about on the bad guys? In fact, why don't you set them to finding out who destroyed that school?"

It was clear by now that Hearthrow was determined not to even admit that Emily needed any assistance, but she forged on anyway. "That only works if you can locate the villains and get the heroes to them in good time. The Real Thing aren't under my command, so even if I knew where any potential new villains were, I couldn't order them to take care of the matter." She refused to rise to his bait regarding Winslow. There were still far too many questions and not enough answers surrounding that particular incident.

"I'm honestly sorry to hear that, Emily." He could even have been serious, though she sincerely doubted it. "Keep me updated on the Real Thing. They sound like an interesting team."

"Will do." She ended the call, then sat back in her chair and muttered a few choice epithets, aimed in Hearthrow's general direction.

It was true that the Brockton Bay branch of the PRT enjoyed a relatively generous budget for manpower and equipment, mainly due to the higher-than-normal incidence of criminal capes that seemed intent on infesting the ENE area. However, there was a distinct difference between keeping said villains in check with the intent of gradually forcing them out of the region, and discouraging an enterprising new influx of villains from taking up where the previous crop had left off.

The trouble was, all she had to back up her personal belief regarding the incoming problem was the single data point of the Boston Games, and the nagging feeling that it could happen again. She suspected that the Chief Director would need more than that before approving a budget increase for the ENE department, especially since (as Hearthrow had pointed out) the majority of the gang activity in the city had just been given a good swift boot in the head. If Costa-Brown couldn't see what she could, then all the arguing in the world would do not a damn bit of good. Which was why she was asking her fellow Directors to spare her personnel rather than going hat in hand to Washington.

The downside of this approach was that they could just as easily say no, as Hearthrow had just done. Still, he was just one person. There were more Directors she could talk to; hopefully, at least one of them would be willing to listen.

<><>​

Later

New York PRT Building

Hero

"I really think she's got a point about a potential repeat of the Boston Games," Director Wilkins said thoughtfully. "The city would be wide open for it. I'm going to send a couple of strike teams up on detached duty until it's settled, one way or the other. Do you have any ideas for capes to back them up?"

Graham considered his response. New York had no serious threats in the offing at the moment. It wouldn't cost the city much to support Brockton Bay, and keeping the region stable did everyone a favour. "Absolutely. Prism could do with stretching her legs out from under my umbrella, and Cache will be a good backup for her. Also, one of our Wards, Flechette. You may have seen my report about how she's being targeted by a particularly irritating villain called March. Until we can pin March down, sending Flechette out of town will probably do her the world of good too."

Wilkins nodded slowly. "I concur. Good calls on all three. I'll have the paperwork expedited to your office so you can sign off on it."

He gave her his trademark grin and tapped the side of his goggles in a mock salute. "Copy that, Director."

<><>​

A Little Later Again

Taylor

I had to admit, Hero had a gift for being charismatic, even when standing back while Director Wilkins of New York opened the press conference. It wasn't just his prestige for being what some called the world's greatest Tinker (which he totally was) but something more than that. Back when Legend first quit the Protectorate, some had wondered about Hero's ability to fill his predecessor's shoes as head of the team. He'd blown the doubters clear out of the water (so to speak) and gone on to lead the team from strength to strength.

Not only was he good looking (from what the public could see under his goggles) but he was also just plain nice. Capes tended to clash, especially when they were jockeying for good ratings, but Hero never bothered with stuff like that. He always gave his fellow heroes the credit they were due, and never tried to hog the limelight.

Not that there was much chance of doing that during a press conference, but he handled those with style and aplomb as well. Emma, Madison and I were watching this latest one, mainly because there'd been a mention in the news that there was going to be something about Brockton Bay in it.

Before we got powers, we might've watched it because cape stuff was occasionally interesting. Now, we were watching it because any cape events that involved Brockton Bay were by definition very interesting.

"I have to admit," Emma said in an offhand manner, "for a Tinker, he's very fit."

I'd made that observation myself but I hadn't voiced it out loud, mainly because I didn't want the others thinking that I was ogling Hero's manly muscles. Which I had been doing, just a little, but I was still paying attention to what the Director was saying.

"I'm pretty damn fit, and I'm a Tinker," Madison reminded her. "Maybe you might want to leave off trying to pigeonhole us all as losers who spend all their time hunched over a bench in the basement."

"Yeah, but you're different," I said. "You Tinker with heavy stuff. If you hadn't gotten fit, you'd be flat on your back, gasping for breath after five minutes."

Emma nodded. "It's true. Before we got powers, you weren't exactly the most athletic person in Winslow. Now, you're ripped."

"Yeah, well, you weren't either," Madison pointed out accurately. "It took your power to make you into Jackie Chan on steroids."

"Guys! Guys!" I hissed. "The Director's finished talking!"

They turned their attention back to the screen, just as Hero stepped up to the microphones. "Thank you, Director Wilkins," he said smoothly. "Good evening to you all. Thank you for attending this conference. Some of you may be wondering why we're making a big deal about the temporary transfer of some of our heroes to Brockton Bay, but honestly, we're not."

One of the news guys raised his hand. "Ben Portland, New York Post. If you're not making a big deal of it, why are we even having this press conference about it?"

Hero paused to chuckle briefly. "You make a good point. The truth of the matter is, it's a perfectly routine training exercise between us and Brockton Bay that's been blown out of all proportion. Prism, as my second in command, will be benefiting from exercising her own judgement in an unfamiliar environment, and Cache and Flechette will be accompanying her. However, a rumour seems to be getting around that our heroes are going up there to assist the East-North-East Protectorate in apprehending the new cape team The Real Thing. While they've been making quite the waves in the region, I can assure you that nothing could be further from the truth. The Protectorate will continue to integrate and work with local heroes, as it always has."

"That's us he's talking about," I said as another reporter asked an equally inane question. "We're the 'local heroes'."

"Yup." Emma looked quietly pleased. "But the Director didn't say anything about bringing in capes to integrate and work with us. Why are they really coming here?" None of us actually believed the line about the 'perfectly routine training exercise'.

"It must be the other thing," Madison decided. "The part she mentioned about moving too fast, and not giving other villains the message that it's unsafe to come here. She's bringing in reinforcements to help stop any of these villains in their tracks before they can get settled, the way Kaiser and Lung were."

Emma and I looked at her, then at each other. "That's got to be it." It made total sense to me. "Since when have you been a cape analyst, Mads?"

Madison rolled her eyes. "Did it never occur to either of you that the cute ditzy act was just that, an act? Sure, I put most of my mental effort before into looking and acting so adorable that the teachers would never suspect me of anything, but these days I've got different priorities. So, I've started paying attention to shit like that."

"Good point." Emma nodded approvingly. "Though you were smart not to do that while we were hanging with Sophia. She never trusted anyone with more brains than her." She gave me a sly glance. "Probably why she hated Taylor so much."

I wrinkled my nose at her. "I notice she never hated on you for your intellect."

The scuffle that started then involved a lot of tickling, but no powers whatsoever. By the time it was done, we were all helpless with laughter and ready to move on with the rest of the evening.

<><>​

New York

March

May leaned back in her chair as the press conference ended and a commercial came on. "So, she thinks she can escape me by going on a training exercise, hmm?" A cruel smile spread across her face. "I think it's time to show her the error of her ways. And if any of these so-called heroes get in my way, they'll get the same treatment."

She didn't often laugh out loud as part of her monologue, but this time it seemed appropriate.

March was going to Brockton Bay, and nobody—and nothing—was going to stop her from getting what she wanted.



End of Part Thirty-Two

 

[Avernus]

Man, that Mitch guy has no survival drive at all. It's not like "giant monster dogs" are a subtle, easy to miss danger. He's lucky he got tazed before he got turned into their chew toy.

 

[Lictre]

Man, that Mitch guy has no survival drive at all. It's not like "giant monster dogs" are a subtle, easy to miss danger. He's lucky he got tazed before he got turned into their chew toy.

Click to shrink...

It may have been that he was working on insufficiently current information about the status of the Empire capes, thus thinking that cape reinforcement WOULD be available if called for. It could also have been that he was just too used to being sufficiently personally threatening that he thought the Undersiders would leave because he was sufficiently threatening. Of course, neither of those reduces the likelihood of the other in the slightest, so it could very easily be both, combined with a critical lack of threat assessment.

 

[My_Game_Account]

Heck yeah! I have been looking forward to this. Thanks for the chapter. I can't wait to read the next one. Hopefully Flechette will be okay.

 

[Avernus]

It may have been that he was working on insufficiently current information about the status of the Empire capes, thus thinking that cape reinforcement WOULD be available if called for. It could also have been that he was just too used to being sufficiently personally threatening that he thought the Undersiders would leave because he was sufficiently threatening. Of course, neither of those reduces the likelihood of the other in the slightest, so it could very easily be both, combined with a critical lack of threat assessment.

Click to shrink...

I'll vote for "critical lack of threat assessment"; the Undersiders were right there after all, and even if the E88 capes were still free the odds of an Empire cape showing up in time to do Mitch any good would have been really poor. Heck, even if one was nearby most of them would wait for reinforcements since they wouldn't want to take on all the Undersiders at once by themselves.

 

[Ack]

I'll vote for "critical lack of threat assessment"; the Undersiders were right there after all, and even if the E88 capes were still free the odds of an Empire cape showing up in time to do Mitch any good would have been really poor. Heck, even if one was nearby most of them would wait for reinforcements since they wouldn't want to take on all the Undersiders at once by themselves.

Click to shrink...

He was also a dick, and might have been under the effects of drugs.

 

[Barbaric_Bob]

Man, that Mitch guy has no survival drive at all. It's not like "giant monster dogs" are a subtle, easy to miss danger. He's lucky he got tazed before he got turned into their chew toy.

Click to shrink...

ah, but you forgot to divide his IQ by Nazi
there really wasn't much left after that

 

[Lictre]

I'll vote for "critical lack of threat assessment"; the Undersiders were right there after all, and even if the E88 capes were still free the odds of an Empire cape showing up in time to do Mitch any good would have been really poor. Heck, even if one was nearby most of them would wait for reinforcements since they wouldn't want to take on all the Undersiders at once by themselves.

Click to shrink...

I think that he was used to having that looming threat behind him and the rest of the gang, that if some of the normals in the group get messed up, that the nazi capes (*not to be confused with Cape Nazis, or even cape-nazis) would hunt down the offending person or group and make excessively bloody examples of them.

Also, the Undersiders weren't known for being particularly fatal when or if they did anything, so the nazi power-granting cape could visit and he'd get set up with regeneration enough times to get him healed back up to be useful to the gang. Depending on how fast the regeneration is, and how long the granted powers last, it might take more than one application of the 'healing'. Still a huge advantage over natural healing.

* Cape Nazis would be extremists in and for some area called Cape (whatever), and cape-nazis are similar to grammar-nazis, but obsessed with the details and specifics of powers, their effects, and how people with powers SHOULD act.

 

[TitaniumQuartz971]

And now one of the few shards that can pose a threat to Taylor is in play.

 

[Ack]

Earning Her Stripes

Part Thirty-Three: New Perspectives

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



Arcadia High School, the Next Day

Monochrome

Emma caught up with me as I strolled outside to enjoy the lunch break under one of the trees. Although I knew that the destruction of Winslow (I preferred to think of it as 'dropping my classes') had been an illegal act, any angst I might have felt over it was entirely overwhelmed by the very real awareness that I was in a far better situation now. It also didn't hurt in the slightest that Emma and Madison had performed an almost flawless one-eighty in their treatment of me. Having them as actual friends was still weird as fuck, but I was good with having that kind of weirdness in my life.

"Hey, Taylor," she said, falling into step beside me. "How's your day going?"

"Pop quiz in English. Pretty sure I aced it. Apart from that, school is boring, news at eleven." I headed toward a vacant table. "Wonder why they never had this sort of thing at Winslow. Would've made lunchtime a ton more bearable."

"You did attend Winslow, right?" She shook her head as she sat down, then reached out to run her fingers over the rough bark of the tree that overshadowed us. "The gangs would've marked out the trees as their territory, then there would've been gang tags, carving, idiots poisoning the trees belonging to other gangs, setting fire to them, the works."

"True." I sighed as I looked up at the tree. The occasional tiny shaft of sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating a soft green glow. Insects buzzed here and there. "Winslow: the very definition of 'why we can't have nice things'."

"Well, it's gone now, and we're here." Emma laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them, then looked over at me. "Any idea who the PRT thinks actually wrecked the place? Mads has a good alibi, because we were down at the Boardwalk when it happened. And none of the other villains in town had that kind of throw weight."

"Leet could've done it, I bet," I reminded her. Glancing around, I made sure nobody was close enough to listen in on our conversation. "He's done weirder things. That first time I got called in for an interview, they asked me if I can teleport building-sized masses, which I was able to say I can't. And your dad stopped them from asking me outright if I'd done it some other way."

"True, true." Emma moved her hands up and down, making herself nod. "You're saying they think Leet did it, then?"

I opened up my pita wrap. "Like I said, he's done weirder things." Then I took a bite, enjoying the flavour of the seasonings that had gone into it.

"Yeah, but …" She broke off as Madison emerged from the front doors of the school, and waved her arm to get the petite brunette's attention. "Yup, she's seen us."

"Good." I took another bite of the wrap. It was actually pretty good, better than Winslow had ever produced. Then again, that was a pretty low bar.

Emma looked back to me. "But they have to be asking the question: assuming Leet could wreck Winslow, why would he? Destroying a school doesn't fit any video game theme I ever heard of. Also, he was in custody—after running into you, or so I hear—the night before Winslow went boom. Why even set up a delayed explosion?"

"Hi, guys." Madison strode up to the table—for a girl who barely topped five feet, she could certainly put out a certain air of unstoppability—and sat down. "What are we talking about?"

"Eh, the PRT and Leet," I said. "What's new with you?"

"Not much, to be honest. Metal shop would be a lot more fun if I thought they'd let me improve a few of the machines. They're barely up to the purpose as it is." She opened her lunchbox and unwrapped a solid sandwich that looked like about half a cow between two pieces of bread. Ever since she'd started the heavy Tinker work, light salads had been off the menu for her. These days, it was bulk protein all the way.

"I hope you didn't even suggest it." I was pretty sure she hadn't, but it was always a good idea to check. "Or do some modification on the quiet." That was a little more likely. Again, I did a quick check for potential eavesdroppers. There was nobody sitting close enough to hear, nor anyone walking toward us.

She made a rude noise. "Give me some credit. I might not be the ditz I used to be, but cute little Madison Clements isn't supposed to be pulling apart heavy equipment and putting it back together better. If there's a more effective way of fucking up my secret identity, I can't think of it right now."

I smirked. "Also, if I know you, by the time you finished with them, they'd be twice the size and capable of carving through armour plate." I stabbed the straw into my juice box and took a drink. The reconstituted fruit juice was chilled and pleasantly tart.

"Well, duh. What use would they be, otherwise?" Madison rolled her eyes. "These people who design and build so-called heavy equipment need to crack a dictionary sometime. Their saws struggle with anything over an eighth of an inch thick. That's not 'heavy'. That's 'just getting started'. Geez." She took a decisive bite out of her sandwich to underline her statement.

Emma's eyes were alight with amusement at the banter between Madison and me. This wasn't quite teasing: sometimes, Madison just needed to vent about how poorly constructed everything around her was, and our leading statements gave her that outlet.

However, it seemed Emma was still intent on her earlier line of thought. "So, Mads; Taylor and I were just talking about how Winslow went from being a building to a pile of rubble, and who the PRT thinks might've done it."

"Well, they know it wasn't me," Madison said, as soon as she'd chewed and swallowed the bite. Then she looked at both of us. "I mean, I can think of three ways I could've done it, but I haven't actually built any of those devices except the big gun, and that would've left a crater, not a pile of rubble. Plus, I can prove I was on the Boardwalk at the time. I'm pretty sure Purity's still in PRT custody, and Leet was arrested the night before it happened. Which leaves …" She frowned. "Not a lot of people who could've done it, actually. Apart from Taylor, I mean."

Emma nodded, eating apple slices out of a zip-lock bag. "Technically, Leet could've set up something on a timer before he went speed racing through the suburbs and ran into Taylor, but I honestly can't think of any reason he might do that."

"Unless he attended the place back in the day, and hated it so much he finally decided to erase it from the face of the earth?" I suggested helpfully. It was bullshit, I knew it was bullshit, but it was the best I could do for a potential excuse. As they thought about it, I finished off my pita wrap.

"Somehow, I don't think so." One of Emma's new talents was apparently to keep talking while she ate. "I grant that it was a shitheap that other shitheaps only aspire to be as bad as, but like I said, that pair never does anything without some kind of video game connection. Also, the PRT has to have interrogated him on the subject. If he really did it, can you see him holding out? They're keeping quiet about it, which means they know he didn't do it."

Madison put her sandwich down for a second. "So, what you're saying is … what? They're bound to point the finger at Taylor any day now?"

"That's a distinct possibility." Emma crunched one more apple slice, then turned toward me. "If you've got a better direction to point them toward, we need to know it now. Do you have one?"

She was right. I knew she was right. But the trouble was, I didn't have one.

Crap.

<><>​

Flechette

Lily hefted her arbalest and waited for Prism to step down out of the helicopter, then followed her out when Cache gestured for her to go ahead of him. Weirdly, it felt warmer in Brockton Bay than it had in New York, but that could've just been a quirk of the weather. The view was definitely different, with fewer tall buildings and what she guessed was the Protectorate base out in the harbour, covered by a force field.

Waiting for them away from the arc of the rotor blades were three people: two capes and one normal. Armsmaster she'd already met in passing once upon a time, and she was reasonably sure the solidly built woman in the blue suit was Director Piggot. By process of elimination, that made the teenager with the lion-face helmet Triumph. He was the leader of the Wards East-North-East, so she'd be reporting to him while she was here.

"Welcome to Brockton Bay," the Director said, offering her hand. She didn't bother to raise her voice as the chopper started powering down behind Lily. "It's good to see you. How much have you been told of the current situation?"

"Only the basics." Prism shook her hand. "Any extra briefing you can give us will be good."

"Uh …" began Lily, half-raising her hand. "Can I say something, please?"

"Certainly." The Director looked her over. "In case you hadn't been told, the Wards are quartered in the PRT building. In addition, I have an open-door policy; if you have something you think I need to hear, I want to hear it yesterday."

"Uh, right." Lily took a deep breath. March probably wasn't in the city yet, and the top of the PRT building was about as secure as she was going to be when not actually indoors. "So, I've got a nemesis, called March. We got powers at the same time, from the same incident. Her powers are similar to mine, but she's very definitely a villain. And she's got a … a thing for me. Kind of cat and mouse."

Prism and Cache didn't react; they knew all this. Armsmaster's lips thinned, which was about the only visible reaction she could see from him. Triumph tilted his head slightly, as though he was trying to figure out what she was saying.

"I've been told a little about this," the Director confirmed. "Hero seemed to think that it would do you good to get away from her for a while."

Lily shook her head. "That's what I'm trying to say." The arbalest was getting heavy, so she rested the end of it on the roof. "This won't get me away from her. She'll totally follow me. I don't know how you run the Wards here, but we've got sub-teams in New York. No matter what sub-team I'm in, she locates me and attacks us with a bunch of minions she's trained up to counter our tactics. Nobody's died yet, but people have gotten hurt. She sees it as a game, but one that she's allowed to change the rules on any time she likes."

Director Piggot smiled briefly, then nodded as though Lily had confirmed something for her. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. Well, she's never operated in Brockton Bay before. Our newest up-and-coming independent team has managed to clear the board almost entirely, so if she sticks her head up, there's an old saying about grass and lawnmowers." Her tone indicated that she would be interested in observing the clash, from a safe distance, perhaps with an instant-replay button.

"Then they'll get hurt, or killed, depending on how hard they make her work for it," Lily objected. She didn't know these new heroes, but she didn't want them to suffer for March's obsession over her. "I've got a power that lets me cut through anything, and she's got a similar one. She's really good at hurting the people she's fighting, even when she's outnumbered. Armour just doesn't work against her."

"Anything?" Armsmaster's head came up at that. "Not most things? You can cut through anything at all?"

"Well, yes. Everything I've tried so far." Lily frowned, unsure where he was going with this. "Why?"

The Tinker smiled. "I have something in the lab I want you to look at for me."

<><>​

Monochrome

"Um," I said. "This could be problematic. I mean, Dad said never to do a heavy lift like that again, but what if I have to? Or if someone in that building makes a wild-ass guess and comes up with my name? They already know my secret identity."

"No shit." Madison's grimaced. "Okay, so how do we fix this? Because in my experience, anything can be fixed."

Emma shot her a mildly peeved glare. "In your experience, 'anything' is technology. This is going to take more than some percussive maintenance and a line of solder."

Madison brandished her sandwich, then took a bite out of it. "Bsshhht." She chewed and swallowed, then repeated herself. "Bullshit. We can fix this. We've got the resources. Taylor's good at breaking things on the quiet. I'm good at breaking things on the loud. You're good at talking."

"That doesn't actually help," Emma objected. "Once the PRT hit the right chain of logic, they're going to follow it to its natural conclusion. Director Piggot is extremely fucking switched on. She's not about to do a Blackwell and throw it in the 'too hard' basket."

"Okay, just wait just a moment." According to Emma, the cat was on the verge of escaping from the bag, and once it did, it would commence birthing litters of kittens by the second. I had to get ahead of this before events rolled over the top of me. Again, I checked our surroundings; we were still unobserved as far as I could see. Nobody was paying us any particular attention, anyway. "What chain of logic, exactly?"

Once the PRT came up to me and asked me directly, it would be because they had serious reason to ask. Lying to them, only to be found out, would utterly fuck over my credibility, and that of the team, and Emma's and Madison's if they backed me up. Which they would, because that was how they rolled these days. No matter my heroics to date, I was gloomily sure, the authorities wouldn't take it well.

Emma ate another piece of apple, then gestured between herself and Madison. "Well, we've seen how crazy strong you can be. The PRT has only seen a little of it, but once it comes out in full—especially if you have to reinforce something to pick it up from one end—then people are going to add two and two, and come up with a number between three and five. You've filled them in on exactly when we fed you the vial and gave you the powers, so they have a timeline for that too. And you hated Winslow. Method, motive, opportunity. As the saying goes: elementary, my dear Hebert."

"Well, duh, we all hated Winslow." Madison wrinkled her nose at Emma, then pulled a can of soda from her lunch and saluted me and Emma with it before popping the tab and taking a long drink. A moment later, she was rewarded with a deep rolling belch that her pre-powers self would've been mortified to produce. "Well, how exactly are we going to deal with this?"

Emma considered this, while shaking up a plastic bottle of orange juice prior to twisting the cap off. "Hmm. Not totally sure as yet. I've got a few ideas, but I brought it up now because better now than later. Either of you got a winning strategy tucked into your back pocket?"

"Wait." I looked at them both. "This would be your best chance to get out from under me. I mean, I'm only leader because you two fucked up so egregiously back in the day. But now you're established heroes. You wouldn't even have to drop a dime on me. I couldn't stop you from walking away now, or deciding that Emma was leader, even if I wanted to try."

"Yeah, and?" Emma flicked the plastic cap over her shoulder; it spun in the air and landed neatly in the trash can five yards away. "You're saying that like it's something we'd want to do. Remember, we asked you to be the leader. You're our best bet of never backsliding to the way we were before."

"Besides, when it comes down to it, we're as guilty as you are." Madison drained the can of soda, then crumpled it flat between her palms. "We're literally the ones who gave you the means and the motive. If we decided to walk because we could, then we'd be the biggest hypocrites in the world, and that's taking our previous 'let's be heroes while forcing you into the Birdcage' efforts into account. Because now we don't even have whatever the fuck was wrong with us before, pushing us to be total bitches."

That reminded me of something. I mentally put a pin into that thought while I finished off my juice box, then laced my fingers over it. "Okay, so what are your ideas?"

Emma leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice. "This might seem a little counter-intuitive, but hear me out. We tie in with the PRT and get word on every villain that the Director was worried would be coming into town, and we go after them hard and fast. Show her that we're willing to fix our mistake, such as it was. Basically, a show of strength, and a show of good faith."

I nodded slowly. "So, by the time they start wondering about Winslow again, we've built up a big enough rep that they're willing to cut us some slack." It felt a little thin, but it was better than nothing. "Madison, do you have any ideas?"

"Just one." She set her jaw grimly. "Next Endbringer attack, we line up to kick their ass. Nobody second-guesses someone who's fought an Endbringer."

It was true. I didn't like it, but it was true. Besides, I was pretty tough, and the Blockade suit was damn tough. "It's definitely worth a try, yeah."

"And one more thing," Emma added. "I tell Dad."

"What? Why?" I liked Mr Barnes, but keeping that secret was pretty near and dear to me.

She looked me dead in the eye. "So if it looks like they're sniffing a little too close for comfort, you turn yourself in and he's already got a case of mental anguish prepped to roll. Madison and I will testify to exactly how bad we made it for you, Sophia can get thrown to the wolves for all I care, and we'll have any number of people willing to say how bad Winslow was. By the time he's finished, he'll make it look like you did a public service to the city."

I had my doubts about that last bit, but she'd made some good points. "Okay, yeah. It's kind of a last-ditch thing, but I'm willing to trust him to get it right."

Emma nodded. "Only if we have to."

"Right." Reassured on that count, I started peeling my banana. "Um, talking about the Director, I had an idea when she called me in that time. Did your dad ever mention it to you, Emma?"

"Uh … not that I can recall." Emma looked at me with interest. "What idea is this?"

"Sophia," I said, then took a bite of banana. "What if her shadow form was actually a psychotropic gas that only affected non-capes, and it caused other people she hung around with to think like she did?"

"Like an absolute fuckin' maniac, you mean?" Madison had started peeling an orange with quick, sharp motions of her thumbnails, tearing through the thick rind and ripping it away from the fruit underneath. If I'd needed a reminder of how much strength she had in her hands now, that would've done it. "Actually, that makes a scary kind of sense. So what you're saying is, she's not just a Changer-Mover, she's also a Master too."

"Hypothetically," Emma corrected her. "Theoretically. Me, I don't buy it."

"Why not?" Madison stared at her. "It explains everything. Why we were such assholes to Taylor. Why everyone else went along with it. Even why Blackwell couldn't be bothered to do a damn thing to stop us."

"You know what else explains that?" Emma didn't bother waiting for Madison to answer. "People are dicks. People follow other people who seem to have a good idea. And too many people in authority are lazy and scared of other authority."

She turned to look at me, and I shrugged as I ate my banana. There was nothing she was saying that I could argue with. "I said it was an idea, not that I totally believed in it."

"Yeah." Emma nodded. "It's a nice, compelling idea. And it absolves me and Mads of any blame for what we did. Ties a neat bow on top of everything. Except that it's too neat for me. The world's a messy place. Shit happens. Not everything's got a good reason."

"Fair point." But then Madison grinned anyway, an expression of pure schadenfreude. "But you know what this means? If Taylor said it to the Director, she'd be obliged to treat it like it's legitimate. Right now, Sophia's probably locked away in Master-specific holding, over and above the normal precautions."

I slowly nodded, the truth of her statement sinking in. "And the funny thing? We can use the idea in the case, she can't disprove it, and it'll help us even if it's total bullshit."

"Dad always says the truth takes a back seat in the courtroom. Doesn't matter how you win, just so long as you do win." Emma offered her hand for a high-five. I reciprocated, then did the same with Madison.

I wasn't feeling totally secure about my future, but with my friends backing me up, it was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

<><>​

Flechette

Dink.

Lily frowned, staring at the shimmering grey metal block on the bench in front of her. Armsmaster had been remarkably close-mouthed about what it was, even as he turned off the ray he'd had playing on it, allowed it to warm up (the frost that had formed on it when he exposed it to air had been fairly impressive) and put it on the bench in front of her. "Cut it," he'd invited her, gesturing to the block.

So she'd taken one of her two-foot-long aluminum slivers, treated it to slice through any material, and prodded the block with it. Everything else she'd ever done this to had given way; steel, brick, titanium, concrete, tungsten. Nothing had even begun to offer resistance.

Yet all she got this time was a dull dink and the sliver stopped. The block was entirely unmarked.

Running her hand along the sliver, she reapplied the treatment just in case, then brought it down on top of the block, attempting to slice it in half without harming Armsmaster's bench. Tinkers were kind of sensitive about stuff like that.

Dink. Again, the block was entirely unmarked.

"What …?" She wanted to say the phrase that's impossible, but she was standing in a Tinker's lab. For them, the impossible usually meant a few extra days of figuring out the new parameters. "What's that made of?"

"I'm … not entirely certain." Armsmaster sounded almost embarrassed. Past his shoulder, Lily saw Director Piggot wearing an expression that said she wouldn't have missed this for the world. Cache and Prism, both fully aware of how her power worked, were exchanging bemused glances. "I didn't make it. Blockade calls it 'good steel' and says it doesn't allow dimensional shenanigans. Their words, not mine."

"What, really?" She shook her head. Armsmaster had a reputation for never joking about serious matters. "May I?"

"Be my guest." He gestured magnanimously toward the block. "Absolutely nothing I've been able to do has even scratched it. What I was doing to it before was a cold beam, holding it to just above absolute zero. There was no measurable contraction or expansion due to temperature change."

"Okay, then." Sheathing the sliver, she picked the block up. It was heavy, but not insanely so; about right for a piece of steel that size, she figured. "Let's see what happens when I do … this." Running her hand over it, she applied her power to it.

Or rather, tried to. It seemed to run off like water off an oiled rock.

She tried again, concentrating on infusing it with her ability, and make it light as a feather.

Absolutely nothing happened.

"Everything okay, Flechette?" asked Prism.

"Sure, peachy." Lily glowered at the innocuous piece of metal in her hand. "Except that this thing doesn't want to cooperate. I can't even empower it."

"Can I try something?" Prism held her hand out. "Maybe if I clone it, the cloned piece will be more amenable to doing stuff with."

"Sure, let's do this." Lily handed it over, then dusted her hands off theatrically. "Stupid thing doesn't even know what the rules are."

"Let's see." Prism shimmered, and there were suddenly three of her standing there. But only one of them held the block of metal; the other two, though they had their hands in the appropriate location, held nothing. "What? No. That's not how it works."

"I know, right? That's what I said." Lily pointed at the block. "That thing is impossible."

"Give me a try," said Cache. "Dimensional shenanigans are my bread and butter, and I've never failed to put anything away yet."

"Be my guest," Prism said, reabsorbing her clones and dropping the metal block into his hands.

"Just so you're aware," Armsmaster noted, "I've already had Clockblocker use his power on it. It remained as impervious as ever, yet could be picked up and moved with no difficulty."

"Clockblocker? Really?" Prism shook her head.

Lily looked around, wondering if Armsmaster was expressing a deeply hidden sense of humour, but the Tinker's bearded visage bore not even the slightest hint of a smile. "Did he lose a bet or something?"

"He chose the name himself," explained the Director. "That tells you all you really need to know about him."

Cache shook his head, then concentrated on the block. "Okay, doing this." Black lines and planes started forming around his hands, folding around the block and hiding it from view. He took his hands away as the shape enclosed by the planes got smaller and smaller. "Annnd …"

Suddenly, the black planes popped, and the metal block fell to the floor. It lay there as they stared at it, as untouched as ever. Lily had never before entertained the idea that an inanimate object could show emotions, but the block looked as smug as a piece of metal could.

"Very well." Armsmaster leaned down and scooped up the metal block. "This is what Blockade's power armour is composed of, as well as Firebird's throwing discs and Monochrome's staff. Firebird isn't fully armoured and Monochrome doesn't wear armour at all, but Firebird has beaten up at least two highly trained martial artists and made it seem easy, and I watched Monochrome choke out Lung while he was actually on fire. Flechette, do you believe that March has any more chance of getting through good steel than you do?"

Lily still had her reservations—it was never a good idea to be complacent around March—but this was the best news she'd had in some time. "I honestly don't know, but I'd love to see her try."

Armsmaster nodded approvingly. "Good answer."



End of Part Thirty-Three

 

[TitaniumQuartz971]

Is the Good Steel a frickin' Anti-Entity Metal!?

 

[Dovahkiin]

Is the Good Steel a frickin' Anti-Entity Metal!?

Click to shrink...

I'm just imagining it to be a vault making material, like build a structure out of it then store [DATA] in it and only the entity who made it can open it.

I imagine the Anti-Entity effect is a side effect.

 

[Avernus]

It seems like the opposite number of Sting. Sting uses "dimensional shenanigans" to cut through anything, Good Steel uses "dimensional shenanigans" to resist any form of change or damage, along with any dimensional tricks other than its own. I suspect it's also some kind of multidimensional material itself, extending into higher dimensions.

Given how Entity stuff works there's probably some specific counter to it, but they don't know what it is. In fact we already know of at least one; Monochrome's enhancement power does work on it, and she can break it. But the list of things that Monochrome/the Siberian can't break is...short.

 

[Itisn1tmyname]

In fact we already know of at least one; Monochrome's enhancement power does work on it, and she can break it. But the list of things that Monochrome/the Siberian can't break is...short

Click to shrink...

- which is what threw me for a loop, here. I was under the impression that Sting and Sibirian's Shard were siblings in the same sense as Queenie and High Priest are siblings: expressions of the same abilities* as viewed through the lens of the Warrior and the Thinker, respectively.

In other words, since Monochrome could affect this material, I expected Lily to also be able to affect it...


Well, maybe I am wrong about the relation of these Shards, or maybe it's different in this particular continuity. :3



*Edit: maybe "functions" is the better word here. Management for QA and HP, ultimate offence in the other pair.

 

[Ack]

- which is what threw me for a loop, here. I was under the impression that Sting and Sibirian's Shard were siblings in the same sense as Queenie and High Priest are siblings: expressions of the same abilities* as viewed through the lens of the Warrior and the Thinker, respectively.

In other words, since Monochrome could affect this material, I expected Lily to also be able to affect it...


Well, maybe I am wrong about the relation of these Shards, or maybe it's different in this particular continuity. :3



*Edit: maybe "functions" is the better word here. Management for QA and HP, ultimate offence in the other pair.

Click to shrink...

Lily can technically effect it ... so long as she brings along something that would normally be able to affect it.

If she empowered an industrial drill bit, and they put the good steel in a vise, they could bore a hole right through it. But an unempowered drillbit would do nothing.

But everyone sees her poking it with a piece of aluminium, and thinking, "her power doesn't work on it". It works, they just don't realise what they've got to do.