One More Trigger (Worm AU)

[Ack]

Yep, some third party is definitely manipulating the Samaritans to clean out the trash.

Click to shrink...

Why do you say that?

The Empire was trying to stampede Parian into their ranks at the same time as Piggot was trying to push her into the Wards.

The Samaritans captured Oni Lee and figured out that the Empire was behind it.

They were played into capturing Lee (but the Empire never thought they'd even get involved).

 

[GladiusLucix]

Why do you say that?

The Empire was trying to stamped Parian into their ranks at the same time as Piggot was trying to push her into the Wards.

The Samaritans captured Oni Lee and figured out that the Empire was behind it.

They were played into capturing Lee (but the Empire never thought they'd even get involved).

Click to shrink...

Unless Coil was trying to frame the Empire for framing Oni Lee.

Or has he been taken down already?

 

[Ack]

Unless Coil was trying to frame the Empire for framing Oni Lee.

Or has he been taken down already?

Click to shrink...

Oh, he was taken down long ago.

 

[Muroshi9]

Wow you planed well in advance on that one. Nice job.

 

[meloa789]

Why do you say that?

The Empire was trying to stampede Parian into their ranks at the same time as Piggot was trying to push her into the Wards.

The Samaritans captured Oni Lee and figured out that the Empire was behind it.

They were played into capturing Lee (but the Empire never thought they'd even get involved).

Click to shrink...

I might have gotten the wrong impression that someone else with higher stakes wanted to create the impression that this was an Empire job, so they would be dealt with the Samaritans immediately.

 

[Ack]

I might have gotten the wrong impression that someone else with higher stakes wanted to create the impression that this was an Empire job, so they would be dealt with the Samaritans immediately.

Click to shrink...

Nope.

It is indeed an Empire job.

 

[Ack]

One More Trigger

Part Thirty-Four: Play Stupid Games …

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



Saturday, April 30, 2011; 01:45 PM
PRT Building
Director's Office

Emily Piggot was not a parahuman. She'd been specifically tested for the potential, years ago, and it had been concluded that she was among the fortunate majority who would never trigger with powers, no matter what the stimulus. (She considered it fortunate, not the testing body). Her utter lack of a corona pollentia, confirmed every year at her insistence by an MRI scan, gave her a sense of personal security. I'll never be one of them.

While nobody below her in the chain of command (and that meant essentially everyone in the PRT building and the ENE Protectorate HQ) would say to her face that she was bigoted against capes, the occasional rumour to that effect had surfaced in her hearing. Had she been charged with such, she would have denied it strenuously; was it bigotry to believe that capes were untrustworthy when she'd seen evidence of it herself? And when those under her command were literal children, treating them with kid gloves merely gave them the excuse to expect more of the same when the fact of their powers required that they act with the same level of discipline as any armed adult.

Still, she was fully aware that she had misstepped massively when it came to Flechette and Parian. Had she recalled the conversation with Vista, her conversation with Flechette would have had a different focus. Perhaps not with the same potential level of success, but she felt confident that there still would have been a good chance of convincing Flechette to bring Parian into the fold.

Her reasoning was simple: in her experience, there was no such thing as a useless cape. Every parahuman, everywhere, possessed some means of bringing the fight to the enemy, and to be a known neutral cape in the semi-active war-zone that was Brockton Bay was just asking to be targeted by one faction or another. She'd heard horror stories of Tinkers being literally forced to commit murders as a way of coercing them into one gang or another, or of their loved ones being murdered in turn when they refused to play ball. Was it so bad that she'd tried to save Parian from being forced down that path? Especially since the Empire had apparently been trying exactly that?

Apparently … yes. It was. And thus, the current clusterfuck.

Normally, it would be an odyssey of Sisyphean proportions for Wards to resign at all, much less on such short notice. The PRT regulations had been drawn up to ensure that any such attempt would be as long-winded and painful a process as possible, drawn out into days and weeks of negotiation and counter-proposal, until all the lawyers involved had their pound of flesh and more. But Flechette and Vista had short-circuited the whole affair by using her own words against her. It was a given that both Biron parents would be arriving at the PRT building within the next day or so, fighting for the chance to sign the papers that would forever separate Vista from the Wards, and thus get into their daughter's good books. And Flechette was an adult in her own right, so for her it was already a done deal.

Technically, it was possible that Emily's career would survive the sudden resignation of two effective and capable Wards. She was sure it had happened before, though she couldn't be certain exactly when or where that might have been. Perhaps they would even cut her some slack because of the endless stresses piled on her from the location she was in; her office, after all, covered PRT activities over the entire ENE region of the United States of America. Including the festering cesspit where she actually resided.

Technically, maybe. But she knew deep within the withered, blackened depths of her soul that even if she retained the Directorship after this, her career would be forever blighted. The Powers that Be would take every excuse to cut her out of the decision loop, especially when it came to anything regarding Wards, anywhere, ever. Even her judgement concerning matters within Brockton Bay itself would be scrutinised and second-guessed to a fare-thee-well.

They wouldn't overtly fire her, she suspected, if only because they wouldn't want this sort of thing becoming public knowledge. But the subtle pressure would be on for her to resign, from here on in.

Well, the joke was on them. Renick, as able an administrator as he was, was entirely unsuited to doing the top job. He hadn't wanted it when he was thrust into it before she ever arrived in Brockton Bay, and he still didn't want it. She liked and respected him as much as she did anyone in the building, and that was not something she was about to dump on him.

If they could bring in someone both willing and capable, she'd resign in a heartbeat to enjoy her military pension and health care. But not before then.

At that moment, as though divining her thoughts, her phone rang. She was entirely unsurprised to see the name on the caller ID. "Hello, Director Costa-Brown. I've been expecting your call."

<><>​

Hebert Household

Flechette

Lily could have sworn she was walking on air, from the sheer lightness of her heart. The stress and strain of the last few days had just vanished, thanks entirely to the goodwill and assistance of Vista and Team Samaritan. Not all of it—there was still the issue of the Empire making moves on Sabah. But now she knew exactly what was going on there, and she had a whole team backing her up that was totally willing to deal with that shit.

Exactly how good Team Samaritan were, she'd learned first-hand. The mission to go into ABB territory and lift Oni Lee out from among his loyal minions could've gone so badly, but it hadn't. The basic plan had involved contingencies for foreseeable and unforeseeable circumstances; they'd run it by the numbers, and it had worked.

This, of course, had led them to the understanding that it was the Empire, not the ABB, who had designs on Sabah. Who had thrown a grenade at her, in order to frighten her into seeking refuge within their ranks. Alan Barnes—the whole team, including the Dad Brigade, had unmasked to her after she'd quit the Wards—had introduced her to the term 'false flag operation', which had a long and infamous history. Lily didn't care about the name. She just thought it was a shitty thing to do.

"So how are you feeling?" Athena—Lisa—gave her an understanding grin from the kitchen door. "Still stuck in 'when's the other shoe dropping' mode? I know I was like that for a little bit after I joined."

"It's kind of like that," Lily confessed. "It was like I was facing all bad options, then Missy called you guys in, and all I can think is, 'why didn't I do this earlier'?"

"Because you didn't know you could." Taylor spoke up from where she was sitting on the sofa with Emma and Madison. "I'm not going to say that Director Piggot was deliberately trying to make you think you didn't have anywhere to turn, but …"

"But that's exactly what she was doing," Lisa finished, strolling into the living room with Riley in tow. "Like it or not, in places like Brockton Bay where the villains like to give the impression that they're allowing the heroes to exist because it's too much trouble to exterminate us, it's basically the Wild West all over again. And when that happens, you get cowboys." She and Riley made for the same armchair but neither yielded, so they ended up wedged in side by side.

Lily tried to imagine Director Piggot in a ten-gallon hat and chaps, and failed utterly. "So you're saying she was breaking the rules?"

"Rules?" called out Danny from the kitchen. "In situations like this, rules are for people who fail. If she'd succeeded, there would've been a slap on the wrist and a weasel-worded apology, but Parian would've been inducted into the Protectorate all the same. I've seen it before in other situations. Success excuses a lot of shortcuts."

"Not that you're going to get an apology," Emma advised her. "That would involve them officially admitting that Director Piggot went off the reservation, and thus opening themselves up to all sorts of unpleasant scrutiny. So it'll be like it never happened. Nobody saw nuthin'. And in a few weeks or months, she steps down with minimal fuss, to be replaced by a new face."

Madison cupped her hands in front of her mouth and pretended to blow a trumpet fanfare. "All hail the new boss, same as the old boss."

Lily nodded. "… right. So, assuming the PRT decides to ignore me from now on, where do we go from here? I mean, the Empire tried to pull that shit on Parian. You guys said you had ideas?"

"We do," Emma confirmed. "The first thing we have to acknowledge is that it's essentially suicide to try to match their strengths with our strengths, because even though we've got a lot of variety and some strong hitters, they've got numbers and some power on their side as well."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Since when have we ever tried to attack someone on their strengths?"

"Never." Lisa grinned. "Lily, you remember the Oni Lee grab? Sit tight; that was nothing compared to what the Samaritans are capable of."

"Actually, that's something I've been meaning to ask," Danny said, coming to the kitchen doorway. "Lily, were you intending to join the Samaritans, partner with Parian, or go independent for a while? It's not going to change our plans for the Empire Eighty-Eight, but it'll be good to know your intentions going forward."

Lily blinked. "What, I've got a choice? I mean, I'd love to join, but I thought that was the expectation anyway. It's why I haven't said anything."

"Oh, no, no, no." Madison shook her head. "You're our friend. We helped you out because Missy told us about your problems. And because nobody else was doing anything about Oni Lee, of course. It would be great to have you, but there's no obligation. We're not the PRT, after all. I mean, Emma might look like Director Piggot, but—yipe!"

Emma raised an eyebrow as she retracted the two tendrils of hair back along the sofa. Madison shook her hand back and forth, and stuck her tongue out at her teammate. "No fair."

"Right," drawled Emma, then turned her attention back to Lily. "What she said, more or less. Of course, we know that you're in a relationship with Parian; will it cause tension between you two if you join us, given that you used to date Madison?"

Lily raised her eyebrows as she looked at Madison. "I can't see it being a problem, can you?"

"Not me." Madison shrugged. "We had a nice time, but it's over and done. Hell, if you wanted to bring Parian around to say hi, we could gossip about you behind your back and I could make sure you're treating her right." Her mischievous grin robbed her words of all sting.

The more Lily thought about that, the better it sounded. Besides, she wanted to introduce Sabah to everyone, and get her opinion on whether she should join. (Or rather, get her blessing to join.)

"Okay," she said decisively. "I'm going to do that. So, when do we start planning how we're going to take down the Empire Eighty-Eight?"

Danny fielded that one. "Missy's arranging for the final paperwork signing to cut her loose, and Vicky and Amy are no doubt wowing New Wave with a totally over-the-top version of how you girls grabbed Oni Lee. They'll be over this evening, along with Rod and Alan, and we'll have the brainstorming session then."

"This evening …" Lily considered that. "Would it be okay if I brought Parian around? I'm sure she'll feel a lot better once she knows for certain that something's being done."

"Well, duh," Emma said, before Madison could. "What part of 'we want to meet your girlfriend' have you not actually been picking up on, here?"

Riley raised her hand for attention. "Hey, you know if you join, they're gonna make you do exercise? Like on a track? And shoot at you with paintball guns?"

Lily nodded. "Vista's been telling me about it. She's really enthusiastic. I gotta admit, I'm kinda intrigued, especially seeing the sort of teamwork you guys have got going on here."

"Oh, great," groused Riley, rolling her eyes. "Another exercise nut." Then she squawked and flailed as Lisa wrapped an arm around her neck and applied a noogie to the top of her head.

"Don't worry," Emma advised Lily. "You'll get used to it, then you'll start enjoying it too." She glanced at Taylor and Madison, and all three chorused in a robotic tone, "One of us … one of us …"

Lily shook her head at the horseplay, but she couldn't stop the grin from breaking out over her face at the same time. Even though they could be totally silly from time to time, these were her kind of people.

<><>​

Empire Eighty-Eight Safe House

Kaiser

Victor popped the top off the beer and slammed half of it back in one practised move. He was back in his ordinary clothing, but the Oni Lee mask was still hanging at his belt. Raising his bottle, he clinked it against Max's glass.

Max raised an eyebrow as he took a drink. "I presume from your attitude of cheer that the mission was a success?"

"Goddamn right it was a success," Victor agreed. "Parian and the heroes are totally convinced that the ABB are trying to lean on her. Just a few more nudges, and she'll be open to talking to people who can maybe protect her. Like us." He leaned forward. "Also, get this. Oni Lee's off the board."

"What?" Max blinked. He didn't like being out of the loop like this. "The PRT wouldn't have the manpower or the guts to go into ABB territory like that. Not without taking heavy losses."

"That's true, but I know this much." Victor raised a finger. "Glory Girl dropped him off in the lobby of the PRT building about an hour ago, then flew away without saying a word."

"New Wave took him down?" Max frowned, not at all sure where this was going. "Why wasn't it on the news?"

"It wasn't on the news because it wasn't New Wave." Victor took another hit from his beer. "The whisper is that it was Team Samaritan, finally finishing the job with the ABB."

"Team Samaritan." Max digested the concept. They were a relatively new team on the block, but they'd gone from strength to strength. While they didn't patrol the city regularly, they'd taken on serious hitters—including the Nine, twice—and won handily. The rumour was that Lung had been taken down by the red-headed Striker called Sparx, before the team was even formed.

So far, they hadn't bothered the Empire Eighty-Eight, though while Hookwolf and some of the others considered that to be simple good sense on their part, Max was beginning to wonder if it was more a case of 'we haven't bothered yet'. Certainly, the lightning raid on the Merchants just the previous day had come as a nasty shock to everyone, cleaning up the entire cape contingent in a matter of minutes.

Yes, they were the Merchants; a bunch of drug-addled wannabe villains did not equate to the cream of the Empire. But still … the Merchants had still possessed enough in the way of power that nobody had done this to them before. And now they were all behind bars, and the police were cheerfully mopping up their underlings with zero fear of reprisal.

And today, if Victor's sources were correct, they'd reacted to the staged attack on Parian with swift and accurate force, capturing a teleporter from the middle of his territory before handing him over to the PRT. On the upside, this removed the last obstacle in the Empire Eighty-Eight's way. No other significant cape gangs (aside from Faultline's Crew, and they could be safely ignored) held territory in Brockton Bay; they could expand as far as they liked.

On the downside … Team Samaritan had captured the Merchants and Oni Lee in two consecutive days. At this point, the Empire Eighty-Eight were the biggest hitters on the block. Would Team Samaritan target them next, or would they assume the Empire was too big to be taken off the board? Given previous performance, he wanted to assume the latter … but he couldn't be sure.

"Put all forces on alert," he said. "There's a chance they'll come after us next. If they do, I want to be ready. How many men can you have on the street, armed, by tonight?"

"Guns, about a hundred, maybe a hundred fifty," Victor said at once. "Other weapons, another two hundred."

"Do it." Max considered his options. "See what you can do about acquiring more firearms. A lead pipe isn't going to do much about someone who can fly, or electrocute you from a distance."

"Got it." Victor eyed him with concern. "You really think they'll come after us next?"

Max spread his hands. "Do you see anyone else poised to take over the entire city?"

Slowly, Victor nodded. "I see your point. I'll get the word out, right now."

"You do that." Max leaned back in his chair and sipped at his drink. Team Samaritan were good, he couldn't deny that. But were they good enough to defeat an Empire?

He thought not.

<><>​

Later That Evening
Hebert Household

Panacea

Amy sat on one side of Lisa on the sofa, with Riley on the other. The six chairs had been brought out of the kitchen to seat Taylor, Madison, Vicky, Missy and Danny Hebert, with one spare; being the tallest, Taylor and Danny had both turned theirs around to sit with their arms crossed on the chair backs. Alan Barnes had claimed one of the armchairs, while Emma perched on the arm.

"You know," remarked Danny, looking around the crowded room, "it might not be a bad idea to invest in a base of some sort. This was much easier when it was just you three girls."

"We also had a lot fewer options," Emma noted. "Amy, Missy, Lisa, even Vicky—they've all helped the team out in some way."

"Wow." Vicky rolled her eyes. "Talk about damning with faint praise. 'In some way', hah. I happen to be awesome, thank you very much."

"And that awesomeness is a lot more effective when competently directed, I think we'll all agree," Amy observed with a grin. "Or have you not kicked ass more thoroughly since we started hanging with Team Samaritan?"

Vicky wrinkled her nose. "I'll grant you that it's been easier," she conceded. "A lot less flailing around, a lot more satisfying punching."

Lisa's head came up. "They're here." A moment later, Amy heard the squeak of brakes as Rod Clements' car pulled up on the street.

"I'll get the door," Taylor offered, and jumped up. She headed through to the entrance hall; Amy heard the front door open. "Hi," Taylor said a moment later. "Come on in."

She came back into the living room a moment later, followed by Lily and another girl. Petite and blonde, the newcomer was wearing jeans, a jacket, lace gloves, and a porcelain doll-face mask. Rod Clements followed behind both of them, closing the door as he entered.

Everyone stood up, and Danny stepped forward. "Hello, Parian," he said warmly. "I'm Danny Hebert. You just met my daughter, Taylor." He gestured at the surrounding group, all free of masks. "As Rod probably told you, we talked about it, and decided that unmasking to you was the best policy, so we didn't have to worry about who knew and who didn't. However, you don't have to if you don't want to. It's your identity."

Parian shared a glance with Lily, who nodded encouragingly. Reaching up to the mask, she removed it, revealing that the blonde curls were an attached wig. Amy blinked as she realised that Parian was actually a rather pretty Middle Eastern woman. "Hello, my name is Sabah—"

"Wait, I know you!" exclaimed Madison. "You were with Lily after the dance!"

"Guilty as charged," Lily admitted with a grin. She took Sabah's hand. "I've always been a sucker for a damsel in distress. We've been together ever since."

"And that's fair," Emma agreed. "Hi, Sabah. I'm Emma Barnes and this is my dad. That's Madison, you probably know Amy and Vicky Dallon already, that's Lisa and Riley; and last but definitely not least, that's Missy."

"Don't worry if you forget any names," Madison added. "Feel free to ask. Oh, and we reserved the armchair for you two."

Sabah ducked her head shyly against Lily's shoulder. "It's really nice to meet you all. I wanted to thank you for going after Oni Lee for me, even though Lily says it wasn't him."

"Well, no, it wasn't," Emma said. "But that doesn't matter. He's done enough other stuff. As for the guy who did do it …" She took her seat again on the arm of the chair. "That's what we're here for tonight. To figure out how to explain to the Empire that you just don't do that to people."

"Especially since they're just as likely to get violent with Sabah once they realise she's not the 'right' colour for them either," Lily added, a grim set to her jaw. "So, we need to put an end to this as soon as possible."

Everyone got comfortable again; Rod took his chair, while Lily sat in the armchair and pulled Sabah down to snuggle in her lap. "Okay, then," Alan Barnes said. "Empire Eighty-Eight, from the top. Who wants to lead off?"

"I'll do it," Taylor said. "Kaiser. He can generate iron or steel from hard surfaces to form whatever shapes he wants, and can retract or dismiss it again at will."

"Query." Lisa raised her hand. "How do we know he can retract or dismiss his generated metal?"

"Simple deduction, my dear Watson," Taylor grinned at the look on Lisa's face. "He generates full-body jointed armour to wear into battle. Would you do that if you couldn't get it off again without requiring a pry-bar?"

Lisa put her hand down again. "Fair point. Continue."

Taylor nodded. "He's clearly got an ego, otherwise he wouldn't have called himself an emperor. Charismatic, considers himself a leader of men, but has only a moderate grasp of strategy and tactics at best. Otherwise, his forces would've taken Coil's down long before we did that ourselves."

"A good summary," Rod Clements said. "Next?"

"Purity," Emma began. "She seems to be separated from the team at the moment. Not committing crimes against innocents, but she was hitting ABB places on the regular after we took down Lung. I think maybe she's trying to make the jump to hero, but she's not really communicating it that well. Anyway, energy blasts that can wreck whole city blocks, but if you can get in close she's a glass cannon."

"Good, good." Danny Hebert nodded approvingly. "Krieg?"

Amy listened as Madison reeled off the Empire cape's known abilities, along with potential ways to get around his kinetic-manipulation power. She'd already been aware that Team Samaritan studied villain capes, and had done some study of her own, but it was way cool to be sitting in on a session like this as a veteran of the process. With each new cape whose capabilities and motivations were dissected and examined, Sabah's eyes widened and Lily looked more and more impressed.

Partway through the process, Danny Hebert got up and went into the kitchen. Lisa followed him in there; a little later, they emerged with trays bearing fruit juice and chopped pieces of fruit. Sabah accepted a glass and a piece of apple with a murmur of thanks, but did not take her attention away from the ongoing recital.

Once it was over, Emma giving a potted description of Rune's capabilities, the girls sat back and Danny took the floor again. "Okay, then. Strategies for taking down the Empire?"

Emma glanced at Taylor and Madison and made a couple of gestures. No words were spoken, but Taylor nodded, and Madison made a so-so gesture with her hand. Emma cleared her throat and addressed the gathering. "We're thinking we'd locate them with a flytrap, then start out with a Blind Man's Bluff leading on to Survival of the Unfittest. After we hit what we figure is a good number, we switch to shock and awe and steamroll the rest."

Amy blinked, not at all sure what she'd just heard. Beside her, Lisa let out her breath in an almost soundless oh. Riley, on the other side, frowned in confusion.

Alan Barnes raised an eyebrow. "Honey, suppose you unpack for the rest of us?"

Taylor grinned. "Oh, you're gonna love this."

<><>​

The Boardwalk
Sunday Morning, May 1st, 7:35 AM

Ladybug

The sun had been up for an hour or so, which meant the day was still cool but warming up. Taylor didn't care; she sat on the bench facing out to sea with sunlight on her face. Eyes closed, she leaned back and relaxed, just enjoying the morning.

This was not to say that she wasn't doing other things at the same time. With the network of booster bugs Amy had helped her put into place, she was tapped into the entire seething, humming, living mass of bugs right across Brockton Bay. What they saw, she saw. What they heard, she heard. And sometimes, she acted.

Here, she disrupted a mugging by having a wasp sting the perpetrator's hand and make him drop the knife. There, she flew a bunch of bugs in front of a five-year-old's face to stop her from running into traffic.

She couldn't fix every problem, but she could fix enough of them.

As for the one at hand, she had a bunch of bugs hanging around Parian's stall. Not in a swarm, and not even all the same type of bug. The leaf-bugs Amy had manufactured for the Nine's second showing were among this number, mainly because of their active camouflage ability.

Rod Clements had just stopped by Parian's stall with Madison and Missy in tow, and had purchased a princess doll that bore a striking resemblance to Madison herself. Sabah was really very good at what she did. While the gorilla was still in the process of being fixed, Alan Barnes had donated another stall, and a pugnacious-looking rabbit with boxing gloves was mock-sparring with itself to amuse passers-by.

Lily had wanted to be nearby as well, but they'd managed to persuade her that too many people lingering in that vicinity wouldn't help the sting and may just blow the whole operation. As it was, Taylor's bench was a good hundred yards north of the stall, and she wasn't even looking in the right direction; not that she needed to.

And then a couple stopped by the booth, vaguely matching Sabah's description of the helpful people from the day before. Taylor didn't tense, but a few bugs flew to spots where they could get a better look. A moment later, Sabah tapped her foot in the shave-and-a-haircut tempo they'd agreed on, picked up by the leaf bug currently resting on it. A ladybug landed on her hand briefly to reassure her that the message had been picked up, before flying off again.

At the same time, Taylor sent the signal to everyone else around: Game on.

<><>​

Parian

"Oh, hello! How are you feeling today?"

Sabah's eyes widened fractionally behind her mask as she recognised the couple from the day before. Her heart-rate quickened, but she reminded herself that there were members of Team Samaritan nearby, keeping an eye on her. She belatedly remembered to tap out the tune with her foot as she answered.

"Oh, still a little shaken, but I've decided that I'm not going to let them win." The scripted words sounded horribly wooden in her ears, but the man and woman didn't seem to be suspicious.

Smiling brightly, the woman nodded. "That's the spirit. Though you'd probably be a little safer if you had people watching your back. I mean, you never know if those people are going to come back and attack you again."

"That's true." Sabah nodded, suddenly glad for the full-face mask. There was no way she could keep up this sort of act if they could see her expression. Of course, if they knew she wasn't white, they wouldn't even be trying to recruit her. They'd probably be trying to kill me instead. Not exactly an improvement.

"Say, how much is that doll there?" asked the man. He pointed at one of the several she'd finished; more or less at random, Sabah suspected. Buying something would be intended to endear them to her.

Still, a sale was a sale, and she didn't care if it was Empire money. It would spend just as well as any other cash. She named the price, got the money, handed the doll over, and gave change. All very mundane.

Of course, he then presented it to his companion, who played up the cutesy scene; no doubt for Sabah's benefit. As the woman hugged it to herself, Sabah could tell they were both observing her covertly to spot her reaction. She wanted to stick her fingers down her throat and gag at the saccharine sweetness, but she put a coo in her voice as she thanked the couple.

Once they walked off, she heaved a sigh and sagged back in her chair. She'd known they weren't there to harm her, but to get on her good side. Still, dealing with people like that was nerve-wracking at the best of times.

I am not, she decided, cut out to be a spy.

<><>​

Flechette

"That's it," Emma said, watching the two stink-bugs (Taylor's sense of humour was apparently dubious at the best of times) move away from the large pretty beetle sitting on the matchbook between them on the bench. "They're gone."

Lily drew a huge breath of relief. "I can't believe how casual you're being about this. Right now, if this was a PRT op, the radio channels would be going nuts and there'd be about three cars tailing them."

"Making it about a hundred times as easy to spot," Emma noted. "We've gamed this type of scenario out before, several times. They're working out of our playbook, now. Let's go pick Taylor up and see how she's doing."

Getting up, they went to a vendor and acquired frozen yoghurt, then kept walking. After a couple of minutes, Taylor came into sight, heading in their direction. She accepted the third frozen yoghurt and they stood in companionable silence at the curb eating it until Alan Barnes pulled his car up next to them.

"All good?" he asked as they climbed into the car; Emma in the front, Taylor and Lily in the back.

"Better than I expected, actually," Taylor reported. "They talked in the car. I snuck a booster bug in and got most of their conversation." She produced a notepad, on which was written a series of strange symbols, and passed it forward between the seats. Emma took it and glanced over it, her eyebrows rising by the second.

"Well," she said once she'd taken in whatever the notepad had to say, "operational security is not their strong suit."

"You can read that?" asked Lily. "What language is it?"

Taylor snorted with amusement. "It's secretarial shorthand. I started learning it when I realised I could listen in on entire conversations. I could use a recorder, but that looks weird in public."

Emma cleared her throat. "Him: That went well. I mean, I thought it did. I think she liked it when I gave you the doll.

"Her: I don't know. She seemed nervous to me. Did she seem nervous to you?

"Him: Well, wouldn't you be nervous if someone chucked a grenade at you yesterday?

"Her: True, but she didn't jump all over the idea of having backup like you said she would.

"Him: Give it time. We need her to see us as friendly faces. You can't rush things like this.

"Her: What if she hears that Oni Lee's been captured and decides she doesn't need protection anymore?

"Him: Then a bunch of those mean, nasty, no-good ABB mob her next week and kick her stall down, and maybe give her a kicking, too.

"Her: And what if she joins, then finds out that we're the ones who tuned her up?

"Him: By that time, she'll be known as a member of the Empire. It's not like she'll have anywhere to go.

"Her: I hope you're right. Victor doesn't tolerate mistakes like that.

"Him: Yeah, but jobs like this are why we earn the big bucks. That's where it ends."

Taylor nodded. "That was all they said before one of them turned the radio on."

"Got it," said Alan Barnes. He glanced sideways at Lily. "You okay?"

Belatedly, she realised she'd been sitting forward in her seat, fists clenched. Slowly, she sagged back again. "Yeah ... it's just, when they talk about Sabah like some piece of meat for trade or ownership, I want to go track them down and kick their heads in myself."

"Yeah, I can kinda understand that," Emma said comfortingly. "Remember when I zarked Lung, that first time we met? I thought he'd killed Madison, which was why I went at him so hard. We're allowed to get angry. Just don't let the anger own you."

"And if you do find yourself in the position of putting an end to some well-deserving asshole," offered Alan Barnes from the front seat, "try to make it someone who's already got a kill order. Cuts down on the paperwork considerably."

"Right." Lily decided to submerge her anger in snark. "So, how do I get a kill order declared on Victor, anyway?" It wasn't quite a joke, and she was sure the other three people in the car knew it, but they laughed anyway.

"So yeah, the flytrap worked nicely," Taylor observed. "Each time they meet someone new, I'll put bugs on them, and in a day or so I'll be able to start mapping out a network. By next Saturday, I should have most if not all of the Empire Eighty-Eight's cape roster identified and located. We'll be able to plot their movements in real time, and figure out patterns."

"Identified?" Lily was startled. "You mean, their secret identities?"

Taylor shook her head and laughed. "No, no. If we get really lucky, we might fluke onto an identity or two, but I was talking about how we could determine which of the people we're following is a cape, and which cape they are."

"While they have no idea that we've even got them under surveillance," Emma noted with some satisfaction. "Thus, Blind Man's Bluff."

Lily shook her head slowly. "You know, you guys could be really scary if you tried. Just saying."

Taylor grinned at her, though her tone was almost cartoonishly deadpan. "Fear my skittering minions. Mwahahaha."

"Yeah, not actually helping."

<><>​

Hebert Household Basement

Sparx

Taylor leaned over the map table that had been set up. "And solid identification of Victor … there." Carefully, she placed a token on a particular address. "I've got a booster bug on site, and he's in costume."

"Nice." Emma grinned. "Anyone else there?"

"Not at the moment, not in costume, anyway." Taylor pursed her lips. "You know, technically, we could grab him, but …"

"… but if we do, the others'll go underground so hard they'll pop up in Mexico," Emma finished for her. "Once we've got all of them located, that's when we start picking them off."

"Yup." They shared a high-five.

As they headed upstairs to the kitchen, Emma glanced at Taylor. "So, where's Riley?"

"Oh, Dad took her to Weymouth, along with Lisa and Amy and Missy. Socialising time. It's going well, actually. Riley's really starting to come out of her shell."

Emma grinned. "And I bet Lisa and Amy and Missy are hating the chance to window-shop and just be themselves."

"Hating. Yeah." Taylor smirked. "Let's go with that."

<><>​

Medhall Building
Monday, May 2nd, 2011

Kaiser

With his desk clear, Max picked up his phone and tapped in a specific number. Victor answered promptly, which was good news in itself. "Yes, sir?"

"I'm just checking back with you on the progress you're making with Project P." On the extremely unlikely off-chance that his office was bugged—it was swept on a weekly basis—he made it a rule not to directly allude to illegal business if he could help it.

"Moderately good, sir." Victor sounded pleased with himself. "Cartwright and Hodges reported making contact and beginning the foundations of a rapport. The concept of friendly backup has been raised, though she hasn't responded. I'm thinking we might need to reinforce her feeling of insecurity, next Saturday."

"That sounds like a plan," Max agreed. "I'll leave it in your capable hands. Let me know how it turns out." He ended the call and put the phone down. New recruits were always good to have—the unpowered rank and file liked to see capes backing them up—so he hoped Victor wouldn't take too long to reel Parian all the way in and land her.

As for the other problem—the looming spectre of Team Samaritan—he had to admit that he didn't know what was going on there at all. They hadn't so much as smacked Empire footsoldiers around for light exercise since taking down Oni Lee. Every safe house had stocks of bug spray in case Ladybug decided to send a swarm in to clean out the place, and he was working on installing water sprinklers for dealing with Sparx' taser hair, but even that hadn't been necessary.

Oni Lee had been (in the inimitable phrasing of Hookwolf) a grade-A fucking moronic dingleberry to go strutting around his territory without serious backup. Max wasn't exactly sure how Team Samaritan had extracted him without losing people; hell, he wasn't sure how they'd captured a teleporter and kept him captured. But he was determined that his team would not go the same way.

Taking up his phone, he typed in a text, which he sent to a specific series of numbers.

'Meeting tonight, 1930. Location 3B. Discussion of upgraded security provisions.'

With a tap of his finger, he sent it winging away through the electronic aether, to its various recipients. 'Location 3B' was actually the sub-basement of the Medhall building; the '3' designator was to make it seem less important if the authorities happened to seize someone's phone.

We'll get through this. The Empire Eighty-Eight has been around for more than ten years. Team Samaritan has nothing on us.

<><>​

That Evening

Danny

Taylor's head came up, and she reached for the notepad that sat next to her plate. "Hm. That's interesting."

Lisa looked at her with unfeigned interest, while Riley pretended to pay more attention to her meal. "You can't leave it at that. Spill, o mistress of bugs far and near."

"Well, Victor's spending time with a woman who has to be Othala. Or rather, I found a costume in her closet that looks a lot like Othala's. And someone else came over for dinner. Either a non-cape friend, or maybe Crusader from the age and body type. Definitely not old enough to be Kaiser." Taylor scribbled in the pad as she spoke. "Anyway, they all just got in the same car and they're on the move."

"Are they costumed?" asked Danny. If the Empire was heading out to cause mayhem, it might be worth notifying the PRT operations line. Whatever difficulties they might be having with Director Piggot right now, he liked to think they were all on the same side here.

"Nope. All in civvies." Leaving her plate behind, Taylor got up and headed for the basement door. "I want to see where they're going."

Danny followed along as a matter of course, with Lisa close behind. Riley, for all her professed lack of interest, came down behind them, carrying her plate in one hand and fork in the other. In unguarded moments, she'd been heard to express her appreciation for regular meals and properly cooked food. The way to a person's heart might not be solely via their stomach, but it seemed to be working that way with Riley.

Standing back from the table, Taylor left the marker showing Victor and Othala where it was and put a beetle on the map, crawling over the paper to match the position of the car. Danny grinned as he watched the casual display of power; the villains were being tracked in real-time, to a degree of precision that even modern technology might have trouble matching, and they had no idea.

"And that's how you kept tabs on where we were?" asked Riley, indicating the slowly moving insect. "Just standing back and watching our position on a map from miles away?"

Taylor tilted her hand from side to side. "Not this specific means, but yeah, in a manner of speaking. Inside the school, definitely. Nobody pays attention to bugs, especially if they're camouflaged."

Riley shook her head. "This team is pure BS. Why haven't you taken over the city yet?"

Danny chuckled at that. "If you'd ever spent five minutes in administration, you'd know why not. This place would be a nightmare to organise." He pulled out his phone. "I'm going to let Alan and Rod know what's happening."

"Probably a good idea." Taylor eyed the beetle critically. "I don't know what they're planning on doing, but they're headed into the richer area of Downtown."

When the beetle came to a halt, Danny and Taylor leaned over the table to more closely examine its position. Lisa didn't bother, but her eyes widened anyway. "Shit," she murmured.

"What?" Riley was too short to get a good look at the map, so she gave Lisa an irritated glance. "Where are they? What's so special about that place?"

"Is that right?" asked Danny. "The placement, I mean?"

Taylor nodded soberly. "It is. All three of them just walked in through the back door of the Medhall building. Still in civvies."

Danny summed it up for everyone there. "Well, I'll be damned."



End of Part Thirty-Four

 

[macdjord]

It's always fun watching the bad guys get destroyed by the team of scarily competent little girls.

 

[SlickRCBD]

It's always fun watching the bad guys get destroyed by the team of scarily competent little girls.

Click to shrink...

When you put it that way, I expect somebody to the utter "and we'd have gotten away with it too if it wasn't for you meddling kids!"

 

[Ack]

When you put it that way, I expect somebody to the utter "and we'd have gotten away with it too if it wasn't for you meddling kids!"

Click to shrink...

Assault will say it for them, if nobody else does.

 

[Ack]

One More Trigger

Part Thirty-Five: Option Four

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


Hebert Household, Just a Little Later

Taylor

"Well, we're here. What's the big news?" Mr Clements asked as everyone got settled in their respective chairs.

Vicky and Amy had landed in the backyard just moments before, and even Missy had made it across town in a mad dash to get to the house on time. Only Parian was absent, and that was because her preferred mode of transportation was too slow. However, she'd been contacted, and Lily had promised to fill her in after the fact.

I took a deep breath. "Victor, Othala, and someone I'm pretty sure is Crusader, walked in through the back door of the Medhall building …" I checked the wall clock. "About twenty-five minutes ago."

Instead of the bedlam I'd been half-expecting, the room got very quiet. Lisa and Riley already knew, of course, and while we had our speculations, we were going to wait to air them. Emma and her dad shared glances and looked extremely thoughtful, while Madison started a whispered conversation with her father.

"Did you expect this?" asked Lily. "Because I can only think of a few reasons for that, and none of them are good."

Missy nodded. Vicky and Amy echoed the gesture. "The best case out of all that," Vicky decided, "is if they're robbing the place. Were they in costume?"

"Good question," I said. "No, they weren't. All three were in civvies."

"Well, what's been happening since?" asked Amy.

"And where's Danny?" asked Mr Barnes, looking around.

"Dad took the car out," I said. "I only had a few bugs on Victor and Othala, and there's been a suspicious run over the last few days of bug spray being bought up by individuals with shaven heads, so I'm guessing they're spraying everyone down when they come into meetings. I don't feel like sacrificing booster bugs, so Dad's driving a bunch of leaf bugs over to Medhall. We can't sneak an ear into whatever this gathering is, not at such short notice, but I can sure as hell tag everyone coming out."

"Okay, got it." Emma nodded thoughtfully. "So: thoughts on why three notorious supervillains might be walking in the back door of the Medhall building, late in the evening, in civilian clothing?"

"Attending a meeting of Supervillains Anonymous?" suggested Missy facetiously.

"Can't be," Riley said immediately. "I'd be there."

I chuckled, as did most of the people in the room. Lisa gave Riley a hug. "And me too, squirt."

Amy raised her hand slightly. "Maybe they're moonlighting as low-level employees who've got an after-hours clearance? They might literally be going in there to hang out in the executive break room and drink the expensive booze out of the wet bar."

"We'll put that down as Option One," Mr Clements said, pulling out a notepad and pen. He wrote for a few seconds, then nodded. "So, what's Option Two?"

I'd been thinking about this. "Option Two is that they've somehow got access, and that the Empire Eighty-Eight is using the building to meet in, without the knowledge of the people in charge. Big building, lots of meeting rooms, so on and so forth."

"Using … as … meeting … place …" he muttered, writing assiduously. "And Option Three?"

"Hmm …" Emma mused. "Option Three would be that they're meeting with the full knowledge of the people in charge. Like, they've said, 'we want to meet here' and Max Anders said 'yes, sir' and gave them access."

Madison shook her head. "That's basically Option Two with a few extra steps. Call it Option Two Point Five."

"No, it's still Option Three," her father said. "There are significant differences. Mainly the knowledge, but that does make a difference." He added a few words to his notepad.

"Which makes Option Four …" Lily began, then paused as though trying to fit her head around the concept. "Medhall is run by the Empire Eighty-Eight, and they're meeting in their own building."

Silence fell, with each of us working through the idea in our own way. I'd already been over it several times, but the others were mostly coming at it from a fresh perspective.

Mr Clements looked at me. "You and Danny clearly favour the idea of a full meeting of the Empire, given that he's delivering a bunch of your leaf-bugs there. Everyone else?"

"I think it's Option Four," Riley said, causing all eyes to turn her way.

"So do I," agreed Mr Barnes, "but I'm curious as to your reasoning."

Riley hesitated, but Lisa nudged her and made a subtle go-on gesture. "Kaiser's a proud man, but not just proud. He's toxic about it. He thinks he's smarter than everyone, and he's a control freak." She paused again, briefly. "I've … had experience with that kind of mindset."

I knew what she was talking about. Jack Slash had definitely been a proud man, and toxic with it.

"So how does that equate to Option Four, and none of the others?" asked Vicky curiously.

Riley took a deep breath. "It's not Option One. If they were low-level employees in Medhall, they're there for a reason. Kaiser would never let them risk firing or arrest by sneaking in after hours. And it's not Option Two, because Kaiser would never lower himself to sneaking into someone else's premises just to hold a gang meeting. That's what abandoned warehouses are for." She paused and looked around. "Does anyone disagree so far?"

"Nope," Lily said. "You're hitting the nail on the head as far as I can tell."

Riley smiled. "Good. Option Three … no. There's too much chance of the Medhall people getting sick of him ordering them around and dropping a dime on him. He wouldn't open himself up like that. The only way he'd have his people meeting in the Medhall building is if he either owned it or had a controlling interest, and could access security footage at any time to delete anything suspicious. In other words, Option Four."

"In other words …" Amy echoed. "You're saying that Kaiser is Max Anders."

Lisa, grinning as smugly as I'd ever seen her, held up her hand and snapped her fingers. "And the frizzy-haired brunette in the second row wins the grand prize."

Missy looked startled. "What, really? I spoke to him at a fundraiser last year! He congratulated me on holding my own as a Ward, and shook my hand! He was nice!"

"Probably because you were a blonde white cape," Emma interjected cynically. "I've been reading up on how people can get sucked into cults and gangs. Before you joined us, you were feeling less than fully appreciated as a Ward, yeah? He could probably spot that, and was laying the groundwork for maybe recruiting you if you ever showed bigoted tendencies."

Missy's eyes narrowed. "Motherfucker."

"Language!" scolded Riley.

I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing. Emma and Madison joined in, and Vicky and Amy were grinning too.

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey." Mr Barnes put his hands up for quiet. He was smiling as well, but he nodded toward the now embarrassed-looking Riley. "It seems that one of you has manners. Well said, young lady."

"Wait a minute." Vicky had lost her grin. "I remember that fundraiser. He spent time talking to me, too, about combating the local drug dealers. Mainly focusing on the Merchants and the ABB. Was he trying to recruit me, too?"

"There's a good chance of it," Lisa confirmed. "At the very least, he was sounding you out as a future prospect, seeing what your personal views were regarding minorities."

Vicky gritted her teeth. "Son of a …" She didn't finish the phrase, but we all knew what she meant.

"I can assume he wouldn't have tried recruiting me, then?" snarked Lily.

"No, but Lung might have," Lisa noted. "If Emma hadn't lit him up like a Christmas tree, that is."

Emma put her hand up. "Just so everyone knows, he totally deserved it. I thought he'd killed Mads."

Missy shrugged. "You had me at 'he totally deserved it'."

This time, everyone chuckled.

<><>​

Across Town

Danny

Cruising through the late evening traffic, Danny tried to look totally normal. Nothing to see here, just another suburban dad out for a drive. The traffic wasn't too bad for a Monday night; not so heavy that he couldn't get into the lane he wanted, not so light that he was the only car on the road.

The passenger-side window was cracked open a few inches for airflow, though the door was locked. Danny had never been carjacked, and he didn't want to ever experience it. Taylor would be on it immediately, but it would be so goddamn tedious to get it all sorted out.

The leaf-bugs, as well as a few spare booster bugs, were all crowded on the ceiling and door pillars of the passenger side of the car. Danny was glad he had no particular aversion to bugs, because that would've given anyone even slightly entomophobic the screaming heebie-jeebies. Up ahead was the Medhall building, lights on here and there. Unfortunately, even with binoculars, he wouldn't have been able to tell which lights were security measures and which were evidence of people in the building.

"Get ready," he said, even as he began slowing down for the lights. In response to this, the bugs started flowing out of the car onto the exterior, moving in unison so smoothly and easily that he would've missed it if he wasn't looking.

By the time he pulled up at the lights, the entire passenger side of the car was covered with leaf-bugs, all flattened to the paintwork and emulating the colour of the car. The few booster bugs were lurking in the corners of the windows, pretending that nothing was amiss. Checking his mirrors, he could see that the drivers around him were immersed in their own little worlds, with their own issues to deal with.

When the cross-street lights turned red, he counted aloud for the benefit of the booster bug sitting in the window gap. "Three … two … one …"

The lights ahead turned green; he let out the clutch and applied gentle acceleration, and the car moved off. At the same time, the bugs abandoned ship, flying down and to the side to get out of the headlights of the following car. He knew they'd head straight to the Medhall building and surround it on all sides, locating every exit. It was all up to Taylor now.

He knew the rest of the team would be at the house by now, talking over what they already knew, so it was time to get back. But first, he decided, he'd stop at a gas station and top up the tank. And maybe buy some snacks for the gathering. Plans were made more readily on a full stomach.

<><>​

Ladybug

"Dad's dropped off the bugs and he's on his way back," I reported. "I've just put leaf-bugs, and a booster bug, on every car in that parking lot, and more leaf-bugs on every exit I can find."

Lily tilted her head. "Remind me what the leaf-bugs are again? I don't know if I got filled in on those."

"These," I said, holding up my hand as a leaf-bug fluttered to it. It landed, flattened to my palm, and activated the chameleon effect, fading almost totally out of view. "Also, they can ignore bug spray if they have to. Amy made them up when the Nine started spamming pyrethrin everywhere to counter me."

"I still say that totally wasn't fair," Riley said, but it sounded like she was just saying it because she thought it was expected.

"All's fair in love and war, munchkin." Lisa gave her a light noogie, then addressed the room. "So, we've figured out that Max Anders is none other than the biggest neo-Nazi in town. Medhall is no doubt Empire Central. What are we going to do about this?"

Madison flicked a few fingers to get everyone's attention. "Once this meeting's over, they'll go their separate ways, yeah? And we already know Crusader came to Victor and Othala's house alone. I say we should kick off Survival of the Unfittest tonight."

Silence fell for a few moments. "You think we should grab Crusader after he leaves to go back to his place," I said carefully.

"Totally." Madison grinned. "We disappear him. They'll have no idea where he is, until he shows up in PRT custody."

"I like it." Emma frowned thoughtfully. "Though we could expand our sights a little. I'm pretty sure we could take all three at once. None of them are big hitters, but Othala at least is a definite force multiplier."

"I'm not saying yes and I'm not saying no." Mr Barnes ran his thumbnail over his lips. "However, this is very short notice. We're going to need to have a plan, with backups and alternatives, before we walk out that door."

Emma glanced at me and Madison, then nodded. "Absolutely. How's this for a idea …"

<><>​

Danny

The radio was playing soft music from yesteryear and Danny was relaxed behind the wheel on the way back to the house, when a dozen fireflies fluttered out of hiding and lined up on the windshield. Blinking in sequence, they indicated a left-hand turn. He frowned, wondering what was going on, but followed their lead.

"I'm assuming something's come up?" he asked out loud.

The fireflies rapidly reassembled themselves into a plus sign and flashed once; he took it as 'affirmative'. Then they lined up to indicate another turn and flashed in sequence.

"Is it something urgent, or something that we just want to do?" It had to be one or the other, considering the fact that they hadn't waited for him to come back to the house.

Two vertical lines indicated that it was the second choice. He was okay with that; the team's operating structure emphasised the option of making good decisions even when not everyone was available for an opinion. Following the directions given by the fireflies, he drove through the streets toward an unknown destination.

<><>​

Taylor

We were just getting organised when Dad drove up and parked behind the other two cars. He got out and looked us over, no doubt noting our lack of costuming. "I'm interested in what's going on here."

"Emma had a great idea." I grinned broadly. "Triple grab."

He blinked, and I saw him assimilating the concept. "Victor, Othala and Crusader?"

Mr Barnes nodded. "Bingo. Even if he rides home with someone else—unlikely, because his car's at their place—we'll get two at least, but three will be better."

"That math checks out, yes." Dad turned to Emma. "Brief me."

"Okay, so this is a nice quiet straight stretch of road." She gestured up and down the street. "Madison's been bringing air through here and making it leave its moisture behind in a sixty-foot-long block of the road." Madison had been practising a lot with altering the specific content of any given volume of air with her aerokinetic abilities.

He frowned. "Raising the dew point? Making the road slippery?"

"Yes to the first, no to the second. She's keeping all that humidity just off the ground. We want to stop them, not kill them."

"Speak for yourself," muttered Lily. "Victor threw a grenade at Sabah."

"We've talked about this," Mr Clements reminded her in a matter-of-fact tone. "I know you're angry at Victor, and you're totally justified in feeling that anger, but please, do not let it control you."

"They're coming," I reported as the bugs in their car crossed an imaginary line in my visualisation of the entire city. "One minute out. Three in the car."

Lily sighed. "I just wish I could punch his stupid face in, one time."

"Positions," Mr Barnes said.

As we'd practiced so many times before, we jumped back into the cars. Because Dad's car was there, we didn't have to cram in like we'd had to on the way out. Dad still needed briefing, and Emma and Lisa weren't integral to the plan, so they got into his car. I was in Mr Barnes' car, along with Lily, Madison and Missy.

"Fifteen seconds," Lily said, once we were settled. Her innate sense of timing was very useful.

"Good," said Mr Barnes. "Madison … mark."

<><>​

Aerodyne

"On it." Madison concentrated.

Having the natural breeze dump all its moisture in the one specific bounded area wasn't all that difficult—water droplets were relatively easy to nudge around with air molecules due to their size—but this next trick would be a little more strenuous.

Fixing the entire volume in her mind, she made sure the water droplets wouldn't go anywhere, while pulling a certain fraction of the air out and not letting any more rush in. The air pressure dropped; physics took a hand then, and the temperature reduced as well. More physics happened, and the heretofore-invisible humidity in the air condensed into fog.

"And … now," said Taylor.

As though prompted by her words, the headlights of a car turned the corner and approached them from behind, vaguely illuminating the interior of the vehicle. As it came up to the fog, the headlights changed hue to fog beams and the car slowed.

"Missy, you're up," said Mr Barnes.

<><>​

Vista

Missy took a moment to thank her lucky stars for being assigned as the team liaison, even if Director Piggot had had other ideas on how it should work. Pulling off this sort of thing never happened in the Wards. Then she got down to business.

Starting just inside the fog so that the people in the oncoming vehicle wouldn't see it happening, she took hold of the section of road (and the air above it) and stretched it massively, increasing its length by a factor of a hundred or so. A moment later, the car entered the zone of stretching. From the outside, it looked weird; she couldn't see the car itself, but the headlight beams were oddly truncated and they were travelling at somewhat less than walking pace. While the car would normally have been through in just a second or so, now they had half a mile of fog to drive through.

They'd worked on a concept called the Escher Snare, where she could trap someone within twisted space and make it virtually impossible for them to get back to normal terrain, but it was hard to keep them in if they had external visibility. Taking that away with darkness and fog allowed the Snare to work much better.

"Stopping the car now," she said out loud.

Maintaining the volume of air with the fog in it wasn't as intensive as setting it up, so now she had the wherewithal to spring the next part of the trap. Concentrating carbon dioxide in front of the slowly moving car, she fed it into the air intake for the engine. The result was entirely predictable; starved of oxygen, the engine sputtered and choked, then cut out altogether.

Having gone barely twenty feet into the fog, it rolled to a halt at the side of the road, just up ahead of them. The driver's side door opened, and an ordinary-looking man got out.

Missy looked at Taylor. "Tag, you're it."

<><>​

Ladybug

"Way ahead of you, o mistress of space and time." I'd had six ketamine bugs perched on top of the car, and they were flying forward from the moment the car began to roll off to the side of the road.

Two bugs headed for Victor—the booster bug in the car had visually identified him when he got back out of the meeting, though we still didn't know who he was—while four more buzzed into the car and homed in on the passengers. In each case, one hung back while the other went in for the sting.

The fact that six bugs were incoming at once must have alerted him on some unconscious level, because he slapped his neck before the first bug was properly able to start its injection of the ketamine/batrachotoxin mix. I zipped the second one in and gave him a full dose on the other side before he could react. His head came up and he began to turn, while his hand darted into his jacket for (I figured) either a gun or a phone.

Almost at the same time, Othala and Crusader each got a solid dose of the same substance. They started struggling to get their seatbelts off and Crusader popped out a couple of ghosts, but then the ketamine took effect and they slumped down again. Victor took a half-dose from a second bug, which overwhelmed his resistance. He face-planted in the asphalt with his hand still in his jacket.

We got out of the cars, and I headed over to Victor with Amy in tow. She made sure that he'd stay asleep, then Vicky stepped in and picked him up. "Do me a favour and open the door for me?" she asked Lily.

"So, what's the endgame?" Dad asked as Amy and I went around to the other side of the car. "If it comes out that we're the ones who grabbed them, the rest of the Empire is more likely than ever to come after us."

"The next bit was Amy's idea," I said. "She says she had it because of all the accident cases she's had to deal with in the hospital."

Using a handkerchief, Amy opened the passenger side doors and put Othala and Crusader well under, then hooked out Crusader's wallet and showed me his driver's license. I took note of his home address and called it up on my phone, then took personal control of the bugs within that location. It only took me a minute or so to do a sweep of the apartment, and I smiled.

In the meantime, Vicky and Lily finally got Victor into the car. It seemed he was prone to bumping his head on the door-frame, but nobody would notice. Probably.

"Got him," I said as I headed back to the car. "Either he's a Crusader fanboy or he's the genuine article, because he's got a full costume stashed away there, plus a spare. Also, what I'm pretty sure is a Confederate flag, hanging on the wall."

Mr Clements nodded. "Which means stage two is a go."

"I hadn't been filled in on stage two yet," Dad said. "I get the impression that it's sneaky, but I have no idea what it actually is."

"Oh, it's sneaky alright," Riley said. "In fact, it's downright evil, and that's coming from me."

Lisa chuckled. "You're gonna love it."

<><>​

The PRT Building, About Two Hours Later

Deputy Director Renick

Paul was looking over the latest projections on crime figures following the capture of Oni Lee, when there was a knock on his office door. Looking up, he frowned. There were no appointments scheduled for this time of the evening, which meant this was out of the ordinary.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened and the PRT duty officer, a Lieutenant Harrison, leaned in through the doorway. "Sir," he said, with a hint of ill-concealed glee in his voice. "There's been a development with the Empire Eighty-Eight."

That was a phrase that nobody should ever be happy about, so Paul was immediately intrigued. "What kind of development?"

"Five minutes ago, a car rammed the security bollards outside the building. When we investigated, there were three capes in the vehicle, all costumed and drunk off their heads. Victor, Othala and Crusader. They're unharmed, but they'll be sleeping off the alcohol for quite some time."

Paul stared at him. "Wait. Go through that again. You're saying that three Empire Eighty-Eight capes attempted a drunken ram-raid on our building, without backup? Are we even sure that they're actually the capes they're costumed as?"

"That's a good point, sir, and one that we've taken into account. Right now, we're holding them on suspicion, until we can get them under an MRI. But Sergeant Prower's faced Victor and Crusader before, and he swears blind that it's them."

"I see." Paul's mind spun as he tried to work out the series of events that would lead three Empire capes—not the big hitters by any stretch, but definitely formidable in their own right—to drink themselves into near-insensibility and then crash a car in the one location that would lead to their immediate arrest and incarceration. Pulling himself out of that rabbit-hole by his bootstraps, he asked himself a far more pressing question: what would Emily do?

The answer was brief and to the point. She wouldn't ask dumbass questions. She'd secure them first and ask questions later.

"Any orders, sir?" asked Harrison.

"No orders, no. But do we have facilities that can hold them? Especially Crusader?" He had a mental image of murderous ghosts roaming the building, killing everyone they came across.

Lieutenant Harrison nodded. "Director Piggot had orders in place for if we ever captured him. His ghosts always mimic what he's wearing and carrying, so he's been disarmed and stripped of his armour. There's padding strapped to his hands and feet, his arms and legs are fastened together, and he's chained to his bed. Also, he's got a blindfold strapped to his head. If he does send ghosts out, they won't be able to see or hurt anyone. And if it turns out that he can ignore things that are attached to him, he also has taser prongs strapped to his body."

"Understood." Paul hesitated. "I have one order. This needs to be kept under wraps until definitive proof has been located, one way or the other. Tightest security, need to know only. If it's them, we want to keep the Empire guessing for as long as possible; if it's not, we don't want to look stupid by making claims we can't back up. Also, I want bomb disposal looking that car over, immediately."

"Copy that, sir."

"Dismissed, Lieutenant. And well done."

"Thank you, sir."

Lieutenant Harrison vanished and the door closed behind him, leaving Paul to lean back in his chair, pondering the bizarre turn of events. What were the odds? He couldn't even begin to calculate them; it had literally never happened before.

A few minutes later, he sat straight up again, and made a call.

"Duty officer, Lieutenant Harrison speaking. How may I help you, sir?"

Paul took a deep breath. "It's crossed my mind that the events you spoke to me about may be part of an elaborate Trojan scheme. Bulk up exterior security on all points, and have the guards do regular eyeball checks on all prisoners instead of depending on cameras."

Harrison didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Don't hesitate to call me if anything unusual starts to happen."

"Roger that, sir."

Paul ended the call and sat back in his chair. Victor, Othala and Crusader weren't as dangerous or as momentous a capture as Hookwolf or Purity would be, but their loss would be a distinct blow to the Empire all the same. Now, if only I could figure out why they all chose to go on a drunken bender on the same night.

He suspected he'd only learn the answer to that conundrum when Emily had them interrogated following their return to sobriety.

<><>​

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Kaiser

Max was partway through reading an evaluation report when his phone rang. The name that showed up in the Caller ID field alerted him to the fact that Hookwolf was on the line. That meant Empire business.

Putting down the report, he took up the phone. "Yes?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, you heard from Justin since last night? We were going to meet up this morning and go do a thing, but I haven't seen hide nor hair."

The phrase 'go do a thing' indicated that they'd been planning some kind of cape-related shenanigans, but Kaiser wasn't worried about that. Hookwolf was big enough and ugly enough to take care of himself and Crusader both. It was a little strange that the young man had flaked on an appointment with Bradley; by all accounts, the two had a rapport.

"I presume you tried his landline?" It was the first thing he thought of. If Justin had let his phone go flat, or lost it somewhere, his home phone would still work just fine.

"That and his cell. Left messages on both of 'em. Nada."

"Well, that's a problem." If Crusader was unavailable to Hookwolf, it meant he was just plain unavailable. "Wait a minute. Last night, he said he got a lift with Alex and Diane. He might've stayed at their place if his car wouldn't start. I'll give them a call now, and give him a piece of my mind about not having his cell on him at all times."

"Okay, yeah. Appreciate it."

Max ended the call, then accessed Victor's number. The man always answered by the third ring, even when he was in the shower. Not this time; it just rang and rang.

After ten rings, he ended the call then rang Othala's cell. It did exactly the same thing, the ringtone repeating over and over until he ended that call too. Just to check, he tried Crusader's cell, with exactly the same result as the other two.

A tiny worm of worry started twisting and turning in his gut. He took a few moments to find Victor's landline, and call that number. It also rang out. The worry was more pronounced as he accessed Krieg's number. This time, it only took one ring for the phone to be answered.

"Designated Solutions, James Fliescher speaking. How may I help you, Mr Anders?"

"Justin's not answering his cell," Max said briskly, "and neither are Alex and Diane. Would you have any idea why?"

There was a pause on the other end, one that Max judged was long enough for a puzzled thought process to go through. "No. I have no idea. Do you think something has happened to them?"

"I don't know yet. Reach out to the others in the social group. Make sure they're all well. Don't worry about Bradley; he's the one who called me about Justin."

"Understood. I will keep you posted." Krieg ended the call, leaving Max to lean back in his chair and try to unravel the problem in his own head. Unfortunately, he was remarkably devoid of clues.

Eventually, he called Bradley back. "There's more of a problem than we thought. Alex and Diane aren't answering either."

"Shit. That is a problem."

He didn't bother agreeing with the highly obvious statement. "James is checking on everyone else. Do a drive-past on their place, see whose cars are parked outside. Then check Justin's."

"I'll get right on that."

"Let me know what you find out." Max ended the call, frowning.

Empire capes had vanished before, but they were invariably new recruits who had decided they weren't cut out for the life—the politest term Hookwolf called them was 'weaksauce'—and skipped town in the middle of the night. But even though Crusader wasn't yet twenty-one, he was as dedicated to the cause as anyone in the Empire, and the idea that Victor or Othala might be having second thoughts was simply ludicrous. Which meant that something else was going on.

What it was, though, was a mystery to him. No cape battles had been reported by the news services, and PHO was making no mention of the PRT having captured any Empire capes overnight. Besides, the understanding had been that everyone would go home and have a quiet night in before resuming business as normal in the morning.

I don't know what this is, but I don't like it. Not one little bit.

<><>​

Around That Time; the PRT Building

Miss Militia

Hannah scanned the report of the previous night's apprehension of the Empire Eighty-Eight capes. Her eyebrows raised as she absorbed the information. "Drunk, in costume, driving a civilian car? Crashing into the bollards outside the building? Really?"

"That's what we've got to go on with," Director Piggot told her. "I agree; about the only way to make it easier to apprehend them would've been to call ahead to warn us they were coming, but they were definitely handed to us on a silver platter all the same."

Hannah pursed her lips under the bandanna. "Has the car been checked over?"

"With a fine-tooth comb." The Director shrugged. "Nothing. We even analysed the glove compartment lint, and it was nothing out of the ordinary. Deputy Director Renick put everyone on high alert last night, just in case, but it turned out to not be some kind of elaborate trap."

"And the MRIs came back positive." Hannah was looking at the section of the report showing the medical results.

"They did. The people we have in custody have active corona pollentias. They are capes. All the evidence we have indicates that they are who we've been led to believe they are." Director Piggot gave Hannah a tight-lipped smile. "All I need now is their side of the story. Because I really, truly want to hear their explanation for how they got to where we found them."

Hannah nodded. "I'll do what I can." She'd heard what Piggot hadn't said: It won't change the outcome, but I could do with a good laugh.

She took the report with her, as much for use as a prop as for reference, and entered the interrogation room. Already handcuffed to the table there was Othala, wearing prison orange instead of her bright red costume, though she'd been allowed to keep her eyepatch. She glared at Hannah as the latter seated herself, the current weapon an M1911 holstered at her hip.

Despite having an instinctive knowledge of how to use every weapon she could generate, Hannah had undergone sniper training, because there was more to putting steel on target than just shooting straight. She'd learned patience, stillness, and the ability to fade into the background until people almost forgot she was there.

If she spoke immediately, she knew Othala would shut down and refuse to interact. So instead, she reached into that skill, settling down to out-wait the other woman. Her breathing became deep and regular, as measured as a metronome. As Othala became more and more agitated, Hannah stilled her own reactions.

It took Othala less than three minutes to crack. "This is fucking bullshit!" she burst out.

"Have you been Mirandised?" asked Hannah.

"I've got no idea why I'm even—" Othala paused, taken aback by the question. "What?"

"Have you been read your rights yet?" Using two fingers, Hannah dropped a Miranda card on the table. Othala stared at it like a chicken hypnotised by a snake.

After blinking a few times, Othala apparently decided to brazen it out. "Wh-why would I need you to read my rights? I haven't done anything wrong."

"I'm just looking out for your best interests," Hannah said, deadpan. "Everyone's heard stories about people talking themselves into prison terms, right? If you haven't had your rights read to you, I can do it now."

From the way Othala's eye shifted, she'd definitely heard the stories. She visibly wavered back and forth between defiance and accepting Hannah's very reasonable offer, and finally settled on common sense. "Okay, fine," she huffed. "You're already treating me like I'm guilty. You might as well read me my rights. Even though I've got no idea what I'm supposed to have done."

"Good thinking. Better safe than sorry, and all that." Hannah took up the card, although she'd already memorised its contents. "You have the right to remain silent. If you choose to give up that right, anything you say can and will be taken down …"

Othala sat quietly through the reading, visibly trying to put up a brave front, though Hannah could see the way she was biting her lip. With each carefully enunciated line, the tension in Othala's jaw ratcheted up a notch. Hannah pretended not to see it, and she very carefully did not allow the smile she felt to cross her lips. Even though she had a bandanna across her face, it would still be visible to those who were looking hard enough, and she didn't want to risk Othala being just perceptive enough to notice.

Once she'd finished, she put the card down again. "Do you understand your rights as I have read them to you?"

Othala nodded jerkily. "Um, yes, but I still don't know what's going on. Am I under arrest? What happened? Why am I here? How did I get here? Where's my husband? Why are you reading me my rights? What am I supposed to have done?"

As Hannah had expected, reading Othala her rights had given her the chance to regather her thoughts and muster her defiance. This was all part of the plan; resistance couldn't be broken unless it was first brought into play. The whole idea was to set her up before knocking her down.

Hannah slid the card back into her pocket. "Okay, now we've got that sorted out, do you wish to exercise the right to be silent?"

She knew she'd hit the right note when Othala shook her head. "No! I want to know what's going on here! Where's my husband? Why am I under arrest? What am I charged with?"

"Alright then." Hannah leaned forward. "Diane Grayson … that's your name, right? At least, that's what your ID says." Opening the folder, she slid Othala's driver's license onto the table.

"Yeah, that's me." Othala did her best to give Hannah an intimidating glare. "So, answer my questions already."

"Diane Grayson," Hannah said formally. "You are under arrest for underage drinking, aiding and abetting in the attempted destruction of government property, and multiple crimes all connected to your activities as the supervillain Othala, including but not limited to felony murder, hate crimes and grand larceny. Your husband and your friend Justin are also in custody. We know your husband is Victor, and that Justin is Crusader, and they will be charged accordingly, except for the underage drinking."

"No." Othala shook her head frantically in a blatant attempt to hide her incipient panic. "That's bullshit! That's not true at all! I'm not Othala! Why would you even think that?" She paused. "Wait, underage drinking? Is that why I felt like shit when I woke up?"

Hannah nodded. "Tests gave you a zero point one blood alcohol content after we pulled you out of your husband's car. Crusader was on zero point one three, and your husband was on zero point one seven. Would you like to tell me why you chose to get drunk on your husband's bourbon and go cruising around town in full costume?"

Othala stared at her. "We did what?"

Hannah judged that she wasn't faking her disbelief, but didn't actually care. "Drove drunk, in full costume, then rammed the car into the barricades in front of this very building, apparently in an attempt to crash into the lobby."

She opened the folder and slid the photos out onto the table. They were screenshots of bodycam footage, and showed all three villains being hauled out of the wrecked car by armoured troopers. It was clear from the imagery that they were utterly wasted. The one of Othala vomiting into the gutter was particularly evocative.

"That's not me!" Othala's claim was as reflexive as it was pointless. "That's not us!"

Hannah allowed a steely note to creep into her voice. "I assure you, we can prove an unbroken chain of custody from the moment we pulled you out of the car to right now. The car is registered in your husband's name. And when we fingerprinted you, they matched the ones taken back when you went for that joyride with your friends at age fourteen. The people in those pictures are you and your friends." She paused. "What I'm curious about—what we're all curious about—is why you got drunk and went driving around in costume. What were you celebrating? The capture of Oni Lee? I mean, I can totally understand. Even as villains go, he's pretty scummy."

"No! I mean yes, he's a total asshole, but we hadn't been drinking. We were just driving back home from seeing friends. We weren't—I mean, I have no idea where those stupid costumes came from, or who put them on us."

Again, Hannah suspected the villain was being genuine about the confusion. Unfortunately for Othala, she still didn't care. "Well, that's interesting. We got a warrant earlier this morning, and we searched your homes … and found your spare costumes, along with enough evidence to identify you and your husband as members of the Empire Eighty-Eight several times over. Crusader is in much the same boat. So, what were you meeting with the rest of the Empire Eighty-Eight about?"

"Nothing," Othala said quickly, in exactly the tone of voice that meant 'something'. "I mean, we were seeing friends, not the Empire Eighty-Eight. And I don't know about any costumes. For all I know, you planted them."

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Then you wouldn't mind giving me the names and phone numbers of the friends you were seeing, and you can guarantee they'd verify that you came over to meet them last night? And be able to tell me what you talked about?"

Finally, Othala saw the pitfall yawning in front of her, and behind as well. "I … uh, I want to exercise my right to be silent now. Also, I want a lawyer. And my phone call. You have to give me a phone call. It's the law."

"We can do all that, certainly." Hannah stood up and slid the photos back into the folder. "But think about this while you're sitting silently in your cell, waiting for us to arrange your lawyer and your phone call. Victor and Crusader have worse crimes against their names than you do. They're almost certainly going to ask for plea bargains, and that will involve testifying against other members of the Empire Eighty-Eight. Think about what Crusader's got on you, what he could prove against you." She walked to the door, then stopped and turned back with her hand on the handle. "The way this sort of thing works, whoever gets in first is the one who gets the deal. Everyone else is shit out of luck. Right now, you have a very narrow window of opportunity, and it's getting smaller by the second."

"I keep telling you, you've got the wrong people," Othala insisted, apparently forgetting her choice to stay silent. "I'm not Othala."

"So you say." Hannah tilted her head toward the door. "I'm going to speak with Crusader now. Let's see what he has to say about all this." With that, she opened the door and walked out, closing it behind her.

Director Piggot met her a little way down the corridor. "Think she'll cave?"

Hannah waggled her hand. "Seventy-thirty. She looked pretty worried a couple of times there, and if we can let her stew in her own juices for just a little longer, her lawyer will probably be able to convince her to take whatever plea-bargain the DA offers her. If she's smart."

The Director snorted and looked at the closed door of the interrogation room. "If."

"True."



End of Part Thirty-Five

 

[Zackarix]

I wonder why Othala is the one they're leaning on to testify against the others. Do they think she's the least dangerous? Most sympathetic? Most useful powers if she flipped? Or is she just the one with the lowest amount of hate crimes to her name?

And was Rune living with Victor and Othala in this fic? If so her identity is probably gonna be revealed in short order. Which is another angle that could be used against Othala: cooperate and you might be able to negotiate a favorable deal for your young family member in addition to getting one for yourself.

 

[macdjord]

I wonder why Othala is the one they're leaning on to testify against the others. Do they think she's the least dangerous? Most sympathetic? Most useful powers if she flipped? Or is she just the one with the lowest amount of hate crimes to her name?

Click to shrink...

Easiest to break, I suspect.

 

[Ack]

I wonder why Othala is the one they're leaning on to testify against the others. Do they think she's the least dangerous? Most sympathetic? Most useful powers if she flipped? Or is she just the one with the lowest amount of hate crimes to her name?

And was Rune living with Victor and Othala in this fic? If so her identity is probably gonna be revealed in short order. Which is another angle that could be used against Othala: cooperate and you might be able to negotiate a favorable deal for your young family member in addition to getting one for yourself.

Click to shrink...

Easiest to break, I suspect.

Click to shrink...

Least hardened, youngest, most easily intimidated, lowest risk (Crusader is a problem for face to face interrogation), and best chance of getting to break (Victor would of course be loaded down with counter-interrogation skills).

 

[Ack]

One More Trigger

Part Thirty-Six: Drilling Down

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

[A/N 2: There will be slurs by a racist character. These views do not reflect my own.]



Othala

Diane Grayson sat in the interrogation room, entirely ignoring the fact that she was handcuffed to the table. She didn't even care that there were almost certainly people watching her from behind the large mirror set into the wall across from her, or that the eyepatch she wore was the one she customarily sported in her villain persona, with the odal rune in red on the white leather. Miss Militia's words bounced around inside her skull, disarranging her thoughts until she couldn't string one to another.

Think about what Crusader's got on you, what he could prove against you. The way this sort of thing works, whoever gets in first is the one who gets the deal. Everyone else is shit out of luck.

She'd mustered the strength to deny her supervillain identity yet again—surely if she said it enough, they'd have to at least start doubting—but then the hero had left her with the most chilling statement of all.

I'm going to speak with Crusader now. Let's see what he has to say about all this.

She knew damn well Alex wouldn't say a word against her. That wasn't just a belief on her part, it was an article of faith. This was the sort of situation where he didn't just hold his own, but actively thrived.

But Miss Militia hadn't said jack about him. For a sand nigger, she was pretty damn bright. Justin was the weak link in the chain, and she knew it. Worse, he had history for this sort of thing.

Once upon a time, when they'd been sitting and waiting for a meeting to start, he'd shared his trigger event with them. He'd had a retarded sister, both physically and mentally, with health problems so bad that she required some kind of unspecified organ transplants to stay alive. As her brother, he was the closest genetic match, and he hadn't been really given a choice in the matter.

He'd tried to end both their problems by literally pulling the plug on her, but he'd been caught and in the ensuing round of accusations and guilt trips, he'd gotten powers. While he never talked about what happened after that, she had all the information she needed. When the going gets tough, he discards anyone he feels is holding him back, even family.

Right now, she was squarely in those crosshairs, complete with an itchy feeling right between her shoulderblades. For all that they'd been teammates for years and had each other's backs a hundred times, they'd never been in this specific situation. Just like her, he would be staring down the barrel of a prison sentence; even more so than her, because while she'd only ever been strictly support, he'd played an active role in every crime he'd been a part of.

She could even imagine Miss Militia's strategy with him. Looking at him out of a video screen (because only the terminally moronic would go face to face with someone they believed was Crusader if they didn't have to) she'd probably say something along the lines of, Victor and Othala are a married couple. They'll support each other, and throw you to the wolves.

Not that she would. She was loyal to the Empire, and to the people in it. Max knew that. Victor definitely knew it. Justin … should know it.

Normally, she'd never hear a word against him. He was a good teammate and solid in his support for the others. But (the treacherous voices in the back of her head said) …

… like her, he wasn't a combat cape. While he'd won any number of fights, he'd never gotten into them himself; his ghosts did all the fighting. He never had to worry about being punched in the face, or shot, or stabbed.

This was perhaps the first time that he'd actually had to face a serious problem himself, instead of interposing as many ghosts as he needed to between himself and the enemy. It was a highly unpleasant experience for her, and he had to be at least as unhappy about it as she was. In fact, he probably had it worse than she did, because she'd never had a power she could use to defend herself or attack others. He did have such a power, but was unable to use it now without outing himself.

He had to be feeling pretty damn vulnerable. She knew that because she was feeling vulnerable.

And Miss Militia was talking to him right now.

Fuck.

<><>​

Kaiser

About half an hour after Max got off the line with Hookwolf, the phone rang again. He saw as he picked it up that it was Krieg. "Well?" he asked as soon as he had the handset to his ear.

"We haff big problems." Krieg sounded actually flustered enough for his accent to slip through. "I sink Papa has zem. All sree."

"What?" Max shook his head. 'Papa' meant the PRT, by way of the phonetic alphabet. "No, that's not right. I've heard nothing." The PRT loved their victories; it should've been splashed all over the morning news. He paused, frowning. "And it doesn't even make sense. Justin had a thing he was planning to do today with Bradley, so he would've gone straight home to get some sleep."

"I didn't hear it directly." Krieg sounded slightly more under control. "I made contact with Alexander's people inside the building, just to see if they'd heard anything. Nothing specific about any grabs, but they have a car in holding that rammed the bollards last night. License plate matches Alexander's. The whisper is, the people in it were drunk. But that's everything they could tell me. There's an information blackout over anything else about the incident."

Max let Krieg's slight lapse in infosec go by, because there really was no good way to couch all of that in innocuous terms, and it was the sort of thing he needed to know yesterday. If he was reading between the lines correctly, all three of them had gotten drunk after leaving the Medhall meeting, and tried to ram-raid the PRT building. That wasn't the worst of it, or even close to the worst. A simple attempted ramming would also have made the news, but the fact that the PRT were making it need-to-know even inside the building, where normally it would be a case of 'how stupid were those dumbasses' around the water-cooler, meant there was another layer of fuckery going on.

There was only one thing it could be. The PRT knew who they were. Max closed his eyes.

Okay, think. Think.

Once the PRT figured out who they had ahold of, they would've raided their homes before the ink on the search warrants even had time to dry.

What would they find?

Costumes. That's something no lawyer can explain away.

That wasn't quite true: a really top-notch lawyer could pull off the 'cosplaying' gambit, but not with all three of them at once. Even the most lenient judge in the world would raise an eyebrow at that.

Motherfucker.

He had no idea what had possessed Victor and the others to do what Krieg said they'd done, but they'd done it, and now the shit was in the process of impacting the fan at transonic velocities.

Alexander Grayson—Victor—knew almost as much about the inner workings of Medhall as Max himself did, but he also had access to every anti-interrogation technique it was possible for someone to learn; Max wasn't worried about him.

Justin and Diane—Crusader and Othala—were another story altogether. He had no concerns about their loyalty to the cause. There was no way they would willingly give up Max or the Empire; the key word there being 'willingly'.

Both were young, and while neither of them had as much insight into the Empire as a whole as Max or Victor, both of them absolutely knew enough to rip the guts clear out of the ongoing masquerade. Every last secret identity, for one thing. And it was a cast-iron cinch that the PRT would be leaning on them very hard indeed for that information.

Max couldn't really blame them; he'd been flouting the law for years, after all. But that didn't mean he was willing to roll over and play dead for them now that they had hold of a thread that promised to unravel his whole organisation. If he could get his people back out of the clutches of the PRT before the interrogators broke them, it wouldn't get them their secret identities back, but he'd be able to maintain his own, and those of the rest of the Empire.

Failing that and as a last resort, the very precautions that the PRT used to make sure that their prisoners stayed prisoners should make it easier for his moles to ensure that they kept their mouths shut permanently. It wouldn't be his first choice, or even his second, but if he couldn't deal with the situation in any other way, his needs were absolutely going to trump theirs. And to be brutally honest, it was ultimately their fault; it wasn't like someone else had forced them to drunk-drive a car into the lobby of the PRT building.

Something was nagging at him, trying to grab his attention. He knew Krieg would be waiting for instructions, but he had to figure out what he was missing. It was important, he knew that much.

Seeking inspiration, he took the phone away from his ear and looked at it for a moment, and then the penny dropped. Shit, the PRT will have their phones! And I tried to call them!

Putting the phone back to his ear, he did his best to keep his voice calm, just in case there was someone listening in. "I think it's a good idea to discuss this in person in one hour, same venue as last night. Inform Bradley, please. Everyone goes to alternate phones. I'll put out the word to everyone else. See you soon." He ended the call, put the phone on the desk, and stared at it.

If the PRT had the phones of the absent members, then they would be going through what they could of them with a fine-tooth comb. Incoming calls would be tagged and backtraced, and the numbers retrieved. He had to assume that the phone he'd just been using, along with Krieg's and Hookwolf's, were irretrievably compromised. Hopefully, nobody else had tried to contact them.

Opening his desk drawer, he took out a burner phone and sent a mass text to everyone except the three captured capes, Hookwolf, and Krieg. Urgent face to face meeting, one hour, location 3B. Go to burners.

With luck, he decided as he extracted the SIM from the compromised phone, he would be able to contain the damage and get his people back before anything else happened.

<><>​

Winslow High, Between First and Second Period

Sparx

"Hey."

"Hey."

Emma bumped fists with Taylor, who was grinning broadly. She noted that Madison, next to Taylor, was also smirking. "You two look pleased with yourselves."

"We should," Madison agreed. "Everyone who left Medhall last night did it with leaf-bugs and booster bugs on their cars. Taylor got home addresses."

Taylor said nothing, but her level of pure smugness threatened to rival Lisa at her most obnoxious.

"Well, damn." Emma raised her eyebrows. "So, were we right? Option Four?"

Taylor nodded. "Either that, or one of them is also squatting in Max Anders' house." She rolled her eyes to show what she thought of that particular hypothesis. "The PRT's locked itself down tighter than a Protestant convent on St Patrick's Day, but the Empire's gotten wise anyway." She'd gotten that last one from a Dockworker called Gerry, once upon a time.

"Wise?" Emma frowned. "About what? That we did it?"

"No, that the PRT's got them." Taylor grinned. "You know how I was putting bugs on everyone? This morning, I heard a fascinating series of conversations between Max Anders and two people I'm pretty sure were Hookwolf and Krieg, from both ends of the call even." She handed a notebook to Emma. "Transcripts."

Emma's eyebrows rose toward her hairline as she read each line of the supposedly secure phone calls. "Well, that's definitely interesting, alright. Mads, have you read this?"

"Not yet. We were just getting to that bit." Madison accepted the notebook as Emma handed it to her. "Thanks."

"No problem. So, who do you think we should go after next?"

Taylor's grin morphed into an expression that would've made the average homicidal maniac back away slowly while making no sudden moves. "Oh, I've got ideas. But I'd like to discuss them with everyone else first."

Madison nodded. "I vote Stormtiger. He gives air manipulators a bad name."

Emma high-fived her. "As good a reason as any."

<><>​

Miss Militia

When the trooper led Othala into the interrogation room, Hannah was sitting across the table as though she'd never left. Holding the folder up like a book, she pretended to read the contents while Othala was secured back in place. Even after the trooper left the room, she affected not to notice for another thirty seconds, before putting the folder down.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Crusader had a lot to say." She hadn't been near Crusader, but Othala would never be able to prove it. The time had been mostly spent getting an earpiece fitted so information could be passed back and forth without the prisoner noticing.

"He's lying!" Othala blurted. "I never did anything!"

Hannah waited for fifteen seconds, then started to get up. "Not good enough, sorry."

"Wait! If he says I did stuff, he's lying! But I can tell you what he did!"

"We already know what he did in public," Hannah said patiently. "That's part and parcel of being a supervillain. If you're going to get any kind of plea bargain agreement, we're going to need a lot more than that."

As hints went, it was fairly broad, but it had the desired effect. Othala grimaced. "Okay, but I want to make a deal."

Hannah leaned back in her seat and raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly in a position to force us to agree to any deals."

"Alex," Othala forced out. "Whatever I get out of this, he gets it too. Both of us or neither of us. That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

Hannah put on a thoughtful expression. "Nothing for Crusader?"

"If he's talking to you already, then fuck him." Othala's eye searched Hannah's face. "We got a deal?"

It was almost amusing to watch the tension build in the villain's expression as Hannah remained silently deadpan. She had to purse her lips to keep from smiling. "Hmm. So you're willing to waive your right to remain silent and your right to a lawyer?"

"Does Justin have a lawyer?"

Hannah solemnly shook her head. "No, he does not."

"Alright, then. What do I get if I talk to you?" She tried to hold up her hand, but the cuffs prevented the movement. "Wait, what's Justin asked for?"

"It doesn't work that way." Hannah inserted a chiding note into her voice. "That's between us and him. You have to work out your own deal."

"Okay, um, total amnesty for anything we might have done."

Hannah chuckled. "You know it doesn't work that way, either. Not unless you give us literally everything about the Empire Eighty-Eight. Names, dates, crimes that we don't know about yet, banking details, names of their moles in law enforcement. Everything we need to bring them down for good. That's worth total amnesty. Anything less just won't cut it."

"But … I don't know all that stuff." Othala was looking less happy by the second.

"Calm down, that's okay." Hannah opted for letting her down easy, rather than pushing harder. "Whatever you can help us with is good. Mainly, we're interested in confirming information we've already acquired from other sources. If it pans out, we'll definitely pass it on that you've willingly cooperated with us." She did her best to make it sound almost routine and boring. Yeah, yeah, you've agreed to talk. Let's see if you can make it worth our while.

"What information? Where did you get it? Was it Crusader?"

Hannah raised an eyebrow, noting the name shift. "I can neither confirm nor deny."

<><>​

A Little Earlier

Director Piggot's Office

"Ma'am, we may have a break in the Ram-Raid case."

Emily sat up a little straighter at Armsmaster's words. "Brief me."

"Someone tried to call Crusader's phone. I didn't answer it. There were three attempts, which gave me a good cut for location via cell towers. Then someone else tried to call Victor's and Othala's phones. Again, I got a good location cut. Same location. I've already been into Crusader's and Othala's phones; Victor's is a harder nut to crack. The one who called Crusader is down as Bradley in Othala's phone and Hooky in Crusader's phone."

He paused, and Emily smiled grimly. "Hookwolf. Bradley Meadows. You've got more. What is it? And where are these calls coming from?"

Armsmaster took a deep breath, audible over the phone. "The one who called Victor and Othala is down as Boss-Man in Crusader's phone, K in Victor's phone, and Max in Othala's phone. And the location all these calls came from is right over the top of the Medhall building.."

"Which is the recorded place of employment for all three of them." When she'd heard that piece of information, Emily had considered one of them working there as inconsequential and two as a possible coincidence, but all three was a pattern she couldn't afford to ignore. "So it's true. The Medhall corporation is an Empire Eighty-Eight front. Max Anders is Kaiser."

"That's what the information so far seems to point to, yes. I'm ninety-five percent sure of it. But …"

"But not one hundred percent." Emily let out a tiny sigh. "And Max Anders has pitbulls in three-piece suits who will bury us, legally speaking, if we make the accusation but can't get it to stick. Good work. Keep digging. Let me know when we've got enough to choke the pitbulls with."

"Will do, ma'am."

<><>​

Now

Othala

Diane stared at Miss Militia, trying to figure out how little she could get away with giving the woman. She didn't want to betray the Empire, but right now Max Anders wasn't staring down the barrel of a prison sentence, and she was. Worse, if she was reading correctly between the lines of what Miss Militia was saying, Justin was already trying to sell her out to keep himself out of prison.

Fuck that.

"What information are you talking about?" She tried to force a nonchalant tone. "If I don't know about it, I don't know about it."

"Well, we'll see. If you can't answer even basic questions, I might have to assume you're not interested in cooperating." Miss Militia's eyebrows rose slightly. "First question. Hookwolf's real name."

Diane had been braced for something like Max's name—he had to know she'd been taken by now, and was taking precautions—and the softball question caught her unawares. "Oh, uh, Bradley. Bradley Meadows." Wait, don't they know that one already?

"Good." Miss Militia ticked something off. "Purity's real name."

"Kayden Russel." Diane paused, feeling a twinge of remorse. "Not that she's in the team anymore. Walked away from us after she had Kaiser's kid. We still talk, but that's about it. Says she wants to go hero, or some crap like that."

"Mmm-hmm." It was like Miss Militia wasn't even listening. Tick, went the pen. "Night's name."

"Dorothy Schmidt. Creepy bitch. Her and her husband both."

Miss Militia tilted her head slightly. "Oh, so they are married? Hm. I think you just settled a bet between Assault and Velocity." She made a note in the file. "Cricket's name."

"Melody Jurist." Diane was starting to relax. As far as she knew, the PRT knew most of this stuff already. If it gets me what I want, I might as well play along.

It went on like that, touching on Fog, Stormtiger, Rune, Alabaster, Krieg, and the Biermann twins. Finally, Miss Militia looked up from the folder. "So, Kaiser would be Max Anders, then?"

Diane's head came up, and she stared at the Protectorate hero. "What—how did you know that?" She'd had some vague idea of holding out for a more definite offer of better treatment, but this pronouncement had taken the wind entirely out of her sails.

Miss Militia ticked off points on her fingers. "You, Crusader and Victor all work in the Medhall building. Kayden Russel is Max Anders' ex-wife, and you said she had a child by Kaiser. I've met Max Anders, and I've fought Kaiser. If they were not the same man, one would be dead by now. Neither one would accept having to take orders from the other."

"Oh." Well, she wasn't wrong. Kaiser could be proud to a fault. "Um. So, uh, does that help with me and Alex?"

"Absolutely." Miss Militia nodded firmly. "You're doing great. Of course, anything else you can give me would just improve matters."

On one level, Diane knew she was being played, but on the one that mattered, she didn't care. Any chance at all of keeping herself and Alex out of prison, she was going to grab with both hands. "Okay, um, let me think …"

<><>​

Medhall Sub-Basement

Kaiser

"So it's true?" demanded Hookwolf. "The PRT's got all three of them?"

"That's what I understand." Max was just as unhappy as Hookwolf sounded. "According to Victor's people in the building, his car is in impound after it rammed the bollards with drunk people on board. What I want to know is, what could have possessed them to perform such a ridiculous stunt? Crusader, I can just barely see doing it. Othala, less likely, and Victor, never."

Krieg nodded. "I have been thinking about it, and I suspect foul play."

"You mean they were Mastered." Stormtiger was on his feet, pacing back and forth. Odd breezes flitted through the room, stirring papers pinned to the corkboards.

"Perhaps." Krieg stuck to his guns. "Are there any human Masters in the city?"

Max shook his head. "Nobody who could Master three people at once, or do it at all at a moment's notice."

Cricket put her electronic larynx to her throat. "Regent can puppet people. You know, that annoying little shit from the Undersiders."

"Wouldn't be him." Alabaster sounded definite. "Worst I've ever heard of is that he can make people trip, or throw their guns away. Unless he's had a major power upgrade, he's not about to make three people get drunk then ram a car into the PRT headquarters. That's a long way out of his league."

"More to the point, why would he?" Max was fully aware that this question hung over every possible culprit in the matter. "Unless I'm missing something, we don't have any real beef with the Undersiders right now."

"Still running the dog fights," Hookwolf reminded him. "That gets Bitch's panties in a twist."

"It does not scan," objected Krieg. "If Bitch recruited Regent to come after us, then they would come after Hookwolf or Stormtiger or Cricket. Not after three capes who've never even attended a dogfight."

"An' if it was her," Stormtiger added, "she woulda made an example of them, not handed 'em over to the PRT. Nah, Krieg's right. Doesn't feel like the Undersiders."

"Well then, who?" Max was feeling more than a little irritated. He'd been hoping they'd be able to figure out who was pulling this shit on the Empire; that knowledge would've informed their next actions. Specifically, who to track down and gruesomely murder. "Some out of towner looking to cut in on our action, given that Lung and Coil are under lock and key?"

Hookwolf frowned. "Haven't heard of anyone coming in, but it'd have to be a whole team. Thinker to get themselves up to speed with the town and figure out who Victor and the others were, maybe a Tinker to grab 'em all by surprise, an' a Master to make 'em get drunk and drive into the bollards."

"Or it could be a local team." Krieg held up his hand to forestall the immediate protests. "Let us not miss the forest for the trees. Consider this: if we were to ignore the need for a Master to be involved, who would be our first suspect in the matter? Who is our most urgent concern at the moment?"

Max frowned. "The Samaritans, of course. They've run rampant over the villains inside the city, not to mention the Slaughterhouse Nine."

"Twice, even," Hookwolf just had to put in. "Most people didn't used to survive their first run-in with those assholes."

"Wait," Rune objected. "You think it's actually the Samaritans? What about the Master side of things?"

"We know they rammed the bollards, and that they were drunk. That is literally all we know at this moment." Krieg's tone was precise and measured. "Mastery is the simplest way that could have been achieved, but I doubt it is the only one. The Samaritans have built a strong reputation for resourcefulness and being able to meet any challenge at short notice. Do you honestly believe they could not have pulled that off?"

A silence fell over the table. Even Stormtiger stopped pacing. Max examined the concept from all angles and prodded it a few times before admitting in his own mind that it appeared to be sound.

"I have just one issue with this," he said eventually. "If we assume it was the Samaritans who did all this, and we redouble all our efforts to squashing the Samaritans, only to find out it wasn't them … what happens then?"

Krieg nodded in acknowledgement. "That is a distinct possibility, yes. But if that were the case, we would still be faced with two extant threats, and dealing with one of them is good, no matter which one we tackle first. If, on the other hand, it is the Samaritans doing this …" He let his voice trail off.

"… then if we gank those annoying little bitches, all this shit goes away." Hookwolf nodded. "Yeah, that works for me."

"So if it is them …" Menja began.

"… how do you think they're doing it?" finished Fenja.

Max curled his lip. "I'll be sure to ask the last one alive, just before we consign her to a shallow grave." He waited until the table-slapping and other sounds of approbation died down before raising his voice. "Next order of business. Victor, Othala and Crusader have been in PRT custody for approximately twelve hours. Part of that undoubtedly was taken up with recovering from a drunken stupor, but we have to assume that they're being vigorously interrogated. What are the chances that they'll break?"

Alabaster shook his head. "Victor, not a goddamn chance in hell. He's more likely to end up with stuff about them."

"True." Krieg frowned. "Crusader is just stubborn enough to hold out, even to his own detriment. I have my doubts, however, about Othala."

"Hey, O's staunch!" objected Rune. "She'd never give us up!" She gestured around the table. "She's been there for all of us! Healed us, given us boosts, helped us win fights! You can't just write her off like that!"

"Nobody's writing her off." Max gave her a serious look. "However, she's the next youngest member of the team after you, and she's never had to go head-to-head with law enforcement. You wouldn't break; you've been incarcerated before. But she doesn't know the little psychological tricks they can pull. If they made her believe, for instance, that Victor had turned on her to get a lighter sentence, that might get to her."

"Wouldn't work." Alabaster made a scissoring motion with his hands. "She'd never believe that. But if they told her that Crusader was fucking her over to get off easy …" He spread his hands. "She might just fall for it."

"Let's put a pin in that for a moment." Max steepled his fingers. "There are two other security issues that need to be addressed. Hookwolf, Krieg; you both called their phones. This means the PRT has your numbers. Has anyone else tried to call them since last night?"

After a moment, Rune's hand went up. "After Krieg called, asking me if I'd heard from O, I sent her a text, but she never replied. Just 'Hey, girl, whassup?'."

"Dump the SIM," Max said bluntly. "That one's almost certainly got a trace on it by now. Anyone else?"

Nobody answered, which he took as a good sign. Rune, Hookwolf and Krieg all pulled their phones out and set about extracting the SIM cards, not without a little grumbling from the teenager. Ignoring her, Alabaster turned to Max. "You said two security issues. What's the other one?"

"Medhall." Max gestured at the ceiling. "All three of them work here. I'd wager even Director Piggot at her most oblivious is likely to find something suspicious in that."

Krieg looked up from his phone. "As I recall, that was your idea. 'Keep everything in-house', I believe was your phrasing at the time."

"Well, what's done is done." Max smoothly pivoted away from what he'd been about to say. "Pointing fingers isn't going to do anyone any good. We need to figure out where we go from here. How do we deflect official attention away from Medhall?" And away from me, he didn't quite say.

"Might be harder than we think." Alabaster sat forward. "Getting back to Othala maybe spilling the beans, it doesn't matter what we do on our end if she's feeding them what they need to know on their end."

Max hadn't wanted to raise that specific topic; not from squeamishness or any particular attachment to Othala, but because it was easier to run the show if the others didn't think he was willing to discard them at the drop of a hat. Now that it had been introduced, of course, he jumped right onto it. "Go on."

"Well, it's simple," Alabaster said after a momentary pause. "We can say no all we like, but if she's telling them yes, they'll just keep looking. So we've either gotta totally discredit her somehow, or just plain take her away from the PRT. Maybe both."

Max leaned back in his chair and affected a thoughtful pose. "And when you say, 'take her away from the PRT' …?"

Rune broke in from across the table. "Rescue, duh. What did you think he was talking about?" She paused, belatedly remembering who she was addressing. "Uh, sir."

"And what if it's impossible to rescue her?" asked Hookwolf. "If the PRT knows who they've got their hands on, that place'll be more watertight than a duck's butthole. Even if we busted in, we'd have no idea which cells they're in." He looked over at Krieg. "Can Victor's moles get them out?"

Krieg grimaced. "Get them out? Unlikely. Right now, that information is need to know, and they're not high enough in the food chain to have that need. We'd burn all of them if we attempted a breakout from inside, with a low probability of success."

"Recorded testimony's one thing, but getting an actual witness on the stand is solid gold for judges and juries, right?" Alabaster said, looking around the table. "What if we just, you know, cut our losses? Had the moles remove the witness?"

"What the fuck?" Rune came to her feet. "You're saying we should murder Othala? Shut her up by killing her, just because it's more convenient that way? Is that what you're saying?"

"Sit! Down!" Max's voice crackled across the room. Despite her agitation, the teenager dropped back into her seat without hesitation. "The course of action Alabaster is suggesting isn't more convenient. In fact, it's seriously inconvenient. As you say, Othala is a valued member of the team. Her power has helped us all at one point or another. Victor would be devastated at her loss. But."

There was silence for a moment, then Rune ventured the question. "But …?"

Max took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "But we're up against the wall, here. There are no good options, and even the bad ones are going to be difficult to pull off. If we do nothing, or if we don't try hard enough, the Empire falls. Medhall will be gone, and with it most of our resources. Our secret identities, gone. Everything we have, crumbled to dust. Do you truly want that?"

"You know I don't!" She glared at him, apparently forgetting again that he was in charge. "Why don't we just bust in there and take them away from the PRT? I can totally put a ten-ton block of concrete clean through the wall if I have to."

"Because we don't have the intel we need, and even if we did, we haven't got the heavy hitters to get in there and out again." There. It was out in the open. "Victor could worm the intel out of their computer systems, and Crusader could infiltrate the building with ghosts and find any prisoners we wanted, but they're the ones in there. This is why we've always waited until Hookwolf was on the Birdcage transport before springing him."

"Purity could do it." Rune hadn't backed down yet. This was a level of attitude that he was going to have to address at some point. "And if she brought Night and Fog in to help, it would be even easier."

"Are you not listening? I've been trying to tell you—wait." He paused as what she'd said finally registered with him. "Purity?"

Rune was right, he realised. Purity—Kayden—would absolutely add enough firepower to the team to allow them to spring the other three from durance vile, especially if (as Rune had suggested) Night and Fog came in on it as well.

Krieg nodded approvingly. "Her presence would definitely change matters, yes. You should perhaps give her a call."

"Fine," he agreed. "I will." And if she says no, then she's the bad guy and not me.

Of course, he knew exactly which buttons to press to make sure she didn't. Because he was very, very good at motivating people.

<><>​

Purity

When the phone rang, Kayden snatched it up in case it woke Aster. Her daughter slept on undisturbed, so Kayden stepped into the kitchen and put the phone to her ear. The number on the caller ID was unknown to her, so she was braced to give an earful to the person on the other end if they turned out to be a telemarketer. "Hello?"

"Good morning. Have I called at a bad time?" Max's voice was jovial, which rang rather loud alarm bells in her mind. Her ex-husband was never this cheerful, unless he either wanted something or had just gotten what he wanted.

"Not really. Aster's just gone down. What do you want?" She tried not to sound curt, but it wasn't easy.

"Oh, good. We have a slight problem, and I'm hoping you can help us with it. Last night, Alex, Diane and Justin ended up in a little trouble. They need to be extracted from Papa's house before difficult questions get asked and answered."

"How did—no, never mind." Kayden eased the kitchen door most of the way closed, so she could keep an eye on Aster and talk at the same time. "What part do you see me playing in this scenario?"

He chuckled lightly. "What you're best at." Which meant blowing large holes in buildings.

Kayden hesitated. She wanted to just tell him no and end the call before he inevitably talked her into his latest ill-advised scheme, but the question nagged at her. "What's your plan for if I'm unavailable?"

His tone became a lot more serious. "Without you, we can't realistically pull it off. If they stay where they are, the odds that one or more of them will get loose lips—probably Diane—get higher all the time. And if that happens, a lot of information about our social club gets spread far and wide, including who you are. I'm sure that CPS would be thoroughly unreasonable about allowing custody to certain people. Nobody wants to go there."

He was right, she realised as a chill seized her heart. Any information leaks about the Empire Eighty-Eight would inevitably out her at the same time. They would absolutely try to take Aster away from her.

I'll kill them all first. It didn't matter who 'they' were. If they tried to take her daughter, they would die.

"So, what's plan B then? I know you, Max. You always have a plan B."

He was really good at the whole 'regretful necessity' tone. If she hadn't heard it a thousand times before, she might even have bought it. "After some discussion, it was decided that for the good of the social club, if we had no other options, we might have to remove the problem from consideration."

His weasel-wording was so smooth that she took a couple of seconds to decipher it. "You mean you'd have her taken care of."

"It certainly wouldn't be my first choice." He sounded so sincere, she almost believed him. "Unfortunately, sometimes hard decisions have to be made, especially when you're caught between two unpalatable options. Would you truly choose to endanger Aster to save her life? Because that's what it comes down to."

Her grip on the phone was so tight, the plastic creaked in her hand. She knew without looking that her knuckles were white. "Goddamn it, Max. Fuck you with a rusty garden fork. I'm trying to be a hero here, and I'm really making headway now that the opposition is behind bars. But if I do this for you, all that goes away."

"Are you blaming me for whatever they did to end up where they are? Because I really don't think that's fair." He didn't even have to try for injured innocence that time, because (irritatingly enough) it was actually justified. "I certainly didn't plan this. We're still not totally sure how it happened, though our current theory is that the Samaritans did it. So if you want to blame anyone, blame them."

She slid to her knees, teeth clenched and eyes shut tight, wishing she was callous enough to condemn Othala to death and be fine with it. But she wasn't. The Empire Eighty-Eight had been her only family for far too long, and she still considered Diane to be her friend.

"When?" she forced out. She knew she was abandoning her dream of being a hero, but that was Max all over; he was good at fucking up dreams for people.

"Noon shift change. I'll put Theo in a cab to your apartment, to watch Aster. You can take it back to the Medhall building. We'll go over the final plan then, and hit them while they still think we know nothing. Oh, and can you get Night and Fog in on this too?"

Kayden hesitated. Geoff and Dorothy were just a phone call away, and would definitely come along if she asked. But they were even less concerned about the sanctity of human life than the rest of the Empire. Any innocent bystanders would be in grave danger, just for being nearby.

On the other hand, the margin between success and failure could easily be dictated by whether they were there or not. And she did not want her door to be kicked in one day while she was out, and Aster just … taken. The very notion made her want to kill something.

In for a penny, in for a pound. "… fine," she said, on the tail end of a sigh. "I'll get them in on it too."

"Excellent." She could just tell he was beaming. Why wouldn't he be? He'd gotten what he wanted, after all. "I'll see you soon, then."

<><>​

Ladybug

About halfway through World Issues, with Mr Gladly waffling on about how the 2003 trade deficit between Indonesia and Australia had led to political changes in both nations, I began to get the impression that something was shaping up to be very wrong indeed.

As a matter of course, I'd kept tabs on all the members of the Empire that we'd located and identified, and I'd noticed a pattern of movement that was quite concerning. Kaiser was already in the Medhall building, but he'd sent a text and then gone down within the building to an area well below ground level; the same place Crusader, Victor and Othala had gone on the previous night. Again, he went through the rigmarole of covering himself with bug spray. I'd anticipated this and left the booster bug in his office, but a couple of leaf-bugs had made the trip down with him.

Other members of the Empire whom I'd already marked with leaf-bugs came in to join him, some from outside and a couple from within the building. I couldn't listen in on the discussion because leaf-bugs were good at hiding and avoiding bug spray, not espionage. However, I did have one detach itself from each person and scuttle across the floor, up the wall and along the ceiling until they were directly over the table.

Any one bug had terrible eyesight, but I was figuring out how to get a gestalt of what they saw and form a single not-so-bad image out of it, after I'd read how astronomers could use a bunch of telescopes spread over a wide area to simulate a single scope with much better angular resolution. And I really, really wanted to know what they were looking at on the table.

While I was still figuring that one out, three more people arrived and made their way down into the sub-basement. Hastily, I shoved leaf-bugs onto them as well, and tried to figure out what was going on.

There were two women, one of whom was quite petite, and one man. He and the taller woman seemed to be together. When Kaiser kissed the petite woman, I had my clue. This had to be Purity, and the last pair would be Night and Fog.

We'd thought Purity had separated herself from the Empire, but here she was, attending a planning session. Why hadn't she come to the one last night? And why were Night and Fog here?

Then Kaiser leaned over the table and tapped the big sheet of paper in the middle, just as I finally managed to get my ceiling bugs to focus properly on it.

I was looking at a plan of the PRT building.

What they were saying was out of my reach, thanks to the bug-spray precaution, but I was pretty sure this wasn't a meeting of the local Architectural Appreciation Society. I was already aware that the Empire knew where their three missing members had disappeared to. From this, it looked like they were planning to go break them out, and Kaiser had somehow roped in Purity, Night, and Fog as extra muscle.

Well, crap.



End of Part Thirty-Six

 

[macdjord]

Finally, Othala saw the pitfall yawning in front of her, and behind as well. "I … uh, I want to exercise my right to be silent now. Also, I want a lawyer. And my phone call. You have to give me a phone call. It's the law."

"We can do all that, certainly." Hannah stood up and slid the photos back into the folder. "But think about this while you're sitting silently in your cell, waiting for us to arrange your lawyer and your phone call.

Click to shrink...

FYI, the 'right to one phone call' thing is a Hollywood invention. Othala might believe it, but MM would know better.

Also, I'm pretty sure any competent lawyer would be able to get everything Othala told them past this point thrown out. Once a suspect asks for a lawyer, they cannot be questioned further until they have had a chance to actually confer with their lawyer; the results of any further interrogation before the lawyer arrives is inadmissible. While I can certainly see the PRT not caring much about a suspect's legal rights, this is a case where it could make things seriously tricky for any eventual prosecution.

If the PRT had the phones of the absent members, then they would be going through what they could of them with a fine-tooth comb. Incoming calls would be tagged and backtraced, and the numbers retrieved. He had to assume that the phone he'd just been using, along with Krieg's and Hookwolf's, were irretrievably compromised. Hopefully, nobody else had tried to contact them.

Click to shrink...

Missing the forest for the trees, there, Max. As soon as they get the phones unlocked - which Armsmaster ought to be able to do in a matter of minutes - they'll know everyone who's called the phone in the last few months, as well as every number in their contacts.

 

[meloa789]

Rest in piss Anders, no one is going to miss you.

 

[Ack]

FYI, the 'right to one phone call' thing is a Hollywood invention. Othala might believe it, but MM would know better.

Click to shrink...

That actually varies by state. Some states allow a phone call.

Also, I'm pretty sure any competent lawyer would be able to get everything Othala told them past this point thrown out. Once a suspect asks for a lawyer, they cannot be questioned further until they have had a chance to actually confer with their lawyer; the results of any further interrogation before the lawyer arrives is inadmissible. While I can certainly see the PRT not caring much about a suspect's legal rights, this is a case where it could make things seriously tricky for any eventual prosecution.

Click to shrink...

This is why they have it verbally recorded that he's waiving his right to a lawyer before he talks to them.

If someone's been read their rights and they still choose to talk, that's totally admissible.

Missing the forest for the trees, there, Max. As soon as they get the phones unlocked - which Armsmaster ought to be able to do in a matter of minutes - they'll know everyone who's called the phone in the last few months, as well as every number in their contacts.

Click to shrink...

Prior calls could be casual acquaintances. People calling them after they've vanished are more than that.

 

[macdjord]

That actually varies by state. Some states allow a phone call.

Click to shrink...

Citation? A quick google says:

• You universally have the right to contact an attorney, and the police must give you the means to do so. You are not restricted to a single phone call for this; if you can't get through, or the situation changes and you need to talk to them again, you can make another call. This call is privileged and cannot be monitored or recorded by the police.
• You generally have a right to contact people in general, e.g. to let your work or family know that you've been arrested. The exact details of who you may call and how often vary by jurisdiction.
• But there is no place except Hollywood where you are guaranteed the right to one and only one phone call, which can be to anyone.

This is why they have it verbally recorded that he's waiving his right to a lawyer before he talks to them.

If someone's been read their rights and they still choose to talk, that's totally admissible.

Click to shrink...

Yes, someone can choose not to invoke their right to a lawyer. But Othala invoked her right to a lawyer, explicitly:

"I … uh, I want to exercise my right to be silent now. Also, I want a lawyer. And my phone call. You have to give me a phone call. It's the law."

Click to shrink...

After that, the police are not permitted to ask any more questions. If they do, anything said is inadmissible. AFAICT, you cannot withdraw the request to make things admissible again; in order to get any further admissible interrogation done, they need to actually supply you with a lawyer and give the two of you a chance to talk privately. The system is set up this way specifically to prevent exactly what the PRT did here: just ignoring someone's request for a lawyer and continuing to badger them until they can be convinced to 'voluntarily' start answering questions without council again.

Now, this only applies to questioning; anything you supply unprompted, even after asking for a lawyer, is admissible. (It would be rather silly if you could go "I want a lawyer. And now that this is inadmissible, I totally did it but you'll never prove it, nyah-nyah-nyah!".) But Miss M was asking questions, so that doesn't apply to the version as-written. You could maybe make something like that work: MM comes back in, tells her Justin snitched (which is answering questions, not asking them), then mentions she can't ask any questions - maybe throw in some vague aspersions about whether an E88 lawyer is going to be more concerned about helping Diane or the gang - but if Diane happened to volunteer something before that happened... (I don't think such a tactic would actually hold up in court, but it would be be at least somewhat plausible that the PRT might get away with it in Worm!America.)

 

[Ack]

Citation? A quick google says:

• You universally have the right to contact an attorney, and the police must give you the means to do so. You are not restricted to a single phone call for this; if you can't get through, or the situation changes and you need to talk to them again, you can make another call. This call is privileged and cannot be monitored or recorded by the police.
• You generally have a right to contact people in general, e.g. to let your work or family know that you've been arrested. The exact details of who you may call and how often vary by jurisdiction.
• But there is no place except Hollywood where you are guaranteed the right to one and only one phone call, which can be to anyone.

Yes, someone can choose not to invoke their right to a lawyer. But Othala invoked her right to a lawyer, explicitly:

After that, the police are not permitted to ask any more questions. If they do, anything said is inadmissible. AFAICT, you cannot withdraw the request to make things admissible again; in order to get any further admissible interrogation done, they need to actually supply you with a lawyer and give the two of you a chance to talk privately. The system is set up this way specifically to prevent exactly what the PRT did here: just ignoring someone's request for a lawyer and continuing to badger them until they can be convinced to 'voluntarily' start answering questions without council again.

Now, this only applies to questioning; anything you supply unprompted, even after asking for a lawyer, is admissible. (It would be rather silly if you could go "I want a lawyer. And now that this is inadmissible, I totally did it but you'll never prove it, nyah-nyah-nyah!".) But Miss M was asking questions, so that doesn't apply to the version as-written. You could maybe make something like that work: MM comes back in, tells her Justin snitched (which is answering questions, not asking them), then mentions she can't ask any questions - maybe throw in some vague aspersions about whether an E88 lawyer is going to be more concerned about helping Diane or the gang - but if Diane happened to volunteer something before that happened... (I don't think such a tactic would actually hold up in court, but it would be be at least somewhat plausible that the PRT might get away with it in Worm!America.)

Click to shrink...

When the Right to an Attorney Applies

"Therefore, although a defendant who has invoked his Sixth Amendment right to counsel with respect to the offense for which he is being prosecuted may not waive that right, he may waive his Miranda -based right not to be interrogated about unrelated and uncharged offenses."

Miss Militia isn't interrogating her about any of her crimes. She's asking for information on the Empire Eighty-Eight, which doesn't quite count as a confession, and for which Diane can't be charged, but it does help fill in the gaps in other directions.

 

[Ack]

One More Trigger

Part Thirty-Seven: Pushback

[A/N 1: Due to significant discussion regarding Purity in the last chapter, I've decided to put up the next chapter for this fic early.]

[A/N 2: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Purity

"Here you are, folks." The cabbie pulled up in the taxi drop-off zone outside the Medhall building. If he was a little abrupt with the braking, Kayden didn't mind. Even on their best behaviour, Geoff and Dorothy were more than a little creepy, and he'd spent the majority of the trip glancing in the rearview mirror.

"Thanks." She paid the fare displayed on the meter, then handed him an extra twenty for a tip. He could've decided 'to hell with the fare' and kicked them out somewhere along the way, but he hadn't, which was a good thing. She probably would have had to argue them into not killing him, risking Max's displeasure at the delay. "Have a good day."

"You too, lady." Now that the trip was over and they were getting out of his vehicle, the taxi driver seemed to be relaxing slightly. "Thanks for the tip." But he still took off the moment the doors were shut, not even waiting for an appropriately large gap between cars. A few horns blew and brakes squealed, but he made it into the flow of traffic unscathed.

Kayden drew a deep breath, then let it out as she turned to the other two. "Okay, I need to talk to you about what we're going to be doing."

"Going to the PRT building," Geoff said immediately.

"Ensuring that the PRT can't interrogate Othala, Crusader or Victor," Dorothy added.

"I could go in through the air vents," Geoff offered. "No extraction required. They would just die. The PRT can't interrogate dead people."

"No!" She belatedly realised that her voice had been sharp enough to draw attention, which was the last thing she wanted to do, so she deliberately moderated her tone. "No. We are not going to be killing them. We are breaking them out of holding. Getting them out alive."

Dorothy tilted her head. "Killing them would be easier and quicker."

For a moment, Kayden wondered if this had been Max's plan all along; asking her to help break Othala out, then 'suggesting' that Night and Fog attend as well. He knew their bloodthirsty tendencies all too well. That sort of thing could be useful when up against adversaries who needed to die now, but she was trying to be a goddamn hero, and heroes didn't just murder innocents, or friends.

There was another mental jolt as she recalled that acceding to this … expedition? Excursion? Mission? Whatever the hell it was, once her unmistakeable power signature was seen to be part of the Empire attack on the PRT building, all the work she'd put into being a hero would be gone. The world would forever see her as a villain again.

Fuck you, Max. Why do you keep doing this to me?

The answer, after a few seconds of reflection, was simple. Because he can. Max Anders delighted in sticking his fingers into other people's lives and bending them to his personal whims.

"No killing," she said. "We're here to get them out, not to kill them."

Geoff smiled, a thoroughly unsettling expression. "Then we will kill everyone else, yes? It is an unavoidable circumstance. We either kill them, or the PRT guards holding them."

"No," she said again, prompted by the last dying echoes of her desire to be a hero. "We don't kill the guards, either. We can stop them without killing them."

"The PRT will be trying to kill us," Dorothy said in the same tone as someone else might say, 'the opposing team will be trying to score points'. "We should kill them first."

Kayden had been worried about this. "If we do that, then there's a good chance we'll all get kill orders." She didn't think that would really happen, but God only knew how the PRT would actually react to a bloodbath inside one of their own buildings.

Geoff, predictably, had an answer to that one too. "Not if there are no witnesses."

Kayden pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering if she should've simply dumped her entire life down the drain and gone on the run with Aster instead of participating in this venture. Her common sense kicked in a moment later, reminding her that an adult with an infant was far more conspicuous than one without. Her bank accounts would either be drained or frozen in short order, and very young children had a vast range of health and nutritional needs that simply could not be ignored. From that moment on, her choices would range between committing crimes just to eat (and to feed Aster), crawling back to Brockton Bay (and Max) with her tail between her legs, and turning herself in to the untender mercies of the PRT: none of which appealed.

Every time she'd tried contacting the PRT with the information that she was turning to the hero side and would they please stop shooting at her, she either got no response at all or a curt directive to hand herself over for arrest and trial with no special treatment. From this, she figured that telling them about Aster would be a mistake of the highest degree, and that even if she went to another city, the Director there would back Piggot up. That was how law enforcement operated, after all.

"No. We do not kill the guards," she said, trying again to get through to them. "We do not kill any witnesses. Is that understood?"

"That is understood," Geoff said, echoed a moment later by Dorothy.

Kayden had her doubts, but she figured that was the best she would get. Turning, she led the way up the steps to the front entrance of the Medhall building.

Entirely unnoticed by all three of them, tiny bugs settled on their clothing and changed colour immediately to blend in.

<><>​

Aerodyne

The first Madison knew about anything amiss was when a fly came buzzing around her face. That wasn't particularly unusual, except when her teammate—who could control insects—was in the same classroom. Then Taylor put up her hand and cleared her throat. "Mr Gladly? I need to go to the washroom, bad."

He frowned, which wasn't totally surprising. Mr Gladly seemed to think of his classes as exhibitions of how to teach properly, and he didn't want his students to miss any part of the experience. "Are you sure you can't hold it, Taylor?"

"I'm certain, Mr Gladly." Taylor put on a grimace of her own. "It's, uh, girl problems."

He visibly flinched. "Ah, right. Go, go. You're, uh, alright? You have, uh, supplies?"

That was Madison's cue. "I've got some, Mr Gladly. I'll take her there and make sure she's okay."

"Yeah, thanks, Madison." Taylor threw in a wince as she got up from her desk. "I really appreciate it."

Before he could change his mind about Madison also missing out on his sublime teaching skills, they were out the door and heading up the stairs toward the girls' washroom. They'd made it up one flight of stairs before Madison decided to make sure of her suspicions, and glanced at Taylor. "You don't really need, uh, supplies, do you? Because I don't actually have any."

"Nope," Taylor confirmed briskly. "I'm all good on that front. But I need to make an urgent phone call, and I'm pretty sure Gladly would've noticed that. You know, eventually."

Madison snorted. Mr Gladly did have a talent for becoming engrossed in his own awesomeness as a teacher. "So, what's the big problem?"

"Second Star Wars movie." Taylor kept moving. Her long legs gave her a totally unfair advantage, making Madison work twice as hard just to keep up with her. Fortunately, the ongoing cardio training under the Dad Brigade was exactly what she needed for that.

All the same, they hit the top of the steps before Madison figured out what Taylor actually meant with her cryptic statement. All three of them had decided unanimously that the prequel trilogy wasn't 'real' Star Wars, which meant Taylor was referring to … "Shit, the Empire's doing something?"

"That's my understanding. Do me a favour and keep a lookout?" Taylor ducked into the washroom with Madison right behind her, then pulled out her phone.

"What about Emma?" asked Madison. "She needs to know about this too."

"I texted her and Dad before I put my hand up. If you can call your dad to come pick us up, that'd be great." Taylor called up a number on her phone, then put the phone to her ear. "Hi, this is Ladybug of the Samaritans. I need to speak to Director Piggot, please. Yes, it's urgent. Yes, I can wait."

<><>​

Director's Office, PRT ENE

Up until now, the Samaritans' unofficial spokesperson had apparently been Sparx, so when Emily was informed that a phone call was coming in from Ladybug, it was the first indication that something untoward was happening. Still, despite her differences with the team—mainly to do with their (possibly) accidental poaching of at least one of her Wards—they were still nominally heroes. More to the point, they were very good at what they did, as demonstrated by the cutting-out expedition that had extracted Oni Lee from within what had remained of ABB territory. So, she was definitely interested in hearing what Ladybug had to say.

"Director's office, you have Director Piggot. I'm speaking to Ladybug?"

"That's correct." It sounded like what she knew of Ladybug's voice. "Director Piggot, you've got a big problem. Right now, we're putting together a response, but we're going to be necessarily delayed. The Empire knows you've got Victor, Othala and Crusader, and from what we're able to discern, they're prepping to hit you very soon to take their teammates back."

Emily didn't bother taking notes; the phone call was already being recorded as a matter of course. "I have questions. First: how do they know? Second, how do you know? Third, how do you know what they're doing?"

Ladybug didn't miss a beat. "Victor has moles inside your building—"

"Wait," Emily interrupted. "How many? What are their names? How do you know this?"

"Sorry, don't know how many or what their names are, just that Krieg contacted them this morning and pieced together enough information to determine that Victor and the others were in your custody. We already knew about it because we're just that good. As for the third question, they had a meeting last night in a sub-basement of the Medhall building—the entire company's an Empire front, by the way—"

"Yes. We're aware of that." Emily took sour satisfaction in spoiling the big reveal.

"Oh. Good. One more thing we don't have to fill you in on. Anyway, they're meeting there right now, but they've called in three more people who weren't there last night. I don't know for certain, but from general appearance and the fact that they went straight down to the meeting area, I would guess that they're Purity, Night and Fog. As we speak, they're all looking over a floor plan of the PRT building, and Kaiser is giving instructions."

That said exactly one thing to Emily: the Empire was planning a full-on assault of the PRT building. Pulling out her second desk drawer, she eyed the row of three rectangular buttons on the panel within. Currently, the green one was glowing steadily, but when she pushed the yellow one, it clicked in and lit up in turn. Discreet alarms would be sounding throughout the building, and the exterior doors would be no longer opening to admit visitors. 'Red' threat posture would lock the building down and bring all personnel to immediate high alert.

"Thank you for the warning, but if you were spying on their meeting last night and you knew who they were then, why haven't you yet come to us with that information? Why are you only talking to us now?"

Ladybug didn't seem fazed by the implied accusation. "We wanted to make sure we could verify everything before we handed them over to you. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes. Were you the ones who captured Victor, Othala, and Crusader and gift-wrapped them for us?" Ladybug had dodged the question before, and Emily couldn't see how they might have done it even with that diverse set of powers. However, she could add two and two with the best of them, and the Samaritans seemed to add up to a big fat 'four'.

"As I said, Director, we're just that good." The call ended on that ambiguous note, but Emily was no longer interested in pursuing a more definitive answer.

Reaching over to her desk intercom panel, she hit the all-units address button. "Attention. This is the Director speaking. You will have no doubt noted the yellow alert. All off-duty troopers are to armour up and report for duty. All administrative staff are to close down their workstations and evacuate the building now. Lobby guards are to usher all visitors out of the building and enact full lockdown. As soon as all non-essential personnel are offsite, we will be transitioning to alert status red. This is not a drill. I say again, this is not a drill. Piggot, out."

Fully aware that she'd just kicked the anthill, for which she would be probably called to account later on, she took up her phone and speed-dialled a particular number.

"Director?" responded Armsmaster. "What's the situation? Does this have to do with our recently acquired prisoners?"

"It does." She took a moment to appreciate the fact that he'd thought things through that far. "I just got a phone call from Ladybug of the Samaritans, warning us of an assault in force from the Empire Eighty-Eight, most likely to break their comrades free. Purity, Night, and Fog are also strongly suspected to be in on this. They were still in the planning stage as of thirty seconds ago, which means we've got at least the travel time between the Medhall building—that connection is confirmed, by the way—and here to prepare."

"Understood." There was no trepidation in his voice. "Are the Samaritans likely to be assisting?"

"The implication was that they are, but they were also caught on the back foot. Sparx usually handles these calls. They might not get here before the Empire does." She took a deep breath. "Ladybug also positively stated that we have Empire moles in the building, run by Victor. I want you to devote all your resources toward cracking his phone and identifying them before the Empire gets here. The last thing we want is a mole opening a sealed door or tossing a grenade in the wrong direction. Find them, and take them out of play."

"Understood, ma'am."

"Good. Piggot, out." She ended the call and took a deep breath before moving to the next item on her mental checklist. Another number was called up on the phone. "Major Lorimar. What is the status of the special-situation prisoners?"

"Prisoner Oscar is currently in interrogation, ma'am. Eyeball checks indicate that the other two are present and in good health. What are your orders?"

"Foam them. Fill the cells. Once Oscar is returned to your level, foam her into her cell too. Then set up a defensive perimeter in the detention level. I will be instituting full lockdown in short order. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. Entirely understood." If he was dubious about his orders, she didn't hear it in his voice. "Was there anything else, ma'am?"

"No, Major. Carry out your orders. Piggot, out." She ended the call, then called up Miss Militia's number. Getting her ducks in a row was often an arduous task, but it was worth it in the end.

<><>​

Computer Studies Class

Sparx

The message from Taylor was short and to the point. Prob w E88. Contacting Dads.

Emma knew what this meant. Covertly, she slid her notebook into her backpack and began to clear her computer desktop, saving her work as she went. She was almost done when the expected call came over the antiquated PA system. "Emma Barnes … please report to the principal's office. Emma Barnes … please report to the principal's office."

"Ooh," murmured one of the other girls, Laura someone. "You're in trou-ble …"

Ignoring her, Emma finished clearing the desktop and shut the computer down. She swung her backpack onto her shoulder and gave Mrs Knott a bright smile. "I'm sure it's nothing serious."

This didn't wholly convince the teacher. "It's probably a good idea not to keep them waiting, dear."

"I'm going, I'm going." Emma slipped out through the door and closed it behind her. The call for Taylor came when she was halfway to the office, and the one for Madison when she got there. It wasn't a perfect system, but with any luck people wouldn't connect the three calls to the office with each other, or with the Samaritans.

"Ms Barnes," the principal's secretary said once she got there, "we received a call from your father. It appears there's a family situation, and he needs to take you out of the school today."

"Oh, no!" She was very good at feigning distress, even if she did say so herself. "Did he say what's happened?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't privy to that information." Giving her a smile of faked sympathy, the woman gestured to the industrial-grade uncomfortable plastic chairs that lined the wall of the office. "You can wait there until he arrives."

Emma's return smile was equally fake, but looked much more genuine; she'd worked at making it so. "I've got a better idea. I'll wait out at the front."

Before the secretary could muster an objection, she left the office again, heading for the front steps. From that point on, it was just a waiting game.

<><>​

Ladybug

Madison and I ducked back into Mr Gladly's classroom just ahead of the announcement calling me to the office (not that he knew it was coming). I shot him a grateful smile and slid back into my desk. Leaning across to the person in the next row, Shane someone, I asked quietly, "So, what'd I miss?"

"Wow, you actually came back?" He seemed honestly surprised. "If I was a chick, I'd use that excuse to ditch class for the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of the week."

"Trust me, the thought crossed my mind." I angled my head toward the blackboard. "What's happening now?"

"Uh, the economic aftereffects of Behemoth's attack on Jakarta in 'ninety-four, and how it made the trade thing even worse than it should have."

"Oh, right." Just as the PA system crackled, I opened my textbook. I pretended not to hear my name the first time around, then I looked up and frowned. "Is that for me? Really? Did someone see me going to the washroom and report me or something?"

"Well, if they did, I'm next," quipped Madison as I closed my textbook.

Mr Gladly looked pained at the interruption. "If we can have some quiet, please, Ms Clements?"

"Sorry, Mr G. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. Ms Hebert, you may as well take your books with you. Whatever they need you for, I doubt you'll be back before lunch."

"Sorry about this, Mr Gladly." I slid my textbook into my bag as I stood up again. "I guess this just isn't my day." Without waiting for his response, I escaped from the classroom and headed off down the corridor. I may have outwardly seemed to be just another normal teen making her way to the principal's office, but mentally I was very busy indeed.

From the moment I'd picked up on the new threat, I'd been mustering bugs from all over the city into two gigantic (if covert) swarms. The first was going to be focused around the Medhall building, while the second was converging on the PRT building. I already had booster bugs around Medhall, but they were less important than the ketamine bugs that I still only had a few hives of, and none anywhere near Downtown.

Leaving only the breeding females behind, I'd emptied those hives of every bug that could fly and deliver a payload, and set them off on their trek across town. They couldn't fly all that way, not in the timeframe I needed them to, so Dad was going to have to play bug chauffeur again. I just hoped we could get there in time for it to do any good.

As for the booster bugs around Medhall, they picked up the timely arrival of Velocity, who seemed to be conducting his patrol in the very close vicinity of that building. It was good to see that the PRT was actually taking my warning seriously. If Director Piggot had chosen to ignore me, events would be taking a distinct downturn in the very near future.

I had no guarantee that they wouldn't anyway, but at least we were doing something about it.

<><>​

Medhall Sub-Basement

Purity

"So, you all know your roles?" Max looked around the room at the members of his team. Kayden got the impression that it was a rhetorical question. The subtext was that after that presentation, nobody should be in any doubt about where they were going and what they were doing. "Bradley, how's it going with gathering the troops?"

"Fine." Hookwolf tilted his head slightly. "I've got 'em converging on the PRT building, but keeping things quiet until we get there. We bust in the front doors and our guys will swamp the guards in the lobby before they know what hit 'em."

"We have a problem." That was Krieg. "One of Victor's moles just reported in. Piggot's called a Yellow Alert, and she's getting all non-essentials out of the building. I think they know we're coming."

All eyes turned to Max; he shook his head confidently. "That's impossible. There's no way they can know what we're doing."

"They have got three of our own," Stormtiger reminded him, just before Kayden would've said the same thing.

Max looked like he was suppressing the impulse to pinch the bridge of his nose. This wasn't surprising; he hated being contradicted. "I'm aware of that, Lars, thank you very much. But it doesn't matter. It wouldn't matter even if they'd broken Victor and he was singing like a goddamn canary. They don't know what we're doing here, because he doesn't know what we're doing here. All he knows, all any of them know, is that we were making plans last night for dealing with the Samaritans. Nothing more."

"Was it in this room, too?" Kayden looked around. "Just checking."

That earned her an aggravated sigh from Max. "Yes, it was, but let's be realistic here. Even if Victor told them exactly where this room was, there is no conceivable way on Earth that they could've gotten any kind of surveillance device in here in the meantime. More to the point, if they knew where we were, they would've hit us as soon as we came down here today. So, they don't know. Understood?"

"Okay, I'll bite," Alabaster said flippantly. "If they aren't listening in on our every word, why are they going to Yellow Alert?"

"Drill." Rune had a coin with her energy signature inscribed on it, and now she made it spin in front of her. "It's gotta be, yeah? They've captured our guys before—okay, mainly Hookwolf, but he still counts—and they never locked down for them. This is probably Piggot keeping everyone on their toes by making them jump through a few hoops, make sure they don't get too confident, just because they've captured three members of the Empire." She rolled her eyes for emphasis.

"Exactly." Max pointed at her. "Well done, Tammi. You've hit the nail on the head. That's almost certainly what's going on. And in fact, it's likely to work in our favour."

Hookwolf leaned back in his chair. "How's that?"

Max frowned, like he expected everyone to have read his mind. This was one of his more annoying habits, especially when coupled with the tendency to act on his own decisions and expecting everyone around him to keep up. "It's simple. Drills disrupt everything. Nobody's going to be watching cameras, everyone's going to be running around pretending there's an emergency. And once they've finished their drill, there'll be a window where everyone's out of place and nobody knows what's going on. We can make use of that."

Kayden had to admit, his logic made sense. Of course, his logic always made sense, even when it didn't. It was one of his gifts as an orator. He could stand up in front of a crowd and say absolutely nothing for fifteen minutes straight, and they would applaud him like he'd just unveiled the secrets of the universe to them.

"Alright then," she said, when nobody else spoke up. "What's the plan for getting there?" The Empire usually did big movements at night. An assault like this was likely to be a lot more obvious in the light of day, and she couldn't help feeling that a drill could easily pivot to being the real thing if the PRT saw them coming.

"Fleet vehicles." He was actually proud of this idea, she saw, like it was a tactic worthy of Rommel. "I've already had the license plates removed. We can literally drive up to the building, decamp from the cars, and hit them before they know we're there."

"What about the Samaritans?" asked Menja. "I mean, you said this had to be their doing, somehow."

"She's got a point," Fenja added. "What if they're listening somehow, and talking to the PRT? Or waiting to ambush us?"

Max shook his head. "No. I already told you, it doesn't add up. Whatever it was the Samaritans did, they got lucky once. If they did pull a fast one on us, they've utterly failed to capitalise on it. Now that we know they're targeting us, they're going to have to be lucky all the time. We'll just keep up the bug spray until we've taken them down once and for all. Also, need I remind you that there's a reason we're doing this, and every minute we delay is a minute closer to the dissolution of the Empire Eighty-Eight?" He paused to survey the table. "Does anyone have any relevant questions?"

Kayden had many, but she suspected his idea of 'relevant' didn't match with hers, so she kept her mouth shut.

It was easier that way, around him.

<><>​

A Little Earlier

Danny

"Kurt, I have to go." Danny was already putting on his coat.

Kurt looked up from his desk. "Ah, sure, but why?"

Danny hated to lie, especially to one of his oldest friends, but it was best Kurt didn't know about this side of his life. "The school called, about Taylor. They weren't too clear about what's going on, so I'm heading over there now."

Kurt sighed and nodded. "Fucking schools, man. Okay, I got your back. Say hi to Taylor for me."

"Will do." Danny headed out to where the car was parked. Getting in, he started the engine and headed out of the parking lot. He paused at the entrance to fasten his seatbelt, then he peeled out of there.

It was standard operating procedure in the Samaritans for people who'd been out of the loop to pick things up as they went along, once they got into the loop. All Danny knew was that the Empire was planning something, and that Taylor needed him to ferry a bunch of bugs across to the Medhall building and the PRT building. The latter destination gave him a strong clue as to what the Empire was planning, but he didn't know how she knew that, or what she planned to do about it.

Fortunately, that wasn't his problem. A plan had been made, and was being executed, and his part in that plan was to move a bunch of bugs from point A to point B as quickly as possible, in between picking up his other passengers. He trusted Taylor and the others to have thought the plan through, so the bugs would be moved.

"So, where am I going?" he asked out loud. He knew there were booster bugs living in the car, able to hear his voice and make sense out of it, which meant Taylor could hear him and respond.

Moments later, he had his reply. Taylor's bugs could be incredibly useful for giving directions, even if it was a bit creepy to have beetles crawling over the inside of the windshield to tell him where to go. As he'd expected, they formed an H shape, which he knew meant 'go home', so that was where he went.

When he pulled up outside the house, Lisa and Riley were waiting for him. Each had a bulky bag slung over one shoulder. "Girls," he said as they climbed in; Lisa got into the front seat, while Riley got in the back. "I assume you've been filled in?"

"Yup." Lisa looked pleased with herself, but that was her usual expression. After she closed the door, she opened the backpack she was carrying to reveal Taylor's Ladybug costume. "Alpha said he'd pick up the girls."

"What about the bugs?" he asked. "I was told there'd be bugs."

"Bugs, we have." Riley opened her bag, and the glittering swarm poured out of it to pool over the seat and footwell next to her. "All the eff-you the Empire will ever need."

"Wow, I'm proud of you." Lisa reached back to ruffle her hair. "That was almost a swear word. Keep it up, you'll get there one day."

Danny grinned as Riley batted her hand away, but he was already pulling out onto the road.

It wouldn't take them all that long to get to Downtown, but it should be long enough to fill him in on the rest of the plan.

<><>​

Ladybug

Mr Barnes pulled up in his car, and we all piled in. He was already moving off as we put on our seatbelts. "Danny and Rod?" he asked.

I held on as he took a corner at speed. "Dad's on the way with Lisa, Riley, and a bunch of ketamine bugs. Mr Clements is heading to Arcadia to pick up Flechette, Vista and Panacea. Dad's got my costume." Mine was the bulkiest. Emma and Madison usually carried their costumes with them, at the bottom of their backpacks. Fortune, as they say, favours the prepared mind.

"What about the Empire?" He didn't look around as he asked the question, concentrating entirely on driving.

"Prepping to move out." I grimaced. "I've got a ton of bugs coming on scene, but they're in an underground garage and I just can't get enough through to bother them. Also, it looks like they'll be travelling to the PRT building in a bunch of closed vehicles."

"I have to ask, why is Riley coming along on this?" asked Emma. "She doesn't have any powers, and I'm not totally sure why we're bringing her into a supervillain-facing situation."

"We're likely to need Lisa's insights," I pointed out. "And Riley needs Lisa's encouragement to keep on being Riley and not Bonesaw, powers or no powers."

Emma nodded. "Okay, fair point."

"How about the PRT itself?" asked Mr Barnes. "Are they preparing?"

"They are," I confirmed. "They've contacted New Wave. Velocity's watching Medhall and Assault, Battery, Dauntless and Triumph are on their way to the PRT building. Pretty sure Armsmaster and Miss Militia are already there."

Madison shook her head. "I still can't believe the Empire's actually going to attack the PRT building so blatantly like this. Do they want a mass kill order?"

"One," I said. "Kaiser's arrogant as fuck. Two, they don't know their secret is already out, so they're going all-out to keep it hidden. Three, they think they can."

"Well, shit." Madison shook her head. "This is gonna be a shitshow. I can just tell."

Emma chuckled darkly. "Ya think?"

<><>​

Kaiser

Max began growing his armour on the way to the PRT building, though he held off on the spiked crown for after he got out. "Look alive, people," he said over the two-way radio that he held carefully in his metal-gauntleted hand. "When we get there, we're going to be fighting hard from the minute we leave the vehicles to when we get past the guards and pull our people out of there. Not one step back, do you hear me? We don't retreat until we get what we're here for. Hookwolf, status on your troops?"

Hookwolf's voice came over the radio loud and clear. "Got two hundred coming in, armed and ready."

"Excellent." Max checked the dashboard clock display. They were about two minutes away. "Tell them to attack now. Get into the building, any way they can. Subdue the guards, take their weapons."

"Roger that. Ordering attack now."

Leaning back in his seat as much as he could, Max smiled coldly. It was good to be the man in charge.

<><>​

Director Piggot

Looking out her office window at the city below, Emily felt the faintest nigglings of doubt. It all looked so peaceful—well, as peaceful as Brockton Bay ever got—and the warning she'd gotten was starting to feel farther and farther out of left field. Since then, she'd gotten a text from Ladybug's number—E88 coming your way in black SUVs—and that was it. While black SUVs were not exactly a dime a dozen, they weren't vanishingly rare either.

Still, she'd put the building on full Red Alert posture from that moment; she herself was armed with an assault rifle and clad in body armour in case someone like Rune decided to burst in through her office window. They would fucking regret it, she promised silently. The doubts infected her mind once more. If they're coming at all …

Her phone rang, interrupting her dark thoughts. She snatched it up from her desk, noting that it was Armsmaster calling. "Piggot."

"I've got them, ma'am. I just cracked Victor's phone, with a little assistance. I've pinpointed each phone call made to a number within this building, and I know who owns those phones. Most of them are admin staff, but two are troopers."

She wanted to throw the phone at the window, but she restrained herself. Goddamn it, traitors in my building! "Excellent work. Notify their commanding officers, then go join the defensive perimeter."

"Ma'am." He ended the call, and she slid the phone into a pouch. If she had to leave the office, she'd need it.

A moment later, in the silence, she heard the distant crackling of gunfire, filtering in through the polycarbonate windows. Who's shooting? Going as close up to the window as she could and peering downward, she saw people surging across the street. Her eyesight wasn't as good as it had once been, but she was pretty sure she saw weapons in their hands, and a whole lot of shaven heads.

Motherfuckers. They're sending in the cannon fodder first.

<><>​

Ladybug

"Shit!" I blurted the word without thinking.

Madison, half-changed into her costume, looked at me curiously. "What's the matter?"

"There's Empire rank and file, mobbing the building from all sides. I'm pretty sure some of them have explosives. Breaching charges." I concentrated on the bugs on Dad's windshield. He was close, but maintaining a safe speed in traffic. The bugs formed arrows, as I made them lift their wing cases to show their red wings. Go faster.

My regular bugs were descending on the Empire mooks, but they were fired up now and a few ant bites and bee-stings weren't going to cut it. While it was true that a good defensive position was horrifically difficult to overrun, it seemed that the Empire was willing to spend their men (and women) to do just that. The PRT troopers and on-site heroes, as well-situated as they were, were still badly outnumbered by the Empire attackers … and the villains hadn't even shown up yet.

I had to even the odds somehow; fortunately, I had anticipated the need, and the 'somehow' was approaching rapidly. Except that my swarm had picked up on the sound of gunfire, and I did not want Dad getting shot.

<><>​

Danny

Riley tilted her head. "Is it just me, or does that sound like …"

"Shots!" Lisa confirmed, just as the bugs formed a red octagon on the windshield.

Danny immediately jammed on the brakes, slewing the car to the side of the road. The PRT building was just up the street, but there were people moving toward it with grim purpose. Not all of them held guns, but they all had something in their hands.

As more shots rang out, echoing down the street, the bug swarm flowed into the air. Lisa hastily lowered the window and they poured out through the opening. The cloud they formed moved steadily toward the attackers, spreading out as it went. While the people on the street had cloths tied over their faces to protect against tear gas, it was almost impossible to cover every last inch of skin, and the ketamine bugs found that skin. One by one, in a slowly toppling wave, the people assaulting the PRT building slumped to the ground.

Danny let out a long gusty sigh. "Is it done?"

Lisa shook her head. "Not yet. The shooting is, though. Now it's just the capes."

Oh, great.

<><>​

Purity

Kayden wasn't sure if it had been Max's decision or hers for Dorothy and Geoff to ride with her, but it was probably for the best. Tammi's choice to ride with the three of them had been more of a matter of being too slow to pick a spot in another car. Krieg was driving the lead car, with Max in the passenger seat and Fenja and Menja in the back, while Alabaster drove the last one, with Hookwolf riding shotgun and Stormtiger and Cricket in the back.

She didn't know anyone except maybe Alabaster who would let Geoff or Dorothy behind the wheel of a car, so she drove. By unspoken agreement, Dorothy sat in the front passenger seat, while Tammi shared the back seat with Geoff. Nobody wanted the assortment of animated blades that was Dorothy's unseen form suddenly erupting behind the driver.

The first indication that not everything was going precisely to plan came when they rounded the corner to find the mob that had been intended to overwhelm the defenses of the PRT building, all lying unconscious in the street. The lead car pulled to a halt, probably more because Max wasn't sure what was going on than due to any particular regard for the sanctity of human life. Kayden pulled up alongside him, and Hookwolf's vehicle alongside them.

"What the shit?" demanded Tammi from the back seat. "That wasn't supposed to happen! How did they do that? Knockout gas?"

"I … have no idea." Kayden pressed the button on the A/C panel that recycled cabin air, for what it was worth. "I've never heard of them using that sort of thing. It's usually containment foam."

"What happened?" demanded Max over the radio. "Why are they all unconscious?"

"Got a better question," Hookwolf retorted. "Why's there a barricade inside the front doors?"

Kayden looked in that direction, and saw he was correct. Despite the noonday glare, she was almost certain she could see black helmets behind it. "They knew we were coming," she said over the radio. "And they knew we were going to mob the building. They were listening to us the whole time."

"That's impossible!" Max was almost screaming over the radio. "Hookwolf! One of your people must have talked! That's the only plausible explanation!"

"Bullshit. My guys are staunch. They wouldn't say shit about shit."

"Well, someone betrayed us! The evidence is right there!"

"I thought we were attacking," Geoff commented. "Why aren't we attacking?"

"Can we even attack now?" asked Rune. "I mean, they're ready for us, and they did something to knock out all those guys."

"Well, whatever's happened has fucking happened. Your call, boss-man. Which way are we jumping on this one?"

If they retreated now, Kayden knew, it would be an admission of defeat.

Lying out there on the street was almost the entire rank and file of the Empire's footsoldiers. Absent cape interference, it would be a walk in the park for the PRT to secure them all and hand them into the custody of the BBPD. The biggest hassle would be figuring out a place to house them all while awaiting trial.

Worse, they would be deprived in one fell swoop of all their useful minions; at least, those who had been willing to pick up a weapon and come to the party. And that wasn't even mentioning what they were here to do in the first place. Pulling back would essentially guarantee the end of the Empire Eighty-Eight in any meaningful form.

Kayden knew this, and she was sure Max did too.

"Shut up." Even over the radio, he sounded like he was talking through gritted teeth. "I'm thinking."

"Dearest?" said Geoff. "Should we?"

"Yes," Dorothy agreed. "We should."

And they opened their respective doors and got out of the car.

<><>​

On Top of the PRT Building

Lady Photon

"What the hell was that?" asked Neil, leaning over the edge and shading his eyes. "Did they all just … fall over?"

Shielding herself appropriately and trusting Carol to keep an eye out for approaching fliers, Sarah looked over the edge of the roof as well. The unruly mob below, which had just moments before been surging toward the building with weapons in hand, all lay on the road in attitudes suggesting that they'd just lain down to sleep where they were. There'd been no explosion or energy signature from a power, not that she'd seen anyway.

"That is odd," she agreed. "Do you think Armsmaster or Kid Win are testing some kind of new knockout munition?"

"I'm pretty sure they would've mentioned it if they had something this effective." Neil sounded dubious. "That's got to be a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred people, out like a light."

"Wait a minute." Vicky pointed down the street. "Didn't Ladybug's message say something about black SUVs?"

Sarah looked. Sure enough, three vehicles of that description were just rolling to a stop. "Do you think it's really them?"

"I bet it is." Vicky sounded positively eager. "I can go down there and pancake them if you want."

"You will do nothing of the sort." Carol's tone was definitive. "It might not be them. And if it is, I don't want you getting too close to them."

Neil frowned. "They're just sitting there. What are they up to?"

Carol snorted. "Well, wouldn't you? They've shown up to join the attack, and there's no attack to join, no human wave to hide behind. Right now, they've got to be asking themselves what they've gotten into, and trying to figure out a way out of it."

That engendered a thoughtful silence among the members of New Wave on the rooftop.

"Think they'll give up and go away?" Eric peered down at the vehicles.

Crystal shook her head and spoke authoritatively. "They can't, not and stay afloat as a gang. That's their people down there. If they leave them to be arrested and charged, the Empire loses all credibility. Also, with nobody to collect protection payments, sell the drugs, and stuff like that, they're going to lose money hand over fist."

Sarah slowly nodded her head, noting that her daughter had summed up the situation masterfully. "Well put. So they're probably going to do something—"

She'd been just about to say the word 'stupid' when Vicky pointed and shouted. "Look! Someone's getting out!"

Sure enough, both doors on one side of the middle SUV were opening, and Night and Fog emerged, fully costumed up. As soon as Fog was clear of the vehicle, he dissolved into a cloud of mist, and rolled over the top of Night. Sarah knew what that meant: no matter how deadly Fog's cloud was normally, it had just become even more so.

As if Night and Fog's actions had been a signal, all the other doors on the SUVs burst open and the rest of the Empire Eighty-Eight leaped out, ready for battle. Growing taller as Sarah watched, Menja reared back and hurled her now-gigantic spear at the closed and barricaded doors of the PRT building. With a shattering noise that Sarah heard even from where she was, it punched through.

As soon as entry had been gained, Hookwolf charged forward, razor-sharp metal covering his body from head to toe. The cloud of mist that was Fog also rolled in the direction of the breached entrance, presumably covering Night in her monster form.

Vicky lofted into the air. "I'm going—"

"Wait!" Neil grabbed her by the arm. "We're here to hold the high ground. If Purity comes up here, she could core out this building right down to ground level."

"Or from side to side." Sarah pointed at where Purity had just lit off her powers and was climbing skyward. "Kids!"

Together with her, Crystal and Eric formed the strongest field they could over the top of the building, then fired off lasers in her direction. It was hard to focus on her—spots formed in Sarah's vision each time she tried—but at least they were keeping her at a distance. Down below, the sound of shattering polycarbonate indicated that other members of the Empire were also attacking the building from the outside, until it suddenly stopped.

<><>​

Ladybug

Mr Barnes' car screeched to a halt behind Dad's. I knew Mr Clements wasn't far behind, but we needed to do something now. Purity was up above the roof of the PRT building, dodging lasers from the New Wave capes but not firing back, probably because there was an impressive-looking force-field dome in the way.

Or maybe she was just keeping their attention while Stormtiger and Rune smashed holes in the side of the building, courtesy of Stormtiger's air-claws and the car that he and Rune weren't currently using as their own personal flying carpet. Either way, Purity was too high and moving around too much for my remaining ketamine bugs (they were all alive, but only a few still had a payload of venom on board) to get to her. The other two were another matter altogether.

"Madison?" I asked, inclining my head toward the flying SUVs.

She grinned, pretending to crack her knuckles. "On it."

I couldn't see her power in action, but all my bugs felt the subtle change in air currents. It was a lot less subtle about ten storeys up, as both vehicles sheered away from the building, and Stormtiger's explosive air-claws dissipated before they could hit their target, much less explode. Rune swooped the SUVs back toward the building, but Vicky came down like a bolt from the blue, grabbing the unattended one and shoving it away.

With that assistance, Madison was able to get them to where she needed them; over a spot where the SUVs wouldn't kill any of the unconscious gang members if they fell. Rune had no defense against my ketamine bugs, and Stormtiger's had been suppressed to the point that when the vehicle fell out from under him, I was able to nail him on my first try. With more of Vicky's assistance, Madison lowered them both to the ground, avoiding the wreckage of the SUVs.

But then my bugs picked up a commotion on the rooftop.

<><>​

Laserdream

Crystal didn't pay any attention when the roof door opened and two PRT troopers emerged. While she wasn't sure exactly what they hoped to achieve through the force field, the Director probably had her reasons. Turning her attention back to the swooping, diving sun-bright flare in the sky, she took another pot-shot, and missed again.

Uncle Mark turned his head and went to say something to one of the troopers, but there was a crackling pop and he went down. Crystal spun around, looking for the origin of the new attack, but she was too late. The second taser, wielded by the other trooper, struck her dead centre and she felt every muscle convulse in a tsunami of agony.

Her part of the force field bubble dissipated as she collapsed, unable to control her twitching muscles. The trooper who had tased her grabbed Eric around the neck from behind and shoved a pistol up under his ear, while his buddy aimed an assault rifle at her. "Drop the force fields now!" bellowed the first one. "Do it, or the kids get it!"

"Mom!" screamed Eric. "Dad! Help!"

"Don't even think about it, kid," growled the trooper. "I see even a hint of a laser, I put a bullet in your head. Force fields! Down! Now!"

The force fields wavered, then vanished. "Don't hurt my babies!" Crystal's mother held out her hands pleadingly. "Please! They're just kids!"

"Shouldn't've brought 'em into a war zone, then." The faux trooper raised his voice. "Now, Purity! Blast 'em!"

Purity came to a hover, or at least the sun-bright glare steadied in the corner of Crystal's vision. But when she spoke, she said just one word.

"No."



End of Part Thirty-Seven

[A/N: Evil cliffhanger is evil. Mwahahaha.]

 

[Sto Odin]

I dunno, is it an evil cliffhanger when someone is taking a (decisive, I hope) step away from evil?

Interesting to see where this goes.

 

[Prince Charon]

There was another mental jolt as she recalled that acceding to this … expedition? Excursion? Mission? Whatever the hell it was, once her unmistakeable power signature was seen to be part of the Empire attack on the PRT building, all the work she'd put into being a hero would be gone. The world would forever see her as a villain again.

Click to shrink...

I'm not sure if it's more 'sad' or 'darkly amusing' that Kayden thinks the things that she's done since quitting the E88 has had any meaningful effect on changing her reputation with the law or the public.

"Shouldn't've brought 'em into a war zone, then." The faux trooper raised his voice. "Now, Purity! Blast 'em!"

Purity came to a hover, or at least the sun-bright glare steadied in the corner of Crystal's vision. But when she spoke, she said just one word.

"No."

Click to shrink...

Until this point, anyway. Refusing at this point takes courage, and would probably be made note of at her trial, especially if she becomes cooperative from this point on. Of course, if she doesn't, all she gets is a reputation as a villain who won't kill white kids.

 

[Ack]

I'm not sure if it's more 'sad' or 'darkly amusing' that Kayden thinks the things that she's done since quitting the E88 has had any meaningful effect on changing her reputation with the law or the public.


Until this point, anyway. Refusing at this point takes courage, and would probably be made note of at her trial, especially if she becomes cooperative from this point on. Of course, if she doesn't, all she gets is a reputation as a villain who won't kill white kids.

Click to shrink...

Doesn't really matter if she's made a difference. She's still put the work in. Sunk cost and all that.

And the mole was telling her to blast the adults, not the kids.

 

[Prince Charon]

Doesn't really matter if she's made a difference. She's still put the work in. Sunk cost and all that.

Click to shrink...

I was more reacting to her apparently seriously believing, based on the quoted section, that she did have an effect.

And the mole was telling her to blast the adults, not the kids.

Click to shrink...

Ah.

 

[Ack]

I was more reacting to her apparently seriously believing, based on the quoted section, that she did have an effect.


Ah.

Click to shrink...

Well, she's had an effect, by definition. She's done something, and damaged ABB property.

A lasting effect? Probably not.