AN: This happened because I thought that Ankh-Morpork would be the perfect place for the Warehouse. Mostly just that, so a knowledge of Discworld is not necessary. Set during the events of Men At Arms. Obligatory disclaimer that I don't own anything Warehouse or Discworld related, etc. etc.
Constable Myka Bering ran through the streets of Ankh-Morpork, (well to say streets was rather generous, as they were more like alleys in this part of the Shades,) chasing a shadowy figure. She knew Claudia was behind her, although the Lance-Constable was nearly a block back, leaving it up to Myka to not lose their quarry in the maze of dark alleys. So she ran, pushing her long legs are hard as they could go, around corners and through gardens and even over a couple of walls, slowly gaining ground.
They had been investigating an artifact, a weapon that had been stolen from the Assassins Guild: the gonne, an artifact that drove the user insane with the power to kill. They had tracked it to an Assassin with an obsession with the rightful king of Ankh-Morpork, but then Captain Vimes of the Night Watch and his men had gotten involved, which had complicated matters, because while Myka and the other Warehouse agents were technically members of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, Captain Vimes wasn't actually aware of that fact, and it was best kept that way.
And then the idiot with the artifact had decided to shoot the Patrician in front of half the city watch at Captain Vimes' wedding, and things went all to hell. Pete and the new guy had followed the Assassin and Vimes down into the old sewers to try to snag the artifact, and when Myka surveyed the scene, she had noticed someone in black leaving a little too quickly, which had lead to her current situation, because if Myka had learned anything in her time in the Watch prior to being recruited to the Warehouse, it was that anyone lurking suspiciously around a crime scene was probably guilty of something.
As she pushed herself over a small wall and followed her quarry through one of the Seamstresses Guild's Houses of Negotiable Affection, Myka remembered just how much she hated chases. "City Watch! Out of the way!" she yelled as she dodged several of the ladies and their clients, her legs burning, and her breath starting to catch in her lungs. Up the two flights of stairs they went. At the top, Myka saw the figure clamber out of a bedroom window onto the roof of the next building. Myka followed, hastily shouting an apology to the very startled looking couple that had been occupying the room.
Up and over the roof and over the short gap onto the next they ran, one after the other, Myka slowly gaining ground, until they reached a particularly wide alley that couldn't be easily jumped over. The constable raised her crossbow and slowly approached the figure, who was standing on the edge of the roof, as if considering the three story drop below.
"In the name of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, you are under arrest!" Myka declared, less authoritatively than she would have liked due to the raggedness of her breath.
The figure turned around to face the constable, hands raised, revealing a woman with dark hair and pale, delicate features. Recognition tugged at Myka, but it took her a moment to place the face staring back at her, because she had only seen the small, faded iconograph that had been in the "People to Watch Out For" section of the manual.
"You're HG Wells," Myka leveled her crossbow at the woman, receiving only a slight nod and a smirk for confirmation. "What were you doing in Sartor Square?" Myka demanded.
"I was out for a morning stroll through the city. It was pure coincidence that I happened to be there when the Patrician was attacked. Surely there's nothing illegal about that?" the other woman asked a bit too innocently. Myka felt like she was being toyed with, which she did not enjoy, and she was not about to play along.
"There is when you're wanted for the deaths of three watchmen in that city."
HG cocked her head to side and laughed ruefully. "Is that how they're telling it these days?"
"What does that mean?"
"Just that there's always more than one way to tell a story."
Myka was curious about what she meant, and she felt herself lower her crossbow ever so slightly, but she didn't have time to play games.
"You still haven't answered my question. What were you doing at the Square today? Because I don't believe in coincidences."
"I would say I was attending a society wedding, but it seems I can get nothing past you, Constable Bering. The truth it is then." Myka was taken aback by the fact that HG Wells knew her name, but she her desire for a proper explanation of the day's events overrode it, so she let the other woman continue.
"There have been some rumblings, among certain unsavory elements, that something big is about to happen here. Someone is collecting artifacts and releasing them into the world, and that is something that neither you nor I can abide. So I came back to the city to investigate. I was on the trial of the same artifact as you were today, which is why I was at the Square. Difficult as it may be for you to believe, I was trying to assist you."
Just then Claudia came bursting onto the roof, having finally caught up to them, her standard issue short sword pointed at their quarry.
"Sorry I'm late, took me forever to find the right building. Thanks for waiting for me to snag this baddie."
Claudia's rather sudden appearance startled Myka, making her realize just how entranced she had been by HG's voice. She was still suspicious of her motives, because it took more than a couple of cryptic comments to make Myka Bering trust a wanted murderer, but there was something about her that unsettled Myka, and made her want to believe what she was being told. If nothing else, it was useful information, which was something that was often in short supply.
"Actually Claud, she was just telling me-" but HG cut Myka off.
"That would be my cue to leave. It was ever so nice meeting you Constable Bering, Lance-Constable Donovan." With that, the mysterious woman nodded at them and stepped off the edge of the roof.
By the time they got to where she had been standing, she was already gone, disappearing down a maze of alleys.
"How did she survive that fall?" Claudia asked.
Myka looked down, assessing the scene. "She must have caught herself on that window sill and then dropped onto that cart." She pointed to the delivery cart parked in front of the building. "Dammit." She hated having to return to the Warehouse empty handed, especially when she had been so close to getting some real information.
"Wait, Mykes, was that…" Claudia trailed off, trying to place the familiar face.
"HG Wells…Yeah it was."
"What's she doing back in the city? And why was she in Sartor Square? And what did she say to you?" Claudia questioned. Myka studied the streets below, trying to pick out the moving figure of HG Wells, but she had disappeared and even the midday sun couldn't help Myka find her.
"She said she wants to help us. She said she was chasing the same artifact we were to try and return it to the Warehouse."
"Try and use it to destroy the world more like," Claudia said as she sheathed her short sword and headed towards the window she had used to get to the roof.
"I don't know, Claud" Myka replied, following Claudia back into the house. "I don't know what she's up to, but she seemed like she's really trying to help. She told me someone is collecting artifacts and sending them out into the world. It makes sense. I mean, how else would something as powerful as the gonne make it out of the Assassin's Guild?"
"A crazy dude with a swamp dragon, maybe?" Claudia retorted, and Myka could feel her rolling her eyes as they made their way out onto the street. She was surprised when Claudia turned to face her, a resigned look on her face. "I don't know Mykes, do you really think HG Well's was telling the truth? She is wanted in the deaths of three Warehouse agents, which doesn't exactly make her the most trustworthy source in my book."
"Yeah, I do. I don't know what it is, but it seemed like she was really trying to help us. I don't trust her, but it felt like she was telling the truth." She didn't have a reason other than a gut feeling that HG didn't mean to hurt them. Maybe this was how Pete felt when he got vibes. She didn't like it, but it was better than the nothing they had otherwise.
Claudia met Myka's eyes and nodded. "Alright then. If you say she's telling the truth, I believe it. Now we just have to come up with a way to tell Artie that the Warehouse's most wanted is back in town and we let her get away without him murdering us."
The thought of telling Artie what had happened turned Myka's stomach, because it would threaten the hard earned trust Artie had in her.
"Yeah…How about we go find out what happened to the boys before we head back to the Warehouse? Knowing Pete, they're probably lost in those old sewers by now."
They caught up with Pete and the new guy outside of the Assassins Guild.
"Dude, what happened? Did a troll get his hands on that thing?" Claudia asked when she saw the splintered remains of the gonne that they had neutralized.
"Naw," Pete replied. "Just that big corporal. Turnip? He killed Dr. Cruces and smashed the gonne to keep anyone else from using it."
"Carrot, Pete. His name is Carrot." Myka said. "And what do you mean he killed Dr. Cruces? What does the head of the Assassin's have to do with this?"
"Turns out Cruces was the baddie almost all along. He killed the guy who stole the gonne and used it to try and put Corporal Rutabaga on the throne. Something about him being the rightful king of Ankh-Morpork." Pete shrugged and handed the remains of the artifact to Steve. "Artie's going to be upset that we weren't able to snag it before Cabbage smashed it, but we got swarmed by angry Assassins and it was all we could do not to be inhumed."
"Yeah, Artie's really not going to be happy about this one," Myka sighed as they headed back towards the Warehouse.
"What do you mean you let HG Wells get away?" Myka did her best not to shrink away from Artie's wrath as he fumed around his office. He had been able to live with the gonne being destroyed, because at least they had managed to snag the remains, but he was very much not happy about Myka's report of the day's events.
"Well I didn't let her get away, so much as failed to prevent her escape," Myka said in a futile attempt to placate her boss. "Besides, I don't think she trying to hurt us. She said she was tracking some other person who's stealing artifacts and releasing them."
"That's a likely story. She probably just wanted the gonne for herself."
Myka could see the sense in what he was saying, but she couldn't help but think that his reaction was a bit over the top.
"If she had wanted the gonne, don't you think she would have gone into the sewers after it? She said she was trying to help us, and I believe her." Myka could tell that she was losing Artie, but she wasn't about to back down now.
"That woman," Artie practically spat the word as he finally stopped pacing and gave Myka a withering look, "is not to be trusted. Under any circumstances. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Myka looked away, knowing that Artie could see right through her evasion.
"Good. And don't forget it. Because next time you let HG Wells slip through your fingers you're going to be on inventory duty for year."
Taking that as her cue to leave, Myka nodded and left Artie's office. She knew she shouldn't trust HG Wells, she was a Person to Look Out For after all and she had caused the deaths of the agents that had worked in the Warehouse before her, but Myka couldn't shake the feeling that HG had been right, and that there was more going on with the gonne than a crazy dude with a swamp dragon and an ambitious Assassin.
Commander Samuel Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch was not happy. Since the damned Patrician had promoted him to Commander of the Watch, it seemed like all he did was paperwork, and the only thing he hated more than paperwork was paperwork that didn't add up.
According to the pay slips that he signed each week, he was paying for four constables and a sergeant to staff the 13th Street Watch House, which he was nearly certain didn't exist. He had been in the Watch for twenty odd years and he had never heard of a 13th Street Watch House. In fact, he had never heard of a 13th Street in the city, and he could navigate every street in the damned place with his eyes closed.
He had asked the Patrician about it, the Vetinari had told him that there are some things that were above his pay grade, and his own attempts to investigate came up empty. So now he sat in his office, wondering just what would happen if he stopped signing the papers related to the mysterious watch house.
"Commander Vimes. It has come to my attention that you have been looking for some information."
Vimes looked up with a start. He could have sworn he didn't hear anyone come in, but the woman standing in front of him proved otherwise. She had the dark skin of someone from Howondaland, with a mass of dark hair piled on top of her head, but she dressed like one of the old ladies from Cockbill Street where he had grown up. It had been a long time since Vimes had seen someone be quite so imposing in pink tweed, and the part of his brain responsible for preventing certain death kicked in and he shot to attention faster than he would have thought possible, knocking over his chair in the process.
"Yessir," he said, adopting much the same tone he did while talking to Vetinari and looking just past her left ear. "Is this about the 13th Street Watch House, sir?"
"Yes. I generally don't hand out knowledge of it's existence, but I fear if I don't tell you, you'll find it yourself. Someone will be sent over to take you there tomorrow, and I'm sure I can count on your discretion in this matter."
"Yessir." There was a crash outside his door, and the sound of Corporal Nobbs swearing came up the stairs of the Watch House. By the time he looked back at the woman, she was gone, even though Vimes could have sworn that he only looked away from a second.
It was half-past noon the next day when a knock came at his office door. He had almost forgotten about his visitor the night before until a solemn faced you man in a watch uniform who he didn't recognize opened the door.
"Who are you then?" Vimes asked.
"Constable Steve Jinks. Mrs. Frederic sent me to escort you to the Watch House." The young man replied, not at all phased by Vimes' gruff demeanors.
"Mrs. Frederic is the scary lady in the pink tweed?" Vimes liked having a name to put to the face, and his inner policeman was already working to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
"The very same." Jinks replied as he lead the way out of Pseudopolis Yard into the busy streets of the city.
Vimes followed Jinks through a maze a twisting alleys off of Treacle Mine Road, past Unseen University and the Tower of Art and into the heart of the Shades. Vimes could have sworn that he knew every inch of Ankh-Morpork, but as they made their way towards a small door set into the side of an unassuming building, he realized that he had lost his sense of direction several turns ago and only had a vague idea where they were, something that made him very uneasy.
As they approached the door, it swung open and a stout man with the grumpy face and stripes of a sergeant stepped out to meet them.
"Commander Vimes. I was wondering when you'd finally catch up with us. I'm Sergeant Nielson, agent in charge of the Warehouse." Vimes looked at the sergeant, trying to keep the confusion off of his face as he was shown through to a tunnel that lead down into darkness.
"What's this about a warehouse? I thought this was a Watch House? Is this some prank pulled by the bloody dwarves?"
"It's no prank, but much of the Warehouse is underground, not unlike dwarf mines," Sergeant Nielson explained as the tunnel opened into a warmly lit office space. "The Watch House is just a cover to recruit personnel and discourage criminals. In reality, this is a warehouse designed to house dangerous artifacts and keep them out of the city."
The pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place for Vimes as he looked around the office at the three other constables spread out throughout the room. "Artifacts like the gonne?" he asked.
"Exactly like the gonne. Objects imbued with power through some event. We hunt down artifacts that are potentially harmful and keep them here, away from the public. I like to think of the Warehouse as Ankh-Morpork's Attic."
Vimes watched with amusement as the other watchmen mouth along with Nielson as he said "Ankh-Morpork's Attic."
"Who are these lot then?"
"These are the Warehouse agents responsible for keeping the city safe," Nielson replied, obviously annoyed at the mockery. Vimes could tell that Nielson was straining to make a good impression, but he knew that this wasn't a place were discipline was highly valued, which made him like the grumpy old sergeant despite himself.
"Constable Steve Jinks you've already met." The man who had shown him to the Warehouse nodded amiably at Vimes. "The rest of this lot are Constable Pete Lattimer," Nielson gestured at a dark haired man sprawled across a sofa, "Constable Myka Bering," a serious looking woman leaning against a desk, "and Lance-Constable Claudia Donovan," a young woman with short red hair who was tinkering with something mechanical. Recognition tugged at Vimes when she looked up from her work.
"Didn't I arrest you last year for breaking into the print-maker's guildhall?"
Lattimer laughed and the young woman shrugged before turning back to her work. "I put everything back. Eventually."
"Never mind them. They're trouble makers and not the reason you're here." Nielson ushered him through the office and out a door in the far wall onto a balcony. It over looked an enormous cavern that stretched into the darkness. Vimes had never seen a space so large, and wondered how much of the city was over the Warehouse. Shelves were packed into all the available space, filled with stuff, and a large windmill turned lazily in the distance.
"This is why you're here, Commander Vimes. Mrs. Frederic thought that it was time you know what we do." Nielson explained as Vimes tried not to gape at the impossible sight before him. "She thought that it was time you see endless wonder."