One week ago:
Thomas Calvert grimaced, dismissing the other option as the events spiraled out of control. It looked like things were going well, his distraction issued and they moved to take the girl, but she evaded the soldiers somehow and lead them right into the middle of a conflict between the Empire Eighty-Eight and the ABB before he could have them pull back.
He sat at his desk, doing paperwork as he considered this and the day to come. Perhaps she was sighting his attempts and using her ability somehow to evade his men. No matter. He could try again tomorrow, or as often as he needed to. If she escaped again, he'd be able to eliminate options for her. It was only a matter of time until there was no way for her to avoid capture.
Six days ago:
A second time. Irritating, but little more. He had identified the methods she used this time and would advice his men to be alert for them.
Five days ago:
A third time? This was progressing past irritation. But it only reaffirmed that having her in his possession would grant him an unbeatable edge. Still, he had the advantage and could try as many times as he wanted without anyone the wiser. The advantage was his, always.
Four days ago:
How? This was becoming absurd.
Three days ago:
Coil collapsed the timeline, shaking his head in disgust. Perhaps he needed to take a more active role in all of this. Something to consider.
Two days ago:
... He was glad that only he recalled these events. His men would quit if they did.
One day ago:
A birdbath? Really?
Today:
ABB and Empire Eighty-Eight were fighting over territory or whatever insipid plan they had. Perfect. This time, he would direct more actively. He sent messages to his vassals and dispatched his soldiers, with a double operating as Coil so that he could focus on using his powers and relaying results to them. Finally, the girl would be in his grasp.
He kept an ear on the radio reports and other sources, noting exactly when Wards and Protectorate stretched their numbers even thinner to address the issues his vassals had created.
Perfect.
"Move in," he said into the headset, turning his attention to the camera feeds they were carrying with them. In the other, he had them wait. They forced into the house roughly but quickly, aiming to disable any adult occupants before they could react. Then it was just a matter of taking her from her room.
A grimace appeared on his face as conversation was exchanged between his double and the parents. The father had a weapon. He noted that for reference and watched as the mother started fighting as well. The primary camera was damaged, the picture becoming static-distorted and he switched to another, observing the signs of a scuffle and then shouting. The father yelling for his soon to be pet to run.
A door slamming somewhere in the background, then swearing from his double and bullets rang out. Followed by two thuds.
"Report." he said coldly.
"The parents are down," was the reply. "And the girl is on the run."
He paused a moment, listening to the reports he was getting on the disturbances and how the Protectorate, PRT, and Wards were occupied. This was not optimal, but if he made full use of his power now, committed to this course, he could leverage victory. With the authorities occupied, he would never have such a perfect arrangement of distractions in his favor.
"Pursue. I will relay instructions as needed," he said, dismissing the choice where they had waited at his orders. He divided again, observing as the soldiers moved efficiently in direction of his goal.
What followed took longer than he expected. But it again reaffirmed his decision. Tired, dirty, likely in a great deal of pain from using her power, the girl led them on a merry chase. He split constantly, choosing the best options that narrowed her avenues down. She was canny, but too young to fully leverage her gifts to their fullest. It was only a matter of time until she was cornered.
He noted that his double was growing more irritated. Unsurprising, the girl was proving quite resourceful and seeing her escape repeatedly had to be an annoyance when you were that close to the situation.
A report came in that she had gone down a one-way street. He checked the street map, noting that it opened onto a road that had no outlet. He gave instructions to move some of the soldiers around and block off the road so she would be pinned against the buildings. It was over. The men moved forward in both timelines, one aggressively, the other cautiously.
The aggressive option turned into a cacophony of screams so fast he blinked twice, watching as they had moved to subdue a bystander that was tending to his pet. Noise overloaded the earpiece and he swore, jerking it away even as the video feeds died. He collapsed that, staring at the scene.
What had just happened?
A frown appeared. There was a boy... no, a girl.. standing near his pet.
"Intimidate," he said, splitting just before he gave the instructions.
"Nowhere else to run," his double said. "You there, step away from the girl."
In the other:
"Offer compensation for her to back away." he said. Whatever had happened, he was confident the girl was involved, but it had occurred so fast that the cameras had given him little to work with.
"You, move," the double said. "This is not your business. Twenty grand to walk away and leave her to us."
She laughed. The sound sent a chill down his spine even as he stood there, distant. His double said something else, offering more and she answered with something profane, moving in front of the girl. He stared at the image, memorising her appearance. Slender. Dark hair, curls. A high school student? She seemed about the right age, but none of the female Wards matched her appearance.
His attention refocused and cursed his lack of it for a moment. Lacking direction from him, his double had carried on, his efforts offending the girl. She had decided his double's intent was that of the lowest scum, judging from her invective. He gave the order to attack, watching closely.
Bullets shot at the girl, carefully aimed to avoid his pet. The brunette didn't flinch, or try to evade. And yet nothing touched her. There were several screams and five of his windows with feeds went dark. What had happened? Deflected the bullets back at them?
The girl was smiling now, and it was not a pleasant smile. It stretched a bit too far and he thought her eyes had shrunk a little. Her lips moved and then, just like before, everything went to hell.
He collapsed to the first.
"If you know what's good for you," the girl said. "You'll turn around and leave."
"We're taking the girl," his double retorted.
"No," she told him, "you aren't."
He split again.
"Rook, Bishop, and Knight," he said. "Move forward. Flanking. Bishop, attempt to subdue her with a taser."
In the other:
"Flash grenades," he ordered. They were deployed, then rebounded before ever reaching her. Several cameras shorted out and those that remained gave him hints of fire in counterpoint to screams from his stand-in. He grimaced, observing the other.
The three men approached, keeping equal distance from one another. Bishop moved to taser her. Before he reached her, he fell back, choking off a scream. A glance at one of the other feeds showed that his hand had been pulverised, the fingers bent at odd angles. Still the girl hadn't visibly done anything but stand there. Telekinesis of some sort?
A moment and the three crashed to the ground before his stand-in. Calvert grimaced. He had committed, but this was rapidly degenerating and his splits so far hadn't yielded any better results. Best to call this a wash and arrange for the recovery of his men. He began sending a message.
"So," he heard his stand-in say, apparently at a loss after several minutes without input from him. The soldiers opened fire and the girl held out a hand. Thomas Calvert released a loud profanity at the image before him as the bullets all slowed to a stop in the air before her.
What the hell sort of bullshit was this?
Then, to compound matters, she plucked one from the air, looked at it for a moment, and let it fall. The rest dropped a moment later.
"Last chance. Go away and leave her alone."
"Parlor tricks," his stand-in snarled. "Take her out! Triple pay!"
And now, the girl took action again. She stamped her foot and all of his cameras but the one giving intermittent bursts of static with his stand-in died as a sound like stone rending came over the speakers. He managed to piece together that the fool was running when there was a choked cry and that camera went out as well.
Thomas Calvert gave the now blank screens a disgusted look, then turned to answer the phone that began ringing a short time later.
"Thomas Calvert here," he said.
"Mr. Calvert, this is Danica Wilson with the PRT," a pleasant voice said. He checked the number that had been called, confirming that it was related to his company.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"We've got a bit of a situation and needed to request your assistance, please," she said. "Standard rates apply. I'm forwarding the location info, if you could meet me there to assist in containment?"
He glanced as it came across his email, eyeing the location. It was where his men had gone down. And the PRT wanted his assistance in clearing things. He split timelines.
"Certainly, Agent Wilson," he said smoothly. "I'll be there shortly." In the other, he offered agents, but politely declined being able to come personally. If they knew that he was Coil, he would know and be mindful of this. If not, well ...
Perhaps he would be able to gather something from this debacle.
Taylor Hebert.
So that was her name. This irritant that had ruined his acquisition of his tool. He mused on that while he let the medics tend to the injury he had taken in 'Coil's escape. Once that was done, he delivered his printed report of the escape and went home. Once he was securely within his own walls, he dropped the timeline where he had not gone out at Agent Wilson's request. It was unneeded now.
Then, he picked up the phone and dialed a number.
Three rings and a voice answered.
"Ms. Livsey," he said urbanely. "I have a task for you."
