Disclaimer : Sonic the Hedgehog is owned by Sega Corporation. I do not claim ownership of Sonic the Hedgehog, Sonic Adventure, or any characters, locations, or concepts contained therein. I do assert ownership of any characters, locations, or concepts originating within this work.

Thanks to The Great Gonzales for Beta-Reading for me. I really appreciate it.

Chapter 14: Divisions and Decisions

"There is no certainty, only opportunity."

V

Susan Hayson waited patiently as the council members took their seats around the conference room. The antique mahogany table they gathered around had been in the service of Station Square for decades, and had seemed doomed to collect dust when the Old Hall was retired. The city council, however, rescued it from that fate and had obstructed any attempt to have it replaced. Over the years it had required dozens of repairs, and very little of the legs were of the original construction, but the worn wooden surface still survived. Despite herself, Susan felt a surge of pleasure as she let her hands run across the earthy material. The wood had had a history; a history she was now a part of.

All too soon, she remembered why they were all here and sighed. She looked up as the last of the council members took their seats and glanced around at the assembled faces.

It wasn't the whole council. It was after all, merely an informal meeting, and the issue at hand was beyond the purview of those not present. Besides, if the mayor of Station Square called an emergency meeting of the entire council, it might cause people to wonder just what they were meeting about. As it was, only three members were present.

"Okay," she said finally, not bothering to raise her voice, "I'm sure we all know most of the details, so let's get straight to it. Jonas, have your people put an estimate together?"

All eyes turned to the thin, balding Director of Public Works, Jonas Darels, who nodded before pulling a stack of papers out of his briefcase. "We, ah, have a preliminary cost estimate, Ma'am. Exclusive of government property, we've estimated somewhere between six-hundred and, ah, eight-hundred thousand dollars. That's only an initial estimate, but the majority of the properties are insured, so there shouldn't be a problem if those number change."

"And what about the Old Hall?"

Jonas leafed through his papers, fingers running over the pages with practiced ease. "Ah, well, we actually got off pretty light there. There are some metal fragments in the outer wall, but we have people already working on that. The real problems going to be the, ah, windows. The blast blew most of them out, and it tore up a bit of the furniture with it. Fortunately, there isn't a lot of damage there either, so we should be able to have it cleaned up in about a month." He paused to adjust his glasses. "There is also considerable damage to the street itself where the explosion took place, and we'll probably have to, ah, close down the street for the time being. I don't know if you've heard, but we've got a pretty big crater there now. Pessimistically, we could be looking at several million to repair all the damage."

Susan nodded. Janet, the Director of Finance, wasn't going to be happy about how that would do to the budget. Still, she'd just have to cross that bridge when she came to it. And that was likely to be the least of it in a moment.

She turned to the other man at the table and felt a brief flicker of distaste. If she'd had a choice, she would never have considered calling him to something as important as this. Unfortunately, she couldn't conceive of any logical reason to exclude the Police Commissioner from this particular meeting.

Steven Worth was easily the largest individual in the room, and his broad-shouldered physique was impressive, though it was clear he had put on quite a bit of weight recently, little of it muscle. His silver-gray hair was beginning to show signs of aging, and sitting hunched over in his cushioned seat, he reminded her of nothing less than a silver-haired gorilla. Especially since he tended to act like one, earning him the unsavory nickname "Old Silver-back."

"Commissioner," she said, "you briefed me last night on the situation, but the incident was still fresh, and details were still coming in. Do you have anything to add?"

Worth's mouth tightened momentarily, shuffling the papers in front of him briefly before he spoke. "I'm afraid I do, Madame Mayor. At this time, I must regretfully inform you that two officers, Officers Bradmen and Knox, have passed away. In addition, there are still three officers still in critical condition."

Susan frowned. "Bradmen? I was under the impression that he just had broken ribs. What happened?"

"Apparently, he suffered a heart attack, shortly after he was admitted to the hospital." He grimaced. "It's likely that the injury exacerbated his condition, but it's possible the two are not even connected."

Susan shook her head. "I see," she said after a moment. "And how do things stand now?"

"At this time, we have a total of twenty-two officers deceased, and eleven more seriously wounded. In addition, we also have eight more officers who have been discharged from the hospital after having suffered minor injuries." He paused. "There are also at least twenty department vehicles destroyed or damaged beyond repair. Because of the confusion that followed the explosion, we are still working to confirm these number."

Despite herself, Susan flinched at the numbers. She'd expected it, but that didn't make it any more horrific. It was the worst incident in the history of the Station Square PD.

And it happened on her watch.

"Um," Jonas spoke up nervously, "have we determined that the, ah, creature is dead?"

Worth shuffled his papers needlessly, and Susan knew he was just buying time. "At this time," he began cautiously, "we have insufficient evidence to make a definitive statement. However, based on Officer Johnson's account, as well as corroborating materials at the scene, we are operating under the assumption it is no longer a threat."

Susan fought not to roll her eyes. In other words, 'I hope so, but I'm not sticking my neck out to say so.' Towards the end, though, her eyes began to narrow. There was something in his eyes a second ago… "How is Officer Johnson?" she asked casually.

"He was discharged." Worth said after a moment's hesitation. "We had him checked out, and it seems he's suffered only minor burns."

"Well," she replied, "there's some good news."

Again, that flash of something in his expression. Something that looked surprisingly close to contempt. Perhaps I should look into this Officer Johnson, she thought to herself. When I have more time, that is.

"There is something else, ma'am," a voice said respectfully, and she glanced over at the speaker.

At nearly seventy years old, Molly Baide was the oldest person on the council, and also the City Attorney. Though age had diminished her vitality and whitened her hair, it had done nothing to halt her vigor. She was one of the most outspoken members of the council, and one to whom other members looked to for guidance.

"From what I've heard," she began softly, "we still don't know exactly what happened. But we do know that, whatever that thing was, it took everything we could dish out and kept coming. Including, she cast a side-long glance in Worth's direction, "two entire SWAT teams."

The commissioner's eyes narrowed. "Teams," he said stiffly, "which were shot down before they could engage it."

"But they were shot down, Commissioner," she reminded him pointedly, "and we still don't know how. For that matter, we don't even know for sure it's dead."

"And your point is?" Worth ground out irritably.

"My point is, if this thing isn't gone, or another one shows up, what can your officers do about it?"

Worth opened his mouth angrily, and then hesitated.

Molly snorted. "That's what I thought. It's quite clear there is little more your department can contribute, if past performance is any indication."

Susan cursed silently as she watched Worth's eyes flare, and she knew she had to head this off before things got out of control. She didn't need the council at each other's throats on top of everything else going on. Might as well take the ribbons off now anyway. "I don't think that will be a problem," She said as casually as she could manage.

Everyone turned to her in surprise. Molly blinked, and then her eyes narrowed. "What makes you say that?" She asked suspiciously. "Do you know something we don't?"

Susan returned her incredulous stare coolly, and then shook her head. "No, but I reached the same conclusion last night. So I put in a call to S-7."

Silence filled the conference room. Worth gaped at her in horror, while Molly seemed too shocked for words. Then the older woman shook herself and affixed her with a stern gaze. "Ma'am, with all due respect, you would need to declare a formal state of emergency to request intervention. With all the rumors that must be swirling, doing so could start a panic! Do you really want that?"

Susan met the gaze of the older woman, and then smiled. "Of course not. And I didn't say I requested their assistance. I merely invited them to conduct training maneuvers outside the city."

Jonas grunted in appreciation, and Molly suddenly looked thoughtful. S-7 was the designation for the GUN division stationed at Alamar Summit, one of Station Square's neighboring cities. Strategically placed to be able to respond to various military threats, GUN forces could only be ordered by the president, but a mayor could request intervention from local forces during a declared emergency. By using the pretext of training maneuvers, they would be within arm's reach if something happened, and she wouldn't have to declare that emergency to get them there. It could only be done if the commanding officer was willing to play along, but if she pulled it off, she could quietly prepare for disaster without causing a panic.

"Elegant." Molly admitted after a moment. "Of course, it can't work forever. They can't 'conduct maneuvers' forever, and people would catch on if they tried."

"They wouldn't have to." Susan pointed out. "We only need to confirm we have the situation under the control. And I don't think that will take too long, right, Commissioner?"

Commissioner Worth nodded numbly, though she thought she saw a flicker of anger in his expression. Technically, she should have consulted with him before making the decision, though keeping the whole thing unofficial meant she hadn't been required to. Still, she expected she'd have to deal with him fairly soon. He wasn't the sort of man to take such a thing lying down.

But for now, at least, he wasn't a threat, and she turned back to the meeting at hand

"Well, now that that's settled, there are some other things we need to discuss. I'm giving a press conference at ten, and-"

Several hours later, Susan's secretary opened the door. "Commissioner Worth is here to see you, ma'am."

That was fast, Susan thought drily. She glanced over at the clock and thanked heaven for tight schedules. "Tell him I have an appoint-"

The woman jumped back with a squeak as the door opened behind her and Worth stepped through, and his eyes said plainly that he didn't give a damn what she was doing. Waving the secretary out, she waited for her to close the door before facing the man before her with a tight smile. "What can I do for you, Commissioner?"

Worth's eyes blazed at the pointed use of his office, and despite herself, she felt a surge of satisfaction. The last municipal election, only eight months behind them, had been close. She had been the Director of Education, advertising her successful campaign to eliminate wasteful spending, while he'd cited lower crime numbers during his tenure. In the end, the last minute revelation of "irregularities" in the tax records of a certain Steven Worth had led him to drop out of the mayoral race. Unfortunately, he had run essentially unopposed for his current position, which means she would have to put up with him at least until the next election. But despite the good graces that allowed him to keep his office, he clearly resented her for "stealing" the election from him.

Which only made the current situation worse.

"Madame Mayor, I must protest-"

"You will protest nothing, Commissioner," she broke in firmly. "Especially when you come barging into my office uninvited."

"Ma'am," he said, seeming to bite off every word, "whether you like it or not, I am the Police Commissioner here in Station Square. And that means that protecting this city is my job. If you think you can simply go over my head to make these kinds of decisions, you're sadly mistaken."

Susan felt her pasted-on smile slip a fraction. "If I understand correctly," she explained calmly, "you were rather occupied last night, trying to contain the situation. I believed you didn't need the additional distraction."

"With all due respect, ma'am," he objected tightly, "that wasn't your call to make."

"Yes, Commissioner, it is my call." His eyes flared, but she ignored it, continuing to speak in the same, level tone of voice. "I'm the one sitting in this chair, and that means this city is my responsibility. Regardless of whether or not you should have been informed. I acted within the law and in the best interest of the people of this city."

"One person in particular."

Susan stiffened in outrage. "And what do you mean by that?"

Worth snorted and sat down across from her, eyes filled with contempt. "You don't think I see what you're doing? You're calling those troops in to show me up; to say how 'incompetent' and 'irresponsible' I've been."

Susan stared at him. This was something new from him, and the suddenness of it took her off guard. "I can assure you, Steven," she replied, using his first name for perhaps the first time, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Even if it was true, what possible reason could I have for doing it?"

"What reason?" he snarled. "You don't think I know it was you that dug up those tax records? The one who oh-so-conveniently gave them to the press just before the vote? Ha! You can play the impassioned statesman all you want, but I know the truth. You want me gone, don't you?"

Susan felt her mouth try to drop open, as he went on. My god, he really believes it. It sounded crazy, but she could think of no other reason for him to be coming in this way.

And he thinks I'm scared of him.

Outrage filled her, and she glared at the man who sat smugly before her. He thinks he can come into my office and bully me into doing what he wants? She was gathering herself to snarl back at him when the door to her office opened. Worth stood and turned around, staring down at the squirrel standing in the doorway.

"What the hell is this fur ball doing here?" he demanded angrily.

It was too much. Her hand crashed down explosively on her desk, loud enough that he whirled around to stare at her. His opened his mouth to speak, but he never got the chance. "Doctor Richards," she managed to bite off, "has an appointment. Which is more than I can say for you. And if you think I'm out to get you now, just try calling him that again."

He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, and then stopped. He stared at her, and the anger in his eyes melted away in the face of her own towering fury. He took an involuntary step back as she leaned forward, pressing her clenched fists against the top of her desk.

"Get out of my office. Now."

He didn't even protest. fHe merely walked numbly through the door.

No one spoke for the longest time. Then the squirrel chuckled. "My, my, you seem a bit upset."

"I'm sorry about that, Pat," Susan apologized raggedly. "It's just-"

Pat held up his hand. "It's alright. I've heard worse, after all."

Susan shook her head. "You shouldn't have to hear it, and you know it." She gritted her teeth. "And if I ever hear him say it again-"

"Now don't you start," Pat admonished sharply. "That man came in here and accused you of doing what you're thinking about doing right now. Don't you go prove him right."

Susan took a deep breath, and then smiled sheepishly. "You're right, of course." Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know he said that?"

Pat gave her a mischievous look. "The walls are pretty thin around here, Suze. And from the sound of things, it's good I came in when I did."

Susan laughed and leaned back in her chair as he hopped up on the seat. Pressing back into the cushioned seat, he pulled his bushy tail out and laid it across his lap with a sigh. "Now why can't we have chairs like this in the field?"

Susan smiled fondly at the gray squirrel. Twenty years ago, they both attended classes at West City University. She'd majored in law, while he had received a doctorate in archaeology. They'd kept in touch since then, so she knew he'd moved from dig-site to dig-site until he heard about Echidna artifacts found to the South. Since then, he'd bought an apartment in the city, where he stayed between trips to the dig sites in the so-called "Mystic Ruins."

"So what can I do for you?" she asked when he seemed settled in.

Pat smirked. "Well, I could use a cup of tea, but what I'd really like to know is what you're doing with my rescue expedition."

Susan blinked. "Rescue?" she asked, puzzled.

Pat sighed. "Don't you remember? I called you up on Tuesday? Told you I'd finally managed to get those GUN people on board with a search party?"

She flinched. "Oh. That."

"Ya," Pat said, expression very serious. "I know you've got a lot on your plate right now, but my last expedition into the jungle is almost a four days overdue for a check-in. I was promised a search team, but now I hear it's been scooped up, along with the whole damn S-7 for 'training.' And a little birdie told me it was on your say-so."

"I'm so sorry Pat," she said sincerely. "With all that's going on…"

"Water under the bridge, Suze" he said with a flip of his hand. "Just see what you can do to break some people loose for that search."

"I'll get right on it." She paused. "You could have called about that. Why the appointment?"

"Why? To see you, of course! It's been, almost a year since I last saw you. I hear you've come up in the world since then, and I'm not leaving until I hear all about it."

"-was a pain getting it approved, and you could probably hear them screaming in West City."

Pat chuckled. "See? You're making friends already!"

"Ya, I guess you could say that," Susan muttered. "Unfortunately, it could make things a bit dicey, come next election."

"Hmph, tell me about it. The Archaeology Institute is getting a bit tight-fisted too. I might want to bring a club when I go to get our funding renewed."

"Speaking of which," Susan asked, "how's the dig?"

Pat grimaced.

"That bad, huh?"

"It was promising at first," Pat said wistfully. "We found some pottery fragments and a couple of sculptures, but since then we've dug up zilch. Now everyone's lost in the jungle, so there's no one left to work." He sighed. "And if I don't get my people back, the site's going to be dead for good."

"I'm sorry."

Pat waved his hand flippantly. "Don't be. Hell, we'll probably find a better dig somewhere else anyway."

Susan gazed pensively at him. "You don't believe that."

Pat looked back at her, and then shook his head. "No, I don't. Everything fits: the time period, the artwork, the location. It should be there…and it isn't."

Silence filled the room as Pat took a long drink of tea before setting it down on the saucer. Suddenly he looked up. "You know, I never did hear back from you about those documents I asked about."

Susan shook her head. "I'm sorry Pat, it wasn't there."

"It's got to be there," he protested. "I'm the only one who's been looking for it!"

"Apparently not. From what I've heard, they think it was stolen."

"Stolen? By who?!"

"I don't know, and they didn't say.

"Damn."

She looked him in the eye. "Is it really that important?"

Pat snorted. "Suze, this is Professor Gerald Robotnik we're talking about. You know, the guy that built the ARK and all that? I can guarantee you whatever research he did is better than what we've put together today. I've got records that say he was there, in the Mystic Ruins, at a dig, over fifty years ago. If there's anything to find there, I'd stake my life he found it," He sighed. "And that was the only one you found?"

"Pat, fifty years is a long time. I was lucky to find anything at all."

Pat sighed regretfully, and Susan bit her tongue. She hated not telling him the truth, but she didn't have a choice. The official report was bare, providing very little details about the incident. But a friend in GUN HQ had slipped her a chilling tidbit that hadn't been made public.

According to witnesses, the thief had been a machine of some sort. And while it had left little behind, a few scraps with some sort of serial numbers had been recovered

Serial numbers that were strikingly similar to those found during the Green Hill Incident.

An incident concerning a man calling himself Doctor Robotnik.

(This is a revised chapter. Several corrections have been made.)

Thanks to Lupus Silvae for pointing out some of my mistakes. They have been corrected.