A/N: Review responses for the last chapter are in my forums like normal. I will confess that I really, really need to stop letting myself get derailed by my SW rants in my forums. Bad Darth Marrs, Bad! Meantime, one more rather harsh chapter. And a personally apology to all of you Sons of Bitch out there. Sorry.
Metamorphosis 2.3
Miss Militia did not trust Thomas Calvert.
Something about the man reminded her of the men who dragged her and all the other children out of her village to be used as living mine sweepers that fateful day so long ago when she triggered. He had that same look of disinterest in his eyes—as if the lives of those around him were simply assets to be used and spent down whenever he thought appropriate.
Unfortunately Piggot vouched for him, and Legend sang his praises all the way from New York. The moment Thomas Calvert left retirement to help the flagging Protectorate ENE office, his credentials were well established. It was well known that when Piggot finally had to retire due to her failing health, Calvert would be taking her position.
Despite Miss Militia's misgivings, when Calvert called requesting immediate PRT and police back up, Armsmaster and Director Piggot both decided she would accompany the response team, since everyone else was out dealing with the ABB nightmare that was rocking the city.
By the time she reached the parking garage, which rose up with brand new splendor from a dilapidated part of town that had no need for such a structure, the BBPD was already onsite, as was Calvert and several of his men. Miss Militia recognized his lieutenant, Dmitri, who transferred down from New York. They were all wearing their Protectorate ENE sweater vests.
Calvert himself looked as if someone had shot his dog.
"What do we have?" she asked.
"A fuck up," Calvert said bluntly. "My fuck up. I screwed up, Miss Millitia. I thought I was doing something good, but I really missed the mark. Come on, I'll show you."
He led her and her support team of PRT agents team to a large elevator to what looked like an old abandoned Endbringer shelter. "You know I did consulting with Fortress Consulting before I rejoined the PRT," he explained. "I'd do independent audits, and discovered that one of our shelters simply disappeared one day. So, I started doing some more investigating and realized I'd found Coil. I rejoined the PRT specifically to lead the investigation into his operation."
Coil was an enigma among the Brockton Bay villains. Like Accord in Boston, Coil seemed less inclined to claim property as to use surgical strikes to further his own ends, whatever those happened to be.
They climbed down a set of stairs until they came to a hallway lit not by overheads, but by forensic lights spaced all around. The smell was awful, but Hanna continued on unfaltering behind Calvert.
She paused when she saw the body—a pretty young blonde, the color of her hair almost lost under the exposed contents of her skull. She recognized the striking red and black body armor with the star motif that was piled on the floor by the partially undressed body. Sundancer—one of the most powerful blasters in the United States.
Further beyond, the torso of another pretty girl and the remains of what looked like a monster of some kind. Between them, with a bullet hole behind his eyes, lay the masked, costumed figure of Coil himself.
"What the hell happened here?" she whispered. Capes did not murder with guns, not like this.
She was surprised by a sob from Calvert. "It was Harry." He ground his teeth and made a show of wiping a tear. "I thought I was making a difference. Legend said he was a good kid who needed a good home, and I tried my best to give that to him. Instead, I find he was not just working for Coil, but…but…"
Dmitri quietly responded to something over his radio. "We got the surveillance, boss," he said.
Calvert nodded. "Miss Militia?"
"Yes, let's go see."
The surveillance room appeared to be on the second floor in what looked to be Coil's own office. Everything was cleaned out save the computer with the security monitors attached. Another of Calvert's team sat there quickly typing. Without being prompted the woman spun the monitor around.
The footage was grainy black and white. She saw Sundancer in full costume holding a miniature sun in front of her. Walking behind her, a hand gently resting on the back of her head, came Harry Bailey just as he looked when he had his interview with New Wave.
It appears Panacea may have been right about him, she thought to herself.
Under his apparent Master control, he seemed to force Sundance to attack one of her friends, who was screaming silently for her to stop, hands outstretched. When the first girl died, Sundancer turned her devastating power on to something Hannah could only describe as a Case 53.
Coil appeared on screen, striking Bailey with an elbow to the temple while tackling Sundancer to the ground. Hannah fought to understand why Sundancer stared a moment at the girl she just killed before she began stripping off her custom. Coil, meanwhile, went after Bailey.
By the time Bailey shot the villain, Sundancer had stripped to her underclothes and simply collapsed to the floor. Bailey walked right up to her, placed the gun to the top of her skull and fired three times before turning to leave the frame.
"Two dead capes, possibly three, caught on camera," Hannah summarized numbly. "Any idea where the suspect is now?"
"I received a report from Shadow Stalker that a new cape showed up with the Undersides and obliterated Bakuda and most of the ABB just minutes after this happened," Calvert said. "The timing would be a big coincidence if the new cape wasn't Bailey, especially given the body count in the train yard. Teleportation. It looks like that's his MMO."
"Recommendation?"
"APB, full master protocols for Bailey and anyone caught with him," Calvert said. "Given how easily he appeared to control Sundancer, it might be wise to bring in someone not subject to any possible Master influence."
Hannah stared. "You mean Dragon? Isn't that a little extreme?"
Instead of answering, Coil waved at the video surveillance. The sheer brutality of the killings went above the norm for cape-on-cape violence. The gangs in Brockton Bay knew and usually adhered to the unwritten rules. Murder as callous and brutal as what Hannah just witnessed was far different than the way the area gangs normally operated. The sheer bloodshed that saw the end to Bakuda's bombing campaign hinted at the same.
"I'll contact Armsmaster," she finally said. "Dragon has a quick deployment suit in Boston that can be here in half an hour or less."
"Good. In the meantime, I'm taking a team to my house. Maybe we can find some clues on Harry's computer regarding what he was trying to do."
~~Simurgh's Son~~
~~Simurgh's Son~~
Harry flew agonizingly slow toward the center of the Docks neighborhood, following Lisa's direction. Eventually they came to a good sized but long-abandoned factory made of red brick in the middle of the city's ancient industrial section, from when Brockton Bay was a leading textile manufacturer. The factory probably dated back to the 19th century and still bore a faded sign announcing it as Redmond Welding. He brought them down by a massive but rusted metal door and chain.
He carried Taylor while Lisa led them around the side of the building where they found a smaller door. She reached for the door but suddenly paused, frowning in the gloom of the unlit alley. With the charm on Taylor she wasn't hard to hold, but it still seemed a bit odd to just stand there, with a mostly undressed girl in his arms.
Something was wrong. Tattletale turned to look at him, eyes-wide, and started to push him a second before the wall door and the wall around it exploded. The force of the explosion pushed Lisa into Harry and Taylor, making all three fall.
The figure that stepped out was painfully familiar to Harry. Worse yet, the figure took a look at him and recognized him instantly.
Shit. Harry left his mask back at his own lair.
"You little fuck," Ballistic snarled. "You little shit. You think we wouldn't find out?"
"Find out what?" Harry's voice squeaked.
"What fucking mojo did you put her under, Harry?" Ballistic snarled. "What'd you do to her? Marissa wouldn't have fucking killed Noelle in a million years! You did it to her, and then you fucking shot her in the head. Why? Who's paying you?"
"What?" Damn it, why does my voice keep squeaking?
"Coil," Lisa blurted. "Coil's setting us up. Shit. My last text, Harry. I didn't scrub it."
"I deleted it!"
"That doesn't remove it from the memory, it just hides it. Ballistic, it wasn't Harry! He was saving us from Bakuda tonight!"
"Bullshit, you lying little bitch!" Ballistic rushed forward and backhanded Lisa with his armored fist. She spun around, a surprised expression and a terrible angle to her jaw as she fell into Harry's arms. "I saw the video, Bailey! I saw you standing by Sundancer when she burned Noelle to ash! I saw you shoot her in the head!"
Not only was his voice squeaking, Harry felt tears welling in his eyes. Marissa was dead. Oh my God. "Luke, I promise, I'd never hurt her. Never! She was the only good thing I'd ever had. Please, please believe me!"
"You're a good liar, Little Man," Ballistic sneered. He spit out the nickname he used on Harry like a curse. "You fooled everyone. You're not going to fool me again. I may not be able to kill you with my power, but I can kill your little friends, and…"
Harry grabbed Taylor, grabbed Lisa, and disapparated.
The moment they landed, Lisa screamed in an incoherent mix of rage and pain and slapped him. He stunned her and caught her gently to lay her down on the dirty floor of the warehouse, and then healed her jaw. Only then did he wake her up again. He was alarmed by the tears in her eyes.
"Fuck fuck fuck I told you never to do that again," she whispered. She squeezed the palms of her hands against her eyes. "Fuck that hurts!"
"I didn't know what else to do!" Harry said.
"Blast him like you did Bakuda! Just don't fucking teleport me ever again!" She rolled on her side, and with her newly healed jaw, vomited bile.
Harry started to offer to help somehow when Ballistic's words hit him. They hit him so hard he stumbled and collapsed onto the couch, leaving Taylor and Lisa both on the ground.
"Marissa's dead." The tears welled at the corner of his eyes, spilling down his cheeks. "Why? Why'd they kill Marissa?"
Lisa sat up and folded her knees under her chin. She still looked deathly pale and was rubbing her jaw, which despite being healed probably still really hurt. The look she gave him, though, looked like it hurt worse. "It's my fault. I talked her into killing Noelle."
Harry stared, his own jaw gaping like a fish. "But…why?"
"Because she was the only one who could. Her power doesn't require line of sight and isn't limited by the Manton Effect. It would take something on the order of a controlled fusion reaction to destroy a potential S-class threat. I…if Coil checked your phone and saw my last text, and you weren't in bed, he'd know we were in collusion together. He probably discovered how I was skimming all his accounts. Fuck!"
She bowed her head almost to her knees, holding the palms of her hands to her eyes. When she sat up, her eyes were red but dry. "He had the Travelers precisely because he wanted Noelle. Without her, the rest were expendable. By making it look like you were controlling Sundancer, and then shot her, Coil'd make sure the rest were your enemies as well. He's setting us both up to ensure we either die, or get a kill order. I'll be surprised if he doesn't somehow blame the whole Bakuda thing on us too with the PRT."
She stood up and walked to his fridge. "In the meantime, we have a concussed friend and…two Cokes and …snack cakes. Lots of snack cakes." She took a soda and a cake and quickly consumed both. "Now one Coke. Still lots of cakes though."
"What do we do?" Harry asked, completely flummoxed.
"That's a good question. Taylor's place is out—because of you, Coil knows who she is. How safe is this place?"
"Moderately. I might be able to make it real safe, but it'll take a few days." He considered his options. "Do…does Coil know where you live?"
"Yes," she said. From the flat tone of his voice, he could tell she thought it was both a stupid question, and a reminder that she'd lost everything as well.
"I…look. I can turn invisible. How 'bout I apparate back to your lair? Now that I've been there, I can return. I'll get some clothes and any food I can find, and come back."
"Invisible?" She shook her head. "Don't care. Go get what you can. I'll look after Taylor."
Harry made sure to put his mask on before he cast the disillusionment charm on his himself. He summoned his staff and with a surge of will, left Taylor and Lisa alone.
He could tell within a minute that Luke wasn't there anymore. It had only been a few minutes, but he must have left quickly. Even so, Harry remained perfectly still in the dark alleyway, waiting for some sign Coil's people were still there. When nothing happened after a few minutes, Harry mounted his staff and levitated up along the wall of the factory until he reached one of the second-floor windows.
The second level had been converted to a comfortable, modern-looking loft. He concentrated a moment and teleported through the wall, but stayed mounted and in the air. Again, he remained still, floating a few feet off the floor, and waited for someone to notice.
Two armed men in black pants and bulging tactical vests stepped out of what looked like a kitchen area, each carrying a can of soda. Though he couldn't name them, he recognized them both as Coil's men. One spoke something quickly into the radio strapped to his shoulder, and then the two men settled down on one of the couches.
Given how poorly his first attempt at heroic action went, Harry hesitated on what to do, but the truth was he need to know what was happening and he couldn't find that out on his own.
Slowly, he drifted down to the floor, brandished his staff, and as quick as he could cast two stunners to the back of the men's heads. Both slumped in place, never having even seen the magic.
Harry retained his disillusionment charm as he stepped around the couch and pulled one of the men's eyes opened. "Hope this works," he muttered. "Legilimens!"
Despite having learned about the mind-reading charm in many of Harry's memories, he was utterly unprepared for the chaotic rush of imaginings, thoughts and the man's memories. He floundered, utterly lost, and backed out again with tears in his eyes and a throbbing pain in his head. "Huh, pretty sure I did that wrong."
As frustrating as it was, the most advanced and nuanced magics just couldn't be learned from memories alone. At least, not so far. He considered trying again, but his head hurt enough he feared he might damage himself. He stunned both men again and then disarmed them both. Perhaps Lisa could us their equipment.
The loft was divided into rooms. He entered the first, following the faint scent of dogs, but stopped at the door.
He'd found Bitch. A black bolt, like from a crossbow, protruded from the center of her forehead, and from the heads of all her dogs.
The next room had several sets of stylish clothes. It was only the utter lack of feminine underwear that made Harry realize it was Regent's room, and not Tattletale's. Hers was the next room over. He found a convenient backpack and stuffed all the clothes he could into it, even including a pair of trainers.
The last room had a paperweight of a bug caught in amber, and a week's worth of clothes—all baggy and unbecoming. Definitely Taylor's. He found another bag and stuffed the clothes and personal items in the back, before finally taking the paperweight and putting it in as well.
After a moment's consideration, Harry remembered he could shrink things. Another moment after that, and he remembered how. He placed Taylor's shrunken bag in the backpack before moving on to the kitchen area.
He found the kitchen well stocked with canned and dry foods. More importantly, he found a good portable grill and a spare butane canister. He bagged the food and then shrunk it, along with the grill. He felt uncomfortable shrinking a compressed container of flammable gas. That he just forced into the backpack as it was.
As he stepped out into the main loft and saw the two men, he suddenly had another thought. A brief search found the men's phones—each carried two. He ignored the smart phones, figuring they were all locked with security codes. Instead, he took one of the disposable flip phones and opened it up.
He dialed 911.
"Nine-one-one, what's you're emergency?" The voice sounded feminine but firm, like a stern mother speaking to unruly children.
Harry took a deep breath. "I'm a…cape. I need to report a crime against another cape, but I don't know the PRT number. Can you connect me?"
"One moment."
Harry looked about him for any sign he might have already been detected. At some point, he was sure his disillusionment had worn off because he could see himself now.
"PRT ENE, who is speaking?"
Harry felt his stomach drop. He recognized the voice—it was the first voice he heard upon leaving the plane that brought him to America.
Thomas Calvert.
Worse yet, Harry had no doubt that the PRT could triangulate where he was calling from very quickly, and likely identify what number he was calling from. He snapped the phone shut, tossed it over the balcony of the loft, and then blasted it into dust with his staff.
"Bloody 'ell, he can't win this easy!"
In the distance, he heard a siren fast approaching. He gathered everything he'd collected and disapparated back to the warehouse.
His witch light had gone out when he arrived, casting the whole space in darkness. "Lisa?" he called out. "Are you there?"
He had only a moment to see a flash of blinding blue light before something painfully cold struck him in the face. He tried to cry out, but his mouth filled with bitter-tasting fluid. He fell back, desperately clawing at his face while fighting to breathe. Almost at the same time, something heavy and wet hit him in the back of his head, forcing him mask-first into the ground. He swallowed reflexively. He tried to get up, but the wet substance seemed to expand explosively all around him, catching his limbs and torso in a vice-like grip that completely froze him. None of that mattered, though, as an impossibly heavy lethargy dragged him quickly down into darkness.
~~Simurgh's Son~~
~~Simurgh's Son~~
They looked at him with a terrible, crushing hope. The five young women who bound themselves to him to lead their rebellion were so sure of their cause that they risked their lives to sneak onto the planet from their own colony world and perform the ritual to wake him almost four thousand years after his birth.
"…crush any opposition," the new Lady Gryffindor explained to him within the bowels of the Mage Institute, previously known as Hogwarts. "Any differing opinion is crushed immediately, and if anyone tries to oppose the Hierarchy they're subjected to a Death of Personality and rebuilt as a ward of the state! They did it to my brother when he discovered Councilor Aldar was shipping Mage-enhanced torpedoes to the Romulan Resurgence!"
Harry Potter might have been seventeen again, but the soul within was already a thousand years old. "So, just to get this right," Harry said. "You snuck onto Caldos without permission from the ruling council, this Hierarchy, you used your great uncle's wand to slip past the wards to reach the heartstone, and summoned me back to life for what, to run your little rebellion?"
Their shoulders sagged and their faces dropped into frowns of disappointment at his lack of enthusiasm. "We didn't know what else to do," the new Lady Slytherin said. "The last rebellion was crushed, and our complaints to the Federation Council were dismissed as 'unsubstantiated'." She made exaggerated quotation marks with her fingers. "Everything is stacked against the people, Harry Potter. My great grandmother told me before she died that when everything looked impossible, and there wasn't any hope for the people, to think of you."
Lady Potter cleared her throat and met Harry's gaze squarely. "The government of Caldos has fallen to the darkest of Magics, Harry. Personality wipes, mass murder, the elimination of personal freedoms, and treason by violating the treaty with the Federation by arming and funding anti-Federation militant groups. You're the Forever Mage. We are your people. Please help us."
Harry sighed bitterly. "I never said I wouldn't help. I just hate being the bad guy."