Security!
Chapter 36: Reactions
Corporal Joe McKenzie considered himself to be a lucky man. His entire duty was to follow Paige Macabee around, and ensure that she caused problems for no-one, and that no-one caused problems for her. It was an odd relationship; she wasn't quite a prisoner, but nor was she free to go alone just anywhere. He did his best not to be too intrusive, and she seemed to appreciate that. Of course, following a 'civilian contractor' around had the potential to cause extreme boredom for a trained soldier.
On the upside, Paige was quite pretty, once you got past the banana-yellow hair and the odd little feathers that sprouted from her scalp. In addition, she could have been much more difficult about the fact that he had to be within earshot of her at any given time. However, she was taking to it with a degree of acceptance that he doubted that he could have equalled; she had a sweet nature, and was obviously determined to make the best of the situation. And when she was out on the roof sunbathing, as she was this morning, he didn't exactly mind keeping an eye on her.
Paige stretched out on the recliner and rubbed her calf with her other foot. Behind her sunglasses, her eyes wandered over to where Joe sat in the shade of an umbrella. Besides the sunglasses, she wore a one-piece bathing suit and lots of sunscreen; she would burn to a crisp, otherwise. Joe, on the other hand, wore his full PRT uniform, including helmet. He was very conscientious about that.
"You know, you can take some of that gear off," she suggested. "That must be horribly hot to wear out here."
"Wish I could, Paige," he replied with a grin. "Rules, regulations, et cetera, et cetera."
At least that was an improvement; for the first few hours, he had called her 'ma'am' consistently, until she had convinced him to at least use her name. Then it had been 'Ms Macabee' for a while longer. And now he was being natural enough to grin, as opposed to being too stiff and formal to carry on a normal conversation.
It was so nice to talk to anyone these days, who didn't treat her like the Second Coming of the Simurgh. She had no illusions about his base loyalties; in a pinch, he would follow orders. But so long as she didn't cause him problems, he would be friendly.
Guard or not, he still treated her like a person. Like a human being.
It could, she knew, be much, much worse.
Joe unscrewed the top of his canteen and took a swig of water; as Paige had noted, it was very hot, and he was sweating inside his uniform, even in the shade. "Want some?" he offered, holding it out to her.
Rolling up on one elbow to face him, she smiled. "Thanks," she replied, accepting the canteen and taking a mouthful. As she handed it back, she went on musingly, "I'm thinking we might go shopping this afternoon, Joe. I'd like to get some clothes."
He took the canteen back, screwed the cap on carefully, and hung it on his belt. "You've already got clothes," he pointed out, more for the sake of saying something than to be argumentative.
She wrinkled her nose. "Those are work clothes. Coveralls. I want something bright, something that catches the eye. Something that makes sure people don't get me mixed up with the Simurgh, ever again."
"Huh." He considered that. "You've actually got a good point there."
"I know I do." But she sounded pleased anyway. "So is there any problem with that?"
He shook his head. "I'll call it in, just to make sure, but I can't see it being an issue."
"Thanks." She treated him to a beaming smile. "I really appreciate it."
She lay back on the recliner, barely hearing the vague mumbling as he subvocalised into his helmet microphone. No longer a pop star, she wouldn't have the big dollars coming in any more. However, with the pardon that was even now working its way through the system – so Director Piggot had told her – she would once more have access to her savings. She would be able to buy clothes, decorate her quarters in whatever style she liked. And the PRT would pay her simply to sit around while Kid Win and Armsmaster worked on duplicating the quality of her voice that made people so suggestible. Her biggest danger, she suspected, would be boredom.
But that wasn't something she needed to worry about right now. Right now, there was quality sunbathing to get done. Lowering the recliner's back to the horizontal, she rolled on to her stomach and pillowed her chin on her crossed arms -
"Paige."
Joe's voice broke into her comfortable reverie. Looking up, she turned to face him.
"What's up?" she asked. "Don't they like the idea?"
"It's not that," he replied, coming to his feet. "You're going to need to get dressed. We're going to have some crowd control to do."
With a sigh, she climbed to her feet. It appeared as though she was going to be doing more than simply sitting around, at least today.
"What's going on?" she asked, grabbing her towel and tucking it around her waist as a makeshift skirt. "Riot?"
He shook his head, already leading the way to the roof access. "Gang war."
She blinked. "Wow."
Life as a civilian contractor for the PRT was definitely showing signs of being not boring.
=/=/=
Contessa pulled out her phone and tapped out a text message; it consisted of three words. As she pressed the Send button, she spoke the words, "Doorway to Cauldron."
Without fuss or bother, the rectangular doorway unfurled before her, revealing the stark white tiled corridor. She stepped through, putting away her phone as she did so. The Door closed behind her as she walked three paces, opened a door and entered; in the meeting room beyond, Alexandria and Eidolon were in conference with Doctor Mother. Alexandria paused as she entered, then continued, addressing the question to Contessa.
" - Piggot reports that Allen has given her a method of bringing Accord into line. Can you give us an idea of how successful she will be in this?"
Contessa looked at Alexandria serenely. "I myself would use a slightly different approach, but it will certainly suffice to our needs. So long as we hold faith with Accord and his plans, he will be loyal to our cause."
Eidolon rubbed his chin. "Allen has confessed to working with incomplete data before now. Will this impact the overall success of our plans?"
Contessa shook her head. "Not significantly."
"Emily has assigned him a Thinker 0 classification," observed Alexandria. "Would he be more capable of assisting us in our planning if he actually had Thinker powers?"
"Are you thinking of giving him a formula?" asked Doctor Mother sharply. "The cost -"
" - is nothing, compared with the end result of saving the world. All the worlds," Alexandria pointed out.
Contessa shook her head. "He would be very unlikely to accept one," she stated flatly.
All three stared at her.
"He would turn down … powers?" asked Eidolon disbelievingly. "He does know what they do, right?"
She nodded. "Yes. And he would refuse them under all but the most stringent of situations."
"What are his reasons?" asked Alexandria.
"That … is harder to fathom," Contessa confessed. "Whatever his origins, he presents something of an enigma to me. My power does not give me any sort of detail about him; at best, all I get is broad strokes about his overall goal."
"To save the world." Eidolon's voice was just a little sarcastic.
Contessa nodded firmly. "Exactly."
"This man worries me," stated Doctor Mother. "He obviously knows far more about all of us, about Cauldron, than I am personally comfortable with. He also knows about the powers of the parahumans with whom he is associating. But he hasn't made a single move toward turning his knowledge, or the contacts that he has made, to his personal benefit." She spread her hands. "He's obviously far from stupid. What sort of a man is it that has such power, such opportunity, in his grasp, and does not take it?" A shake of the head. "He's dangerous."
"I agree," Eidolon commented unexpectedly. "A man with his resources, with no discernible leverage points, who would have us believe that he is only working toward the common good? Who does that any more?"
"Someone," Alexandria observed, "who doesn't want wealth or power." She paused. "Or perhaps, someone who doesn't need it."
They considered that for a few moments. Every person there wielded great power of one sort of another, and their association with Cauldron had made them more than a little wealthy.
Contessa broke the silence. "Or perhaps he's trying to ensure that things are stable before he moves on to the next phase of his plan."
The silence resumed, with a certain thoughtful quality to it. Paradoxically, they were more comfortable with this line of thinking; this concept, that of someone setting up a situation in which he could gain a later advantage, was familiar to them, something they could deal with.
"You'll be ready to forestall his plans, of course." Eidolon was looking directly at Contessa. "Don't blindside us again, like you did the last time."
Contessa smiled. "Of course. I'm right on top of the situation."
Alexandria nodded. "Good. On to other matters ..."
=/=/=
Taylor left the bathroom and jogged through the school corridors; the bugs she had spread throughout the school picked up several other people moving around, but only a few were running like she was. She changed direction and put on the pace to catch up with them.
She needn't have worried; they were moving at the pace of their slowest member, and she dashed out of a side corridor about thirty feet in front of them.
"Weaver!" called Aegis; she waved and slowed, running backward until they caught up with her, then turning and falling into step with them.
"Wow, seriously, Weaver?" asked Kid Win; his armour was slowing him down slightly, but he was doing his best to keep up with the others. Taylor thought his voice sounded oddly familiar; maybe it was because she'd met him briefly after the Brockton Bay Central Bank robbery. "You did good at the bank, and I heard about what you did against Coil."
Before she could answer, Gallant had moved up alongside her. "It's really great to have you in the Wards," he greeted her. "I'd heard you were coming to Arcadia, but I didn't know it was going to be this soon."
She grinned behind the mask. "It's good to be here," she replied. And it was; she was one of them. They had accepted her. She was officially a superhero.
And with that, Mike's tutoring clicked into focus. Remember; they don't know the extent of your powers, what you can do with them. Don't be afraid to suggest ideas. He had grinned then, at some inner joke. Just try not to freak out Clockblocker too much. He's a delicate flower.
"Aegis," she said crisply. "What's the threat level? How hard do you want me to go?"
The boy in the rust-brown costume did not hesitate more than half a second. "There's a lot of gang members on the streets. The vast majority of them are normals, but they're armed, so we treat the threat level as high." He looked around at them. "There are three factions in play; Empire Eighty-Eight and the Merchants coming in from each side, and the ABB in the middle. Note that they're all going head to head; at our best guess, the Merchants are going for a land grab, and the Empire's pushing outward to avoid any impression of weakness."
"The Merchants?" asked Clockblocker. "Doesn't sound like them."
"Normally, it wouldn't be," Gallant pointed out. "But the Empire and ABB aren't exactly on the top of their game at the moment."
Taylor cleared her throat. "Aegis, I have a swarm building right now. Which direction should I send it?"
He glanced at her, startled. "How big - no, never mind. We'll, uh, be going northwest from here, so send it that way. I'll be getting you to do scouting and crowd control on the mooks."
"And if we hit hostile capes?" Taylor was surprised at how calm her voice sounded.
He shot her a grim smile. "Take them down hard, but remember, for the most part they aren't as resilient as Lung."
She nodded sharply. "Hard but non-lethal; got it."
"We'll be joining up with Protectorate capes and working alongside them," Aegis went on, addressing the whole group. "They've also alerted New Wave and every independent cape they could reach; we're going to need all hands on deck for this one. Gallant, can you -"
"Already on it," the grey-armoured teen responded. "Vicky and Amy are on their way now."
=/=/=
Menja allowed me to lock up my vehicle, although I was justifiably dubious as to how well that would work against a determined vandal. With one hand on my shoulder, applying just enough pressure to remind me that she was there, she escorted me back down the road. As she did so, we encountered a powerfully-built man, moving purposefully toward the ongoing brawl.
His hair was long and greasy, and he bore several tattoos on his arms and shirtless torso; I would have guessed at his identity even without the metal extruding from his body to cover his skin. He sneered at me as he passed us. "Who's the rent-a-cop?" he asked.
"Someone that Kaiser wants to talk to," replied Menja coolly.
Hookwolf looked me up and down and sneered again, then nodded to Menja and moved on, having obviously dismissed me from his worldview. I glanced back once, to see him growing more metal on his body as he closed in on the brawlers.
Menja did not allow me to linger, and I really didn't want to see what happened next; we turned the corner just before he reached them, but the screams carried to us just fine. Hookwolf, I knew, was not a man who pulled his punches. I felt sick to my stomach, but I did my best not to show it.
As we went to meet Kaiser, the thought kept running through my head: I made this happen. I got those people hurt and killed. Gang members or no, what happened to them was ultimately on me. And I didn't like that, in any way, shape or form.
Which meant that even now, I had to step up. I was in as dangerous a position as ever I had been in my life; I was being escorted by a parahuman, who could kill me with ease, to meet a man who I had repeatedly insulted on our last meeting. A man whose current position of power depended heavily upon showing absolutely no sign of weakness.
And if I wanted to reduce the casualties, I had to figure out how to tell him what to do, in such a way that didn't get me killed in any one of a dozen gruesome ways.
I really, really wanted to go to the toilet.
=/=/=
Amy glanced up when Vicky's phone buzzed to indicate an incoming text. It would hardly have been unusual in the normal run of things, except that Arcadia incorporated Faraday shielding in its walls to prevent that exact thing from happening with every single student. Such shielding could only be bypassed by going outside to make a call ... or if one's boyfriend had a Tinker friend who could circumvent it.
The school knew about this, of course; Dean had insisted on telling them. It was only to be used as a means for Gallant to contact Glory Girl in the case of an emergency. So when Victoria Dallon got a text in the middle of class, it meant that Amy had to pay attention, too. If Glory Girl was needed, then the chances were that Panacea was in demand as well.
Except that on this occasion, Amy was going to have some unwelcome news for her sister.
=/=/=
Emily Piggot frowned as her phone went off. She held up a hand to stall the PRT major on the other side of her desk. She would normally have ignored it, but she had it set to accept only the highest priority messages.
Pulling it out, she read the text on the screen: Find Michael Allen.
The number wasn't one she recognised; she frowned again. Somehow it had bypassed her priority system.
"One second, Major," she told the PRT man, and tapped out Allen's number. If the man - or whatever he was - wanted to get in touch with her, then all he had to do was call; his number was on her 'priority' list.
But he hadn't; this was a third party, telling her to find him.
Director Piggot was not a stupid woman; it didn't take her long to connect the dots. The chances were that this message had not come from a mundane source. Which meant ... what?
No need to panic just yet. I'll just ask him where he is, she decided, tamping down the stirrings of alarm in her mind.
The phone went straight to voice mail.
"That's not like him," she decided. Hanging up the phone momentarily, she set up a conference call.
=/=/=
Menja had taken my phone, of course, as well as my pepper spray and extendible baton; I may not have been a credible threat to her, with Hookwolf in easy calling range, and Kaiser presumably somewhere nearby, but she wasn't taking any chances. I watched her turn the phone off; there went any chance I had of calling for help.
"You realise, that might make people wonder, if my phone's off," I commented.
"Let them wonder," she stated. "I take my orders from Kaiser, and no-one else."
"I can't argue with that," I responded agreeably. She shot me a sharp glance, but I met it with a bland gaze.
"And who do you take orders from, security man?" she asked.
"Very few people," I replied. "Right now, no-one at all."
I wasn't sure if she believed me; it was true, given that I was off duty for a month, but the truth of a statement did not necessarily add to its credibility.
"That scar on your neck," she observed at last. "Bakuda?"
I nodded, quelling the impulse to rub at the still-itching spot. "The same."
"And yet you're still walking and talking."
"I have good friends," I told her. "And on that note, where's Kaiser, exactly?"
"In here." She pushed me toward a doorway.
We entered, and climbed stairs. Several storeys up, we emerged on a rooftop; I was breathing heavily, and sweating more than a little.
Menja looked at me disapprovingly. "You do not care for your body," she chided.
I tried to think of a smart comment, but I was panting too hard to think clearly. "Make it to my age," I told her at last, "and see how you go."
=/=/=
"You've reached Legend, Director Piggot. How can I help you?"
"There's a gang war breaking out in Brockton Bay, and I've lost contact with Security."
Legend paused, hovering in midair over New York. "Not to be unhelpful, Director, but can't your forces on the ground find him as easily as I could?"
"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear the first time," she stated acerbically. "Gang. War. The ABB, the Merchants and the Empire Eighty-Eight are duking it out on the streets, and the man who knows how to save the world is in the middle of it. I was actually trying to get Alexandria, but the call was transferred to you. My forces are just now getting organised to stop the gangs, but my only fliers are in the Wards. Please. I'm asking for help."
"I'm still not sure what I can do," Legend replied, even as he turned northward. "I can't search every building in the city."
"I've got Armsmaster on the line as well," Piggot told him. "He can give you a bearing on the last location of the phone before it went offline. That should narrow down the search area considerably. And you can cover it a lot faster than my forces could."
He nodded, although she could not see him. She was right, of course. "I understand. I'll be there as soon as I can."
=/=/=
Kaiser turned his head as we emerged on to the roof. Fenja stood alongside him; she continued to watch the street.
"Good morning, Mr Allen," he greeted me. "I see you were not foolish enough to decline my invitation."
Moving forward at Menja's insistence - not that she was being forceful, but the gentle pressure in the small of my back echoed the itch between my shoulder-blades, so I didn't argue - I joined him at the roof's edge.
"It fell into the category of 'an offer I could not refuse'," I observed, trying to match his casual tone. From where we stood, I could see not only the victorious Empire members moving on down the street, leaving recumbent ABB bodies in its wake, but also my pickup, parked at the side of the road.
I gestured toward the vehicle. "I'm guessing that if I had attempted to drive on, I would have suffered a sudden and inexplicable puncture?"
He smiled coldly. "At the very least, Mr Allen. At the very least."
He turned slightly away from me, to follow something that was out of my line of sight. Curious, I stepped forward to see. Both Fenja and Menja tensed; abruptly, a spiked fence of steel spikes grew up around me. I stopped moving. Given that a dozen needle-sharp spines were suddenly pricking me through my clothing, and more were poking at my stab vest, not moving seemed to be a wise course of action.
"I'm actually curious," I cleared my throat, "I'm actually curious as to why you've had me brought here."
Turning his head back to me, he raised an eyebrow. "Only 'curious', Mr Allen?" His voice was amused. "You appear to be made of sterner stuff than most people that I've had brought before me."
"Well, to be honest," I told him, "I'm kind of glad you had me picked up. There is something I do need to talk to you about."
That got his attention. He turned back to me then; his eyes were intent, his focus total. "After Friday night's conversation, I find this hard to believe. Why the about-turn?"
I wanted to take a deep breath, but I didn't feel like testing out the integrity of my stab vest. "You may recall the audience we had on Friday night. I didn't want to let them know I was too interested in talking to you." I paused. "Note that what I actually said at the time still stands; I don't approve of your organisation or its aims. But I have need of you, and several other members of the Empire. So, we need to talk."
He was walking around me slowly; by now, the cage of steel spikes had grown to encompass my head. All I could do was follow him with my eyes.
"Really." His voice was cold, the tone of someone totally in charge. "You have 'need' of me. How interesting. Perhaps you had forgotten the insults you hurled my way, the last time we talked? Accusing me of being either a moron or a hypocrite? Do you retract that statement?"
I felt the cold steel of a blade sliding into place across my throat; I had absolutely no doubt that it was razor sharp.
"What I think of you personally doesn't matter," I mumbled, trying to move my Adam's apple as little as possible.
The blade increased its pressure; I felt the sting as the skin was broken.
"Oh, but it does." Kaiser's voice was but a whisper, right by my ear. "I have been rarely been spoken to in that fashion by anyone, and it's even more rare that I let them live, afterward."
"Killing me," I managed, "would be a very bad idea." I was sweating anew now, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. "The PRT -"
"- has more to worry about right now than the life of a single second-rate security guard," he interrupted me. "More to the point, I have little to lose, now that every single member of the Empire Eighty-Eight has been unmasked. If the PRT needs an indication of my determination to remain in power as the head of the Empire Eighty-Eight in Brockton Bay, then perhaps your corpse will serve that purpose."
"No need," I told him, moving only my lips. "The PRT isn't going to act on that information anyway."
He stopped, staring at me. "Make sense. Fast."
I would have shrugged, if doing so wasn't risking a flesh wound. "If I say go easy on you, the PRT will give you a pass for most of the shit that's gone down today." At least, I hope so.
His eyes narrowed. "That would presuppose a level of influence with the PRT that I have not yet seen evidence of," he stated flatly "I'm going to need some proof -"
=/=/=
"Ready to go, Amy?" asked Glory Girl, fitting the tiara on her head.
Amy didn't answer; she was looking at the floor, trying to formulate what she needed to say next. It wasn't easy, or anywhere near it.
Vicky came over, putting her hand on Amy's shoulder. "Panacea? Got your game face on?"
Amy looked up into her sister's face. "I ... can't go with you, Vicky," she confessed. "I need to go with the Wards. With Weaver."
Glory Girl frowned. "What? Why? What's going on?"
Amy took a deep breath. "I'm off healing duties while I'm in therapy," she told Vicky in a rush. "Weaver controls bugs. We're collaborating on designing bugs for her -"
"Wait, what the fuck?" blurted Vicky. "Off healing? But healing is what you do. It's your thing. You heal people. You can't just decide not to heal people."
"And that attitude is part of why I'm in fucking therapy in the first place!" shouted Amy. "People die all the time, Vicky! It happens, no matter how hard I try to heal everyone! There are doctors for a reason! They help more people every day than I ever could!" She took a deep breath to calm herself. "So just for a little while, I'm taking time off. He told me that I didn't have to heal anyone if I didn't want to. So I'm not. Not until I get my head on straight."
Vicky was staring at her. "Who told you?"
Amy met her gaze squarely. "Mike Allen. Security."
"What the fuck?" demanded Glory Girl. "Who gave him the fucking right to tell you what you can and can't do?"
"He gave me advice," Amy told her. "And now I'm in therapy, and I'm learning so much about myself.". She looked her sister in the eye. "I'm doing this for you too, you know. He told me about something that could have happened if we were not careful, if I wasn't careful. And now that I know, we're taking steps to make sure it never happens."
Vicky shook her head. "You're making no sense at all."
"I can't tell you, not everything," Amy explained. "But sometime soon I will. You and Mom and Dad, you'll be attending some of my therapy sessions. And then you'll understand what it's all about."
Glory Girl was still staring at her. "But you don't need therapy. You're the sanest person I know."
Amy shook her head. "It's not about being insane to start with. It's about helping me recognise and face my problems." She pointed at the door. "But I need to catch up with the Wards before they go. Can you give me a lift?"
Vicky heaved a sigh. "Sure. But this isn't over. I am gonna find out what's going on."
Amy smiled as Vicky scooped her into a bridal-style carry. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Though I'm not looking forward to finding out how you react when you find out how I feel about you, she mused. The way Mike described it, it did not turn out well.
She sighed, internally. We'll get to that when we get to it.
=/=/=
When the need was upon him, Legend could fly very fast indeed. He made it from New York, north and east to Brockton Bay, in a remarkably short time. At thirty thousand feet, few people would have been able to see anything worth seeing; however, his unique powerset allowed him to distinguish details at ground level that would normally have required a high-powered optical telescope.
He could not scan at speed, but he could cover quite a large area while scanning from altitude.
It wasn't all easy going; fires had been set, or accidentally started, here and there, and the plumes of smoke blocked his vision as easily as it blocked normal sight. But he hadn't even needed to check each plume in turn; barely a minute into the search, he had located his quarry.
And he had not arrived a moment too soon.
=/=/=
"- of what you're saying ..."
Kaiser's voice trailed off, which didn't really surprise me. I was too busy blinking in astonishment as the cage of blades fell apart around me; there had been a flash of red light, and then each blade, each spike, had been separated from the whole and was now lying on the rooftop at my feet.
Kaiser grew a sword from his hand – just grew it, which would have struck me as insanely cool at any other time. Menja readied her spear, looking outward. Fenja raised her shield.
And then Legend arrived on the rooftop.
Again, all I saw was a flash of light, and then he was there; hair unruffled, not even a crack in the tarred rooftop under his feet. Light played over his hands and arms; the equivalent, I figured, of a Brute flexing his muscles. Which didn't surprise me; whatever they could do, he could counter, and whatever he wanted to do, they had no chance of beating.
"This is over," he informed us quietly. "Mr Allen; are you all right?"
The first thing that struck me was the sheer presence of the man. He was of average height and build; the skin-tight costume showed that he was fit and muscular. But even though he was also quite handsome, that wasn't all of it, not by a long shot. He had charisma and charm, even though the latter wasn't really showing through, in the grim tone of his voice.
I had met some of the worst capes in Brockton Bay. Today, I was meeting one of the best.
"Oh, I'm fine," I told him, thinking quickly. "Mr Anders and I were discussing the concept of his pulling his men back to status quo ante bellum, in return for not being arrested just for being Kaiser. Everything the Empire's done today." I looked at Kaiser, and then back at Legend. "Everything they've done today that doesn't involve harm to civilians or property, we sweep it under the rug. The PRT doesn't go after them just for being a criminal parahuman gang."
Kaiser was staring at me, as was Legend. Menja and Fenja were silent, but wary. They obviously knew, as I did, that the arrival of the Triumvirate leader had utterly shifted the playing field; the man regularly went up against Endbringers, for crying out loud. Even with me as a potential hostage, they were so badly outmatched that it was laughable.
Of course, now I had to convince him not to take them down.
Legend folded his arms. "So tell me, why exactly should I do any of that, instead of just arresting them?"
It seemed simple enough to me. "As I said, status quo ante bellum. The Merchants and the ABB are still going at it hammer and tongs, but if the Empire pulls out of this war, it'll be a lot easier for the PRT and Protectorate to take down the rest." I gestured toward Kaiser and the two girls. "If you arrest them, that still leaves the rest of the Empire on the streets, causing havoc. But if he calls everyone off, that takes half the parahumans off the field, in one fell swoop. Right, Kaiser?"
Reluctantly, Kaiser nodded. "That is correct, yes." He looked at Legend; I could see the cogs turning in his head, trying to see a way to glean an advantage from the situation. "If I call my people off, we simply walk away? No arrests?"
Legend grimaced. "I'm still not convinced. Mr Allen, why are you advocating this?"
I raised my eyebrows. "You've been filled in on what happened Friday night?"
He nodded. "Yes. Does this have to do with that?"
I shrugged. "Sure. I figure we can use Kaiser, the twins, Hookwolf, Rune, Othala and Victor."
Menja and Fenja both glanced sharply at me. Kaiser frowned.
"So what is it, exactly, that you want us for?" he asked.
I grinned. "To save the world."
Kaiser looked to Legend. "Is he serious?"
After a long moment, the hero nodded. "Apparently so." He came to a decision. "Do it. Call your men off. You get to walk away, free and clear, except for anyone who actually targeted civilians. If they can be identified, or if they've already been arrested, then they will be prosecuted."
"I gave specific orders for civilians not to be targeted," Kaiser reminded him curtly. "If any have disobeyed me, then they deserve whatever punishment they receive."
"But you'll stand everyone else down?" pressed Legend.
Kaiser did not answer him directly; instead, he pulled out his cellphone. As he dialled, he turned to Menja. "Find Hookwolf. Pass on the word. We cease hostilities immediately."
The tall Amazonian blonde saluted with her spear, and headed for the stairwell.
Holding the phone to his ear, Kaiser went on. "Kreig? Kaiser. We're out of this war, effective immediately. Stand all troops down, and pull them back to our territory."
Kreig must have asked for confirmation, because Kaiser's tone hardened. "I'm not asking. I'm telling. Stand. Everyone. Down. At. Once."
There was a long pause, then he nodded once, sharply. "Good. Let me know when it's done." Putting the phone away, he turned to Legend, and raised an eyebrow. Satisfied? he didn't quite ask.
Legend acknowledged with a nod, but pursed his lips. "I'm still not entirely convinced that this is the best thing to do," he observed, then he turned to me. "You're certain of this?"
"We're going to need our biggest hitters," I told him frankly.
"Kaiser isn't a huge hitter, though," he pointed out.
"But he can create shapes with his blades," I responded, then looked at the leader of the Empire Eighty-Eight. "You can do that, right?"
Kaiser looked slightly taken aback, but recovered well. "Of course," he retorted. "I have complete control over my power."
I nodded. "Good. We'll have need of that."
Kaiser frowned. "You speak as though you're arranging some sort of Endbringer Truce. We already have those."
I badly wanted to pat him on the head and say something along the lines of You're so adorable, but I chose not to, on the grounds that I had pushed my luck quite far enough for one day.
Instead, I tilted my head slightly as I pretended to think about the concept. "That's one way to think about it, yes," I agreed. After all, I was trying to arrange a truce, in order to battle the most powerful end-bringer of all. "Not quite sure when it'll happen, but at some time, sooner or later, we'll be calling on you. And when we do, we're going to be needing you to bring your A-game to the table."
"So, just another Endbringer attack, then," he replied dismissively. "I thought that you claimed to have disposed of those." His tone was heavy with disbelief.
"Oh, if all goes right, the Endbringers won't be a problem," I assured him. "It's not them I'm talking about." I looked him in the eye. "What I'm working on right now, last time it was tried, there were eighty percent casualties, and that was before the endgame. This time round, I'm hoping for a lower number."
"What in God's name are you talking about?" he demanded.
Slowly, I shook my head. "Can't tell you. And if I were you, I wouldn't think too hard about it. Just in case." I turned to head for the stairwell.
"Wait!" objected Kaiser. "What's going on here? Why do you specifically need my ability to shape metal? Who are you?"
I looked back at him. "What's going on here is that you've just acquired the direct and personal attention of the PRT by kidnapping me. Fortunately, I'm the forgiving type." I paused to give him time to let that sink in. "Why we need your specific capabilities, that's currently classified. And as for who I am and where I'm from and how I know what I know, that's so classified that not even the President is cleared to know it. But do us both a favour. Don't pull this again. Seriously. There is no way that it will end well."
I saw him begin to flare up. "If you think you can threaten me -"
I shook my head. "Not a threat. A warning. This time, you get to walk away from this, no backlash. Next time … to quote a line I once heard, mayhem will ensue."
He frowned. "Very well. But this isn't over."
"Nope," I agreed. "It isn't." Turning back to the stairwell, I took the stairs down at a more sedate pace than I had ascended them. Legend accompanied me.
=/=/=
Kaiser, flanked by Fenja and Menja, watched as the overweight security guard descended the stairs, followed by one of the most powerful parahumans in the world.
Fenja broke the silence. "He invoked the PRT, and Legend arrived in moments," she observed. "What does that mean?"
Kaiser didn't answer for a long moment. "It means that I was wise in not harming him immediately," he replied quietly. "Take note; anyone can make a miscalculation. It's how you handle the aftermath that proves what sort of person you are. It seems that my initial impression of Mr Allen was accurate after all. We are dealing with an unknown quantity here, and if he has the likes of the Triumvirate to call upon, then he is not someone we can safely antagonise."
"So what do we do now?" asked Menja.
"We make sure that our forces fall back in good order, and leave the Merchants and the ABB to the tender mercies of the PRT," Kaiser declared. A smile crossed his face. "There will be plenty of time to pick up the pieces, after."
=/=/=
"Tell me," Legend commented after we'd gone down a flight, "was it your intention to antagonise him?"
"Maybe," I allowed. "I don't like the man, and I don't really give a shit if he knows it."
"But he could have killed you," he objected. "I would have done my best to protect you, but I could not have guaranteed your safety."
"He didn't want me dead," I responded. "He wanted answers."
"But if you'd pushed him too hard, he might have tried to kill you anyway," Legend pointed out reasonably.
My hands were beginning to shake. "Yeah," I admitted. "I didn't think he would, and I still don't, but … yeah. I was a bit stupid there."
We exited the building and walked down the street, around the corner to where my pickup still waited, locked up by the curb. I stopped and turned to him.
"Look," I told him. "Thanks for being there. I mean it. If you hadn't been there, he might have gone a bit too far on me." I offered my hand.
He nodded and shook it. "My pleasure," he replied. "If you can really save the world - "
"Not me," I corrected him. "You guys. I've just got the bare bones. It's up to you to make it into a real plan, and make it work."
He smiled, acknowledging the point. He had one of those infectious smiles; I found myself liking him on instinct, over and above the gratitude for saving my life. "Yes, but you're the one who's pointing us in the right direction."
I grinned. "It's kind of my job. I'm the guy who knows stuff, remember?"
"So I understand," he replied dryly. "Just by the way, did you know this war was going to happen?"
I shook my head. "One was going to happen, but in the previous instance, it started for a different reason, with different people instigating it. Bakuda kicked it off the last time, with the intention of freeing Lung. So when she was captured, I thought that was done with."
"Hm," he mused. "That's interesting."
"One way to put it," I agreed, as dryly as he had a moment ago. "Anyway, I'm going to get home before anyone else decides to kidnap me."
"Not your home," he decided. "That's not secure. Kaiser proved that, on Friday night. The PRT building will be safer, at least until the current crisis is dealt with."
I nodded, acknowledging the point. "You'll let them know that I'm on the way?"
"I'll do better than that," he told me. "I'll escort you in."
I shrugged as I unlocked the door and got in. "Not going to argue."
End of Chapter Thirty-Six