The balcony overlooked an urban sprawl that stretched in every direction. The city flowed like liquid on the streets below. Thousands were running about their daily lives, barely specks of colour to the lone observer, far above them. Jaune imagined what it'd be like to live his entire life up here, with this view of the rest of humanity. Everybody looked so small. The room they were staying in was more than a month's salary from his old job per night. Jaune hadn't expected to end up here at this point of his life.
He put the joint in his hand to his mouth, pulling a long, gentle drag. He noticed his bangs were starting to hang into his peripheral vision again. He smiled, ruffling his own hair; the shaved look definitely hadn't been him. He leaned out over the railing of the balcony. The city was a constant hum. Sirens were going off somewhere in the distance.
He heard the door behind him slide open. Pyrrha had stepped out, a coffee press in one hand, fingers on the other hand threaded through the handles of a pair of mugs. Jaune smiled and tapped the ash from the end of the joint. Pyrrha gave him a warm smile, then wordlessly set the mugs on the table beside him. Jaune held the joint out to her as she poured, and she took it. She took a drag that she seemed to relish with her whole body, then handed it back to Jaune. She picked up her own mug with both hands, and sipped it as she looked across the city. She was wearing a thick hoodie and baggy jeans. Jaune's own hoodie was open, the name Biting Elbows visible on his T-shirt underneath.
Jaune picked up his coffee, thanked Pyrrha, and blew on it. There was nothing left of his joint but the tip, which he crushed into the ashtray on the table. The police scanner next to it was chattering idly, occasionally intercepting short transmissions. Pyrrha was peering at Jaune from over her mug with a mellow disapproval. Jaune smiled at her.
"What're you thinking?" He asked.
"You know what I'm thinking."
"Last chance to change the plan," Jaune said, "I know. There's no other way to find the facility. We know Atlas will bring them there."
"How long will they survive there?"
"Long enough for us to have another shot at springing them," Jaune said, "If we hurry. If this works."
Pyrrha sipped her coffee. Jaune tossed his coffee back in one gulp. He grabbed the coffee press, and the two headed back inside.
Inside the hotel room, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie were seated on the couch. Another police scanner sat on the coffee table, a coiled wire leading away from it to the headphones wrapped about Nora's neck. Ren and Nora were embracing, their foreheads pressed together.
"Nora, anything?" Jaune asked.
Nora looked up to him. She glanced to the scanner that she was supposed to be focused on.
"They're returning to station," She stated, "Targets secured."
"That's our cue to go, then," Jaune said, "Ren, you ready?"
Ren nodded. He stood, having to pull himself from Nora's embrace to head towards the door. He pulled on his shoes; Jaune was already wearing his sneakers.
"Be safe," Pyrrha said.
"We will," Jaune said, "Stay on the scanner. We'll be back in a few hours- with a whole lot of intel to go through."
"Steal something pretty from the evidence locker for me," Nora called.
"Will do," Ren said.
The two young men exited the hotel room. They crossed the halls to the elevators, and hit the call button. They waited in silence, and boarded the car without a word. Jaune hit the 'ground floor' button, and the elevator went down.
"Remember," Ren said, "Act natural, act inconspicuous. Don't do anything to draw attention, and we don't get any attention."
"Right," Jaune said.
"Stay within a few meters of me. We're not invisible, but nobody's going to be looking."
"Right."
The doors opened, and the two walked out into the lobby. Though they walked directly past the receptionist and the security guard, neither looked in their direction. They walked out to the parking lot and to their most recently acquired vehicle. It was a bright yellow four-door sedan. The cheap, ugly thing stuck out more than a bit in this parking lot, surrounded by Italian sports cars, and black Hummers without so much as a fleck of dirt on their tires. It would blend in better at the police station, still registered to its former owner since changing hands the previous night. He worked at the station, and he had a gambling problem. Ren climbed into the driver's seat, and Jaune into the passenger side. They pulled out of the parking lot and headed deeper into the city.
Ren clicked the large button on the remote control clipped to the sun visor, and the heavy door of the enclosed parking structure trundled open on command.
They pulled into a parking spot a short distance from the parked cruisers. The door into the station proper was a short walk, just out of view.
Jaune opened the glove compartment and looked in at the Beretta. If everything went to plan, he wouldn't need a gun in there. He could steal one inside, if he needed one. Of course, if the job were going that badly, they'd hopefully be exfil-ing, not picking a fight. After a moment's thought, he closed the glove compartment.
He pulled out his smartphone and made a call. He switched the phone to speaker while it rang and laid it on the dash.
"Hey Jaune," Nora answered.
"Nora, vehicle parked," Jaune said, "We're at the station."
"Coolio."
"We're ready to infiltrate," Jaune said, "Doublecheck your alarms."
"They're on," Nora said, "Somebody on the scanner mentioned Ironwood. He's there."
"He won't see us," Ren said.
"Just be careful, okay?"
"We will."
Jaune and Ren stepped out of the car, and marched towards the door into the station. The camera pointed at the door began hitching as they drew close, dropping a few frames at a time before freezing entirely just as the two of them entered its field of view. Jaune pulled the door open and held it for Ren. They entered a small landing, with a short staircase up to the security booth ahead.
There was a second door in the way, this one controlled from the security booth next to it. The cop inside didn't look at them as they entered. Ren reached through the small slot in the bulletproof glass and hit the button to unlock the door. The cop glanced at the door in confusion as it swung open, but said nothing to the two teenaged boys striding through it. The door swung shut again, and the cop returned his attention to his phone.
The grainy image on the old computer monitor flickered. For a moment, the security camera's feed was replaced with a burst of white noise. The girl seated at the table, the focus of the camera's gaze, seemed to jump about in place, going from laying face down, forehead rested on her arms, to slouching back in her chair. The camera seemed to lose focus for a moment, then readjusted, making her image clear again. The girl was idly tapping her fingers on the tabletop, causing a slight rattle to pass through the chains attached to her wrists.
The computer monitor was in a darkened room, set on the desk next to another. Intermittently, similar bursts of static would interrupt the feeds on the monitors. Two monitors, two rooms, two prisoners. On the left monitor was the young one. She was a teenager, wearing a red hoodie, which she wore hood up, skewing her dark bangs over her eyes. She was chained to the table she sat at. The other had a noticeably different set-up; her chair featured massive armrests. They weren't there for the sake of comfort; they allowed her arms to be strapped into place as tightly as her torso, legs, and head.
The personnel in the dark security office stared at the monitors through a haze of cigarette smoke. There was one man, a comm tech, seated in an office chair, controlling the different security feeds. Behind him, the Chief of Police took a sip from his coffee mug. The Colonel next to him was staring at the feeds, and although he wasn't consciously aware of it, his hand was hovering near the holster of his revolver. Behind them, Jaune tapped Ren's arm and pointed the movement out. Ren nodded.
"Cams have been doing that," the comm tech said, "Interference, focus breathing, shit like that. Might be a firmware issue."
The colonel took a drag from his cigarette.
"It's not a goddam firmware problem," He said, "It's them. Just being near them."
"We don't know that's the case," The chief said, "We don't know the extent of their Abilities."
"No, we don't," The colonel said, "We probably can't. Every second we keep them alive, we're risking this facility and its personnel."
"That's you, isn't it?" Jaune asked Ren.
"That's me," Ren said.
The chief took another sip of coffee, then set the mug down on the desk in front of him. Ren stepped forward and took the mug right from the desk. Ozpin's hand reached for where the mug had been, and found nothing. The man's face seemed to register only a second's confusion before his arm simply dropped back to his side. Jaune held in a snicker, as if he needed to.
"Don't like the look of that one," The Colonel said, "I doubt she really knows what she's doing with... whatever it is. The other one we can use, if we give her the right incentive."
"It's too early to say that," The chief mused, "You look at these girls and you see a threat. I see potential. They're young... the red one, there, she's what, fifteen? They can be convinced to act in their own self-interest."
"Fascist dickhead," Jaune grunted.
"One of them," The Colonel said, "We're only taking one of them."
"Our other two successful candidates-"
"-rely on each other, as you've said. They'll choose each other over you, someday."
"Candidates, he says," Jaune said, "They've got more than one. I told you, it's like a weird super-soldier program or some shit."
Ren nodded.
"The instant I decide we can't control these two, you do as you see fit," Chief Ozpin said, "Hell, wouldn't be the first time I've put one of these things down myself. For the moment, this is my precinct, and they are under my custody."
"See what I mean about working with this guy?" Jaune asked.
"What a dick," Ren replied.
The colonel let these words hang in the air a moment, then walked towards the door.
"I'll start, then," He said, "I'll start with the red one."
The chief looked towards him in surprise. He pushed his small, rounded glasses up his nose bridge.
"James," He said, "Do I have to be afraid of putting you and her in the same room?"
Colonel Ironwood stroked his chin, then scoffed.
"Trust me."
"Hate that guy too," Ren said.
"Can't wait to kill that asshole," Jaune said.
They watched Ironwood enter the room with the girl. They watched him sit down. Ren sipped from Ozpin's mug. Ozpin glanced about at the sound, then shook his head and returned his attention to the monitors.
I'm Colonel James Ironwood, of the Atlas Initiative."
"Should I know what that is?" The girl scoffed.
"Part of my job is ensuring that you don't," Ironwood said, "The Atlas Initiative was activated six months ago. First among its objectives is identifying and neutralizing, well, people like you."
Jaune nearly dropped his phone to the floor in his rush to get it from his pocket. He started recording.
"Post-Humans."
"Is that the term these days? All of our documentation still uses 'Aberrant'."
"Yeah. Yeah, all your documentation uses Aberrant. Uh huh."
Jaune glanced to Ren with a snicker. Ren grinned in response.
"To be honest," Ironwood said, "We're still analyzing the footage we captured of you. Your sister, we understand, but you? Can you describe your Ability?"
The girl laughed. A bitter, sarcastic laugh.
"Sure! Would you like to know my one goddam weakness while I'm at it?" She spat, "Let me just give you my fucking kryptonite."
"Oh man, this girl is cool," Jaune said, aiming his smartphone at the monitor.
"We know you're not teleporting," Ironwood said, "And we know the... damage you did wasn't telekinesis. I suspect some form of superhuman speed."
"How about a demonstration? Uncuff me and time how long it takes me to kill my way to Yang."
Even Ren offered a chuckle at that one. Jaune mouthed the name 'Yang' to him, and Ren nodded.
"I also suspect that you're bluffing," Ironwood said, "If you were able to break yourself and your sister out of here, you'd have done it by now, and I'd figure out your Ability by examining the pieces of anybody who got in your way. As I said, we've figured your sister out already, so if I have to go talk to her, the conversation will be much shorter. Tell me what you do."
Now the girl looked directly into the camera. It was like she was staring right through the screen, directly at Jaune.
"Don't," Ren whispered, "Don't tell them. Don't give it to them."
"I'm fast," She said, "Really fast. When I move, everything else, it's like it's frozen. I don't... feel myself moving faster, but I can walk faster than a bullet. They just hang in the air- or inch along, I guess."
Ren sighed.
"What choice does she have?" Jaune asked, shaking his head.
"That would explain you disappearing from the dashcam footage between frames of video," Ironwood said, "It doesn't explain how you sent a cop flying hard enough to crush his ribcage."
"I punched him," She said, "I turned the Ability on, and I walked up and punched him. Three times, maybe. When people are frozen like that... it's like punching a wall. But I can't even guess how fast my fist was going. He was going to kill her. I didn't have a choice."
"Holy shit, that's busted," Jaune said.
"Fuck," Ren said.
"That is so strong, oh my God," Jaune said, "That's like- that's like-"
"Like we wouldn't need to do much to help them bust out of here," Ren said.
"We need to stick to the plan," Jaune said, "But… hang on…"
"Miss Rose, from where you're sitting, I'm sure it seems like you have very few options," Ironwood said, "I want to assure you, you are overestimating the number. There is no escape for you. No freedom. No life that I do not control. You have two options, exactly two: An unceremonious death, or compliance."
The girl stared down at the chain binding her hands.
"What kind of compliance?"
Ren checked his phone, and held it out to Jaune, pointing at the clock.
Nora was lounged, TV remote in one hand, the other hand buried in the bag of chips in her lap. Her attention was split, unevenly, between the television and the young woman at the other end of the couch. On the TV, talking heads discussing Jacques Schnee's latest campaign speech. They were throwing out baseless conjecture about his children's various scandals. The text crawl beneath mentioned the successful apprehension of two Aberrant fugitives by Cleveland Police. Nora's view of the TV was divided in half by the bong on the table. In the woman's hands was a small metal cylinder, with a slot for a key at one end. The woman's eyes were closed, but her face was drawn with pure concentration. A small click came from with the cylinder.
"That's the first pin," She whispered.
Nora drew a chip from the bag and slowly bit into it. Another click, another tiny mechanical motion.
"Second, and the first is… good."
Nora chewed slowly. For a moment, Pyrrha released her hands from the lock, letting it hover in mid-air. It began rotating in place and she clasped hold of it again. Every few seconds, the metal hair tie at the end of her braid would seem to jump in place, sending patterns of movement up the long coil of strikingly red hair.
Another click. Pyrrha winced for a second, then tossed the cylinder to the table. Nora grunted in dismay, rather than speak with her mouth full. After a moment of pouting in frustration, Pyrrha waved her hand, and the cylinder leapt back into it. She waved her hand, and a small tool laying on the table followed suit. She slid the lockpick into the slot, and with a brief chorus of clicks, the lock flew open. It had appeared effortless to Nora's eyes. Pyrrha nodded, withdrew the lockpick, clicked the lock shut again, and closed her eyes.
"Believe in you, girl," Nora said.
Pyrrha smiled, producing the click of the first pin with a flick of one finger. Her brow furrowed as she began on the second. From the coffee table, a chime came from Nora's phone. Not a text notification, or a call. The alarm clock.
"What's that?" Pyrrha asked.
Nora made a hopeless effort to reach the phone without moving anything but her arm. She didn't remember setting an alarm. Had she put on food or something? She shoved herself to one side to get closer to the device, and picked it up. She looked down at the message on the screen.
"'Jaune and Ren at cop shop'," She read, "'Call to make sure they are okay.'"
The words took a moment to make sense to Nora. Pyrrha opened her eyes, her lip curled in confusion.
"Oh shit, they are!" Pyrrha said.
"Right, the- the- mission thing," Nora said, sitting up, glancing at the bong, "For fuck's sake."
"God, it's weird every time," Pyrrha said.
She set the lock aside and grabbed the police scanner. She hadn't been paying any attention to the intermittent chatter. Nora held out the phone as it rang.
"Hey Nora," Ren said.
"Hey Ren," Nora said, "How's the- right, you're in the cop shop, how's that going?"
"You had the moment again, didn't you?" He asked.
"Yeah, I didn't like take a rip a couple minutes ago, or anything."
Jaune's laughter in the background.
"They caught both of them," Ren said, "It's them. Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long."
"So that's why Atlas is in Cleveland," Pyrrha whispered, "This has always been about them."
"Think they're trying to get their Abilities figured out before moving them to the Atlas facility," Ren said.
"Hey Jaune?" Nora asked.
"Right here," Jaune said.
"Do you think those girls will-"
"Look, we're changing the plan," Jaune said, "Alright? You win, we're springing them now."
Pyrrha and Nora glanced to each other.
"What changed?" Nora asked.
"We heard her describe her Ability," Jaune said, "I'm thinking about it. I think she's a Temporal type."
Nora raised an eyebrow.
"No organization doing experiments on Post Humans will risk holding a Temporal alive," Pyrrha said.
"If she reaches that facility, she's dead," Jaune said, "She'll be dissected. I'm not letting that happen."
"Do you need us there?" Pyrrha asked.
"No," Jaune said, "We still have to do this subtle. We grab intel, plant the bug, then look for a window to spring them. Give them an opening to get out."
"You get back here safe," Nora said, "Ren, you good, sweetie?"
"I'm good," Ren said, "See you soon."
"Ren, I'm going to try focusing on the police station itself," Pyrrha said, "Remember something important is happening there."
"You won't remember that it's him," Nora said immediately.
"You won't remember that it's me," Ren said.
"If it occurred to you, you'd just lose your train of thought," Nora noted.
Ren ended the call. He and Jaune were a tad uncomfortably close together, the phone held between them. They had wedged themselves into a single stall in the men's bathroom, where Ren could turn the Ability off safely. Trying to maintain a phone conversation through it was a fucking nightmare. He turned it on again, one hand on Jaune's shoulder. Then they stepped out of the stall.
"Right," Jaune said, "Ozpin's office."
They navigated the halls of the police station, stepping around cops making their way up and down the halls. Jaune had to jump to one side or the other with awkward dodges to keep people from running right into him. A cop passed by them pushing an empty hand truck. He had several lengths of chain slung over one shoulder. Jaune wondered at the oddness of the image a moment, then realized the cop was heading in the direction of the holding cells. Whatever they did would have to be soon.
"While they're being loaded onto the truck," Jaune said, "Or heli, or whatever. Whatever they have the blonde one in the chair for, she'll be strapped in like that when they move her. We walk up and cut her straps."
"They'll be looking right at them," Ren said, "Guns pointed at them, too. Anything happens to those straps..."
"Nothing in the world as dangerous as a jumpy cop," Jaune said.
"Hmm."
They entered the office. A desk, a computer, a wall of accommodations. A display case of picture frames. Jaune walked over to the display case. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jumble of electronics. He confirmed that this was the one with the microphone. The one in his other pocket was a GPS tracker. It seemed they wouldn't be needing that one tonight. He picked out a frame and turned it about. Ren grabbed a ream of paperwork from the chief's inbox and began leafing through it.
Jaune set the frame back down and carefully adjusted the position of the mic. He had a bet going with Nora on how long it would take them to spot it. She insisted it should be put in the vents instead, but Jaune didn't think the audio quality would be good enough.
He went around the desk and sat down in the chief's chair. He opened the top drawer. Laying atop a black notebook was a prominently placed item, as if left there for ease of access. A flask emblazoned with the emblem of the Cleveland Police. Jaune picked it up and gave it a small shake. It felt like about a shot's worth, sloshing around inside.
He opened the flask, and tossed back half of it. He held the flask out to Ren.
"I got enough of that in his coffee," Ren said.
"That's funny," Jaune said, before finishing the rest.
He dropped the flask on the desktop. He opened the bottom drawer.
"Oh, fucking score," he said.
He pulled a stack of paperwork from the drawer and plopped it down on the desk. The papers were stapled together, forming two dossiers. The words 'Atlas Initiative' were printed directly beneath 'Aberrant Case File: Blake Belladonna' on the top page.
"Worth taking," Ren nodded.
Jaune skimmed through the pages. Medical reports, experimental results, transcriptions of interrogations.
"There's gotta be enough in here to point us towards Atlas," Jaune said, "Right, I'm taking this."
"They'll be moving them any minute," Ren said, "Any other ideas?"
Jaune leaned back in the chair, rubbing his chin.
"What if… we steal some flashbangs from the armoury… then cut the power…"
From somewhere else in the building, reverberating down the halls, the thunderous crack of a gunshot. Ren whipped his head about towards the door. Jaune sat up straight. A moment later, the whole building seemed to shake. Everything on the desk's surface shifted slightly. Jaune felt the impact pass through the chair from the floor and hit him like a punch in the chest.
"Fuck was that?" He asked.
There was screaming in the halls outside. Barked orders. Then, more gunfire. Jaune grabbed the Aberrant Case Files and began sliding them into his backpack. Ren walked over to the door and peered out into the hall. Two cops ran past in the direction of the holding cells, guns drawn. They'd almost made it around the corner and out of sight before they were hit. The gun arm of the man in the lead bent back on itself, the gun flipping through the air out of his grip. The other cop's gun whipped out of sight, taking fingers with it. Another cop was drawn around the corner by the howls of pain. He started towards the wounded cops, only to be thrown into the wall by a phantom impact. He was obscured from view by a pile of furniture throwing itself down the hallway, forming a blockade.
"What's happening out there?" Jaune asked.
"Uh," Ren said, "Weird shit. Think they're loose."
"Oh. Well, alright then," Jaune said, "Problem solved. Good job, team."
The girl in the red hoodie was suddenly standing directly in front of the desk. She was looking directly at Jaune.
"Jesus!" He shouted.
Ren did a double take. The girl's eyes weren't focused on Jaune. She seemed to teleport about the room in blinks of the eye, coming to a brief stop crouched over the drawers, directly next to where Jaune was seated. She was rooting through the drawers, tossing items about.
"I-" Jaune began.
In a blink, she was standing straighter, her arm outstretched. She snatched the flask from the desk. She sniffed the open cap, and paused for a moment. Jaune saw a small smile. She stuffed the flask in her pocket, then vanished from the room. Jaune Arc and Lie Ren stared at each other.
"That was hilarious," Jaune said, "Let's go."
Navigating the station on the way out was different than on the way in. There was scattered furniture, property damage, and maimed cops everywhere. Most of the ones still moving looked like they'd live. As they neared the parking garage, Ren pulled a first aid kit from the wall and dropped it into the hands of a man fighting to hold the blood within his neck. He looked at the kit in confusion for a moment, then threw it open. Jaune spotted some cop's shiny chrome personal handgun laying abandoned on the floor, slide back. He picked it up, double-checked the chamber, then pocketed it.
"Must be out of the station by now," Jaune said, "Haven't heard shots in a minute."
"How far do you think they'll make it?" Ren asked.
"With this girl's Ability?" Jaune said, "Bet they make it out of the city, if they can keep a low profile."
They reached the door, guarded from the security booth next to it. It was wedged open. Inside the security booth, the guard was face down, his neck twisted at an oblong angle. His right hand had been laid on the button for the door. At the bottom of the staircase, the Pepsi machine that had been at the top of the stairs was now blocking the door off, burst cans scattering the steps.
"Shit," Jaune said.
Ren slipped down the stairs and hopped onto the machine. He put his back to the wall and put both his feet on the machine's corner. Jaune came down the stairs and grabbed the machine, pulling in the same direction. They slowly shifted the mass of metal out of the way. When they'd made enough room to open the door a short way, Jaune hopped over the machine. Ren pulled on the door, opening it an inch before it stopped again. He looked down in confusion.
"It's jammed," He said.
A cop entered the room at the top of the stairs. He spotted the man in the security booth and shouted for a medic. Jaune motioned for Ren to step out of his way, and Ren obliged. Jaune put his shoulder to the door and slammed against it, over and over. Something was stopping the door from opening on the other side. After a few hits, there was a clatter on the floor as something came free, and Jaune got the door open about a foot and a half. He squeezed through and Ren followed. Jaune motioned to the broom on the floor.
"Jammed it in the door," He said.
Ren picked up the broom and wedged it back under the push bar. Through the small window in the door, they saw somebody approach. They yanked helplessly at the door. Jaune and Ren set off across the garage.
"Think they killed Ironwood in there?" Jaune asked.
"Hope so," Ren said, "But who knows what that guy can survive?"
"Pyrrha is convinced her chain idea will work," Jaune said.
"No reason it wouldn't," Ren said, "As long as she crushes his brain."
"He gets tougher the more damage he takes," Jaune said, "I think. He'd adapt to the chain before it could crush his skull. I think."
"Won't know until we try."
"Can't try until we have a back-up plan."
"Fair enough."
"Hey Ren."
"Yeah?"
"Where's the car?"
They came to a halt. The parking space was empty. Their car was gone.