Sunday, February 13, 2011
Opening her copy of the Sunday edition of the Brockton Bay Chronicle, Emily slowly leafed through it as she ate breakfast, reveling in the foods she could now eat without risking her life. She wasn't particularly happy about the diet the PRT dietitian had insisted on but even so it was better than what she'd been reduced to by her diabetes and other medical issues.
Reading the paper was becoming an unusual habit these days, since so much of the information people acquired was now provided online, but she liked the tactile feeling of the paper and the smell of the freshly printed ink. It was something she remembered from her own parents, arguing over the news each morning. Smiling faintly at the thought, she kept reading.
A small article about the low pressure zone currently bringing fog and rain to the bay area caught her eye, near the front rather than on the weather page due to it being close to actual news. Glancing out the window she could see it was still very misty, her apartment being high enough to have a view of the water and the Rig under clearer conditions. Today, though, all it showed was gray indistinct shadows of the closer buildings and nothing further away. The report said the current conditions were due to lift by late Monday afternoon and from then on until the weekend fine weather was expected with higher than normal temperatures.
That was something she looked forward to, she didn't like the winter. At least this year the snow had been fairly mild for Brockton Bay. Some years they got vast amounts, this time it had so far been a little below average.
Turning the page she read another article, this one about some strike in Minneapolis that had made the national news, something about mining, then passed over a couple of fluff pieces after a quick skim of them. Eventually she ended up at the section covering announcements and important events, seeing at the top of the page a large one issued by the Mayor's office. She read it idly while nibbling some bacon, then stopped, staring. Going back to the top she read the article again much more carefully
Office of the Mayor of the City of Brockton Bay
Notice of Major Public Works
Issued February 13th 2011
Immediate distribution to all media sources
The Mayor and City Council wish to inform the City of Brockton Bay of recently scheduled
public works that will be taking place in the bay itself during the course of Tuesday,
February 15th, and would like to apologize for the short notice. Unfortunately for a number
of technical reasons this work required immediate actioning and as such there was
insufficient time to give more notice.
The work will commence at approximately 2 PM and should be complete by Midnight
barring unexpected delays. From one hour before the commencement time to one hour
after the completion time, there will be an exclusion zone as marked on the map below,
both in the Docks area of the city, and on the water. BBPD and the Harbor Police
will be enforcing this zone with roadblocks and patrol boats. For their own safety the
public is requested to avoid this area during the relevant times.
Please note: There will be significant and unusual events taking place in the Bay during
the course of the operation. The Mayor's Office and the Council would like to reassure
the public that there is no risk posed by these events and that there is no need to panic.
Spectators who wish to have a closer look at the operation in progress may gather at the
areas marked on the map which will provide a good viewpoint. Do not attempt to enter the
exclusion zone while operations are in progress.
Brockton Bay Dock Worker's Union members are providing crowd control personnel for
this operation free of charge and the Mayor would like to pass on his thanks personally
for their help.
Parahuman support for this operation is provided by BBFO, LLC, again free of charge.
Once more the Mayor would like to pass on thanks for the civic pride demonstrated.
Further information will be announced on Monday, both via traditional media sources
and on the City website.
The attached map showed that most of the roads into and out of the Docks were included in the landward exclusion zone, which appeared to be centered on the DWU facility, while the water-based zone extended half a mile from shore on the northern side of the bay, all the way to the entrance and past the position of the grounded tanker that had been a fixture of the scenery for so long no one paid it any attention any more.
"What the hell?" she muttered, reading the thing once more. What did it mean by Parahuman support? Why was it emphasizing that there was no need to panic? And who the hell were BBFO, LLC? She'd never heard of that company before.
Grabbing her laptop she flipped it open and started poking around in the companies registry, soon finding the documentation regarding the company in questions. With growing disbelief she read it, then the supporting documents, waivers, and licenses.
"I had no idea that was even possible," she exclaimed out loud in surprise when she'd finished going over the evidence. Someone had put a lot of work into finding every last loophole in the Parahuman Commerce Act, not to mention a whole slew of other laws that had been influenced by the PRT over the years. As far as she could see from the publicly available records it was all legal, and sufficiently bulletproof that anyone trying to unpick it would be tied up in red tape for years.
Reluctantly impressed, she stared at the names on the company registration document, which listed the currently associated members of BBFO, LLC.
They were rather familiar. "Danny Hebert," she sighed. "And Saurial and Raptaur. Why am I not surprised?" Those three names seemed to be appearing more and more these days, often together in one way or another. She was beginning to dread it. "What the fuck is the connection between Hebert, the DWU, and those two? And whatever the hell is out there somewhere in the Atlantic."
Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, finishing a cold cup of coffee off while thinking. "This is going to be a weird week, I can feel it," she grumbled.
While she had considerable respect for the Hebert man's abilities, the company documentation made her think it was probably not entirely his own work. The DWU had a good and apparently rather sneaky legal department, she remembered that from past encounters, and she suspected that they had done a lot of the work. It was probably Hebert's idea to start with, though. It seemed like the sort of thing he'd do.
"Maybe I should hire him," she sighed, looking at the paper again. "God knows he could probably give Kaiser as big a headache as the one he's giving me." Shaking her head while wondering what the hell the Mayor was up to, she tried to think of the most effective way to find out without going cap in hand and simply asking, which she was very disinclined to do considering their history.
Emily decided to ask Triumph if he knew anything, although given his family loyalty it was unlikely that if he did he'd actually tell her. It was worth a try though.
She also needed to talk to Hannah again.
Whatever was going to happen on Tuesday, she wanted to be ready for it.
Mind you, it couldn't be too spectacular, probably.
Right?
She stared unseeingly out into the fog, then sighed heavily once again, got up, and retrieved a precious bottle of beer from the fridge, removing the top and taking a deep swallow of the contents.
"I hate this city," she muttered, and drank again.
Amy glanced at her sister, then both of them went back to watching their mother, who was sitting at the kitchen table staring at a glass of fizzing water which was slowly dissolving an over the counter remedy for upset stomachs and the other symptoms of a hangover. She looked like the sound of the bubbles breaking on the surface of the water was making her head ring like a bell.
The normally elegantly made up face and neatly styled hair was replaced with a visage that made it seem like Carol Dallon had spend the night upside down in a bush then got dressed in the dark, possibly underwater. Her face was extremely pale while her eyes were so bloodshot they looked almost entirely red. Experimentally, Amy dropped a fork on the floor, the metallic ringing sound making her mother twitch violently, then moan, holding her head.
"Amy, please don't do that," she mumbled with her hands over her eyes. "I'm feeling a little fragile right now."
"Had a bit much to drink, did you, Mom?" Vicky said somewhat snidely. The eyes made a reappearance, then closed in pain.
"Possibly just a little, yes," she finally admitted in a low voice.
"You and Aunt Sarah went through seven bottles of wine between you," the blonde noted acidly. "I counted. And Dad says he only had two glasses. I'm surprised you're even awake. Aunt Sarah is still snoring on the sofa."
"Oh, is that what that noise is?" Amy asked brightly, making Carol wince again and mutter something unintelligible. She stuck her head around the doorway into the living room and checked. Sure enough her adoptive aunt was lying face down on the large sofa making a noise that sounded like she was trying to suck mud through a hosepipe with her nose, then on the exhale start a chainsaw by blowing into it. She grinned, pulling out her phone and taking a couple of photos, then recording thirty seconds of video to show Crystal and Eric.
Feeling a presence beside her she looked around to see Vicky, also recording it. They smirked at each other. "Good blackmail material," her sister whispered.
"Good idea," she whispered back.
"Please stop shouting, girls," Carol moaned from behind them. "I'll do whatever you want, just keep the noise down."
"Can I have a car?" Amy asked, grinning. She's asked before and the answer was always no, although she had a driver's license.
"Whatever you want, dear," Carol said faintly, lowering her forehead to the table. Moments later they heard a snore.
The two girls looked at each other.
"Wow. She's really out of it," Vicky giggled.
"I'll say. I bet she doesn't remember this when she wakes up," Amy sighed, still smiling a little. She put her hand on Carol's neck, concentrating for a moment. "Holy shit. I'm surprised she was even conscious with this amount of alcohol still in her bloodstream." With a moment's work she cleaned most of it up and fixed a few small issues, but left enough ethanol metabolites behind to ensure that the woman would have a headache when she came around again, probably a couple of hours later. After a little thought she made sure it would be at least two hours.
"Take her up to bed and I'll sort out Aunt Sarah as well," she instructed, telling her sister what she'd done.
Vicky nodded with a smile of her own, picking her mother up easily. "You have a mean streak, Sis," she commented.
"Believe it," Amy smirked. "I'm still mad at her in some ways."
"Me too. But I think she's at least realized she did something wrong."
The blonde left with their mother, while she went into the living room and checked on Sarah, who had rolled over and was now making a noise like a somewhat unwell jackhammer. "Christ," she muttered, "How can she sleep through that? It's inside her head!" The noise was bad enough from her point of view.
Shaking her head she touched her aunt on the hand, quickly reducing the alcohol load to a small enough amount that she'd only feel a little unwell. Amy felt it was important that both women had a reminder of their epic bender, but liked her aunt a lot and didn't want her too badly punished for overindulgence.
While she was watching, Sarah gargled a little, then licked her lips, an expression of revulsion crossing them. "Jesus, what the hell did I eat?" she asked faintly, more of herself than anyone else.
"Your share of seven bottles of wine, what looks like two large pizzas, several bags of potato chips, and… is this anchovy paste with a spoon in it?" Amy answered somewhat incredulously as she looked around the wrecked living room. It looked like a dozen frat boys had been partying in it for an entire weekend.
Sarah's eyes opened, then she squeaked and closed them again, wincing. "Ow."
"Serves you right, Aunt Sarah," Amy snapped, hands on hips. "I thought you were going to talk sense into Mom, not drink her under the table. Or did she do that to you?"
"It was mutual," Sarah answered faintly, sounding pained. "Amy, be a good girl and stop talking for a moment, will you?"
The woman shook her head, froze, whimpered in pain, then slowly sat up. "Oh, my god, I've never felt this sick in my life," she groaned, paling a little.
"And that's after I fixed most of it," Amy sighed. "The amount of alcohol in your bloodstream was incredible. Mom was even worse. You two idiots could have ended up in hospital."
"I don't suppose you could do something about this headache for your loving Aunt, could you, Amy?" Sarah asked feebly. Relenting a little, Amy sighed heavily, putting her hand on the woman's forehead, which relaxed under her touch seconds later. "Oh, god, that's so much better," she whispered, smiling.
"You seriously need to drink about two pints of water," Amy advised. "You're dehydrated which is making you feel even worse."
"I need to get rid of something before I can drink anything," her aunt replied, shaking her head and standing up quickly, then wobbling around and nearly falling over again. Catching herself she hurried out of the room and up the stairs, past Vicky who was just coming in. They heard the bathroom door close and shrugged at each other.
"Come on, you can help me clean some of this up before she comes back," Amy said, starting to pick up the detritus. Vicky looked around, shook her head in wonder, and pitched in to help, but not before taking a few photos.
"Just in case Mom ever complains about my room again," she grinned, putting her phone away. Amy laughed for a moment, stacking mostly empty pizza boxes into a pile.
"Where's dad?" she asked.
"Still in bed. I think they kept him awake with all the noise last night. I went to bed early with earplugs in and put my head under the pillow," Vicky explained. "They must have passed out before you came in."
"The lights were out and I was tired so I went straight up to bed," her sister said as they cleaned. "I got in about one AM or so. Raptaur dropped me off. She said to thank you again for all your help yesterday."
"It was a lot of fun," Vicky remarked with a smile. "I'd be up for that sort of thing again. And I'm really curious about Tuesday."
She looked beseechingly at Amy, who merely smiled back and shook her head. "I made a promise, I can't tell you."
"You're no fun at all, Ames," Vicky grinned. After a moment, she added, "Do you really want a car? You have me to transport you. Or Raptaur."
"It would be useful," Amy replied honestly. "I was mainly saying it because I wanted to see what happened, but now I think about it, I sort of do want one. Maybe when she sobers up we can talk about it."
"You're nearly eighteen and have a license so I can't see what the problem would be," Vicky said, carrying a box of empty wine bottles into the kitchen. "Oh, look, it was eight bottles, not seven. I miscounted." They exchanged a look and sighed. "Anyway, we can afford a car, Mom makes a decent living. I don't need one, of course. Only peasants drive."
Amy laughed, giving her sister a fond look.
"When we've finished, and talked to Aunt Sarah to find out what the hell happened here last night, want to go over and see if Taylor wants to go out for a burger?" she asked.
"Sure. She seems nice. I wonder if what she was doing yesterday was successful?"
Smirking, Amy shrugged. "Probably. She's pretty smart and competent."
They heard footsteps on the stairs and looked to see Sarah, still appearing somewhat disheveled, but less so, coming back into the living room. She sat down and held her head in her hands for a moment, then looked up at them peering at her from the kitchen. An embarrassed smile crossed her face.
"In my defense, it seemed like a good idea at the time," she started, causing both girls to snicker, then come in to find out what had happened.
"How did you get on with Armsmaster and Dragon, dear?" Danny asked as his daughter came into his office and leaned on the door frame, smiling at him. Turning away from his computer he faced her.
"Very well, I think," she replied, looking amused. "It was interesting. Their weapon is… a little over the top. And big. We made a prototype and talked about it for a while, then they went away to work out the politics of using it."
"Politics?" he queried, frowning. "What the hell is it that has a political aspect? A nuclear bomb?"
"No, it just uses a little one as the main charge," she grinned. He gaped. "Only a tiny one, like this," she added, holding up a shiny metal sphere six inches in diameter. Danny flinched and pressed himself back into his chair. "Relax, this isn't a real one, it's a copy of the dummy fusion core Armsmaster brought over," she giggled, watching him.
As color came back into his face he sighed heavily. "Your sense of humor is worse than mine, and mine is strange. You scared the crap out of me with that thing."
"I promise I won't bring live fusion weapons into the house, Dad," she laughed.
"Like that makes it any better," he mumbled. "I think you'd better explain some more about this weapon. It sounds dangerous."
"Isn't that the point of a weapon?" she asked in a reasonable tone. He gave her a hard look.
"You know very well what I mean."
"Of course I do," she smiled, then began her explanation.
Taylor watched her father's face as she finished telling him about the nuclear shotgun. He'd gone a series of odd colors during her talk, which amused both her and the Varga. "That man is a menace," he finally muttered.
"He's just trying to save people," she pointed out. "Like I am. But in his own way. I sort of like him, I think. He's a little odd, sure, but he means well. Dragon is… interesting… as well." She didn't mention anything about how she was certain that the Canadian hero's power suit hadn't contained anything alive, or at least biological, since she was still thinking about her conclusions. There were several possibilities that she and the Varga could see and neither one could work out the most likely yet. Not to mention, it was a private matter in any case, one she didn't think Dragon would like to have passed around, any more than she would with similarly sensitive information about herself.
"Still, it seems like a rather excessively over the top weapon," her father commented.
"It's a lot less excessive than some of the things I can do," she replied with a small smile. "But I don't want anyone to know about that yet, if I can avoid it. There's too much room for panic. If his huge gun will work on an Endbringer, I'm perfectly happy to help him with it."
She thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Besides, it's pretty likely that the only way they can use the thing is if I use it. Put a stock on it and Kaiju could wave it around like a skeet gun. Even so, the recoil is pretty impressive. I'd still need their inertial damping gadget or it would knock me half a mile when I pulled the trigger even if we add as much mass as possible."
"I hope you don't need to use it, Taylor," he sighed, looking worried.
"If I do? Would you let me?"
"Could I actually stop you?" He seemed a little depressed.
Worried, she walked over to him and squatted in front of him, holding his hands. "Easily. Just tell me not to, and I wouldn't. You're my father, I listen to your advice. Don't ever worry about that." She smiled at him, getting a smile back, and a squeeze of her hands in his. "But I hope if it becomes necessary you'd let me go and help. I'm probably one of the few people who hasn't got too much to worry about from an Endbringer, but I really don't want to see anyone else get hurt. If I can help, isn't that something I sort of have to do? I mean, I was given these abilities for a reason. Maybe that's it."
After several seconds, he nodded reluctantly. "I suppose so. You're right, of course. But it's hard to let my only daughter go off to fight the things that have killed millions. Even knowing she's practically indestructible and has a giant alien demon living in her head."
"I'm not precisely in her head, Danny," the Varga spoke through her, as she let him. "But I can assure you that I won't let any harm befall Taylor, or you, if it is in my power to prevent it. We have studied these Endbringers. They are extremely powerful even in my terms, but not unbeatable. And I can say with confidence that Taylor herself is at little risk from them. And none from this weapon of Armsmasters. It is far too low powered to be dangerous to us."
"Thank you, Varga," her father said after a few seconds. "That helps."
"You're most welcome, Danny," her companion said, then retreated back to listen and watch.
"See? If you can't trust a demon..." she giggled.
Sighing, he patted her on the head.
"I'm sure that makes sense to you, Taylor," he smiled. "Changing the subject completely, did you manage to get the dock cleaned out last night?"
"I started the work but by the time I'd taken Amy home it was pretty late," she admitted. "I thought I'd finish it off today. It's still pretty foggy, if anything even more so than it was yesterday, and the tide will be high around midday, so I'll go and do it then. There's only about an hour or two of work left."
"All right, that sounds good," he replied. "I'll be going down to the yard later myself to see how it's coming along. Do you want to come with me rather than run there?"
"Sure," she smiled. "We haven't been in the car together since Amy came over the first time."
Her phone rang in her pocket, making her stand, then pull it out and look at it. "Speaking of which," she added, before answering it. "Hi, Amy."
A brief conversation ensued, by the end of which she was smiling. Slipping the device back into her pocket, she said, "Amy and Vicky are coming over. They're thinking of going for a burger. I can be back by just after twelve if that's all right."
"Of course. Say hi to the girls for me." Her father checked the clock, then nodded. "That gives you about three hours. Would you like a lift into town?"
"That might be an idea," she said, thinking for a moment. "Vicky is carrying Amy, but I doubt she can easily do that to two people at once, and she doesn't know about me, so that's out as well. I'll ask them when they get here but we might well take you up on it."
"Just let me know, dear. But in the meantime, I have some work to finish, so I'll talk to you later, OK?"
"Sure, Dad," she smiled, leaving the study and going into the kitchen for a drink of water while she waited for the other two to arrive.
Brian looked at Alec, then paused the game they were playing, both of them turning to watch Lisa who was pacing back and forth in the kitchen area, muttering to herself with an evil smirk on her face.
"She makes me nervous when she does that," the smaller man said in a whisper, leaning toward Brian, who nodded slowly. He shared the feeling. For the last few weeks, the girl had been different, and in the previous week or so, happy in a weird sort of manner that made his skin crawl when he thought about it.
There was something disturbing about her grin when he caught her thinking and staring at her strange collection of pictures, notes, and scraps which she'd pinned to the wall of her room.
"Lisa?" he tried cautiously. She stopped, looking over at him, the grin widening.
"Yes, Brian?" she replied cheerily.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked, still carefully.
"No, of course there isn't," she smiled. "Why would you think that?"
"Because you're wandering around mumbling like a Bond villain, Tats," Alec replied. "With a really creepy look on your face. What's up with that?"
"Nothing," she assured them. "Just got a mission from the Boss. A nice easy one."
"Is that where you were this morning?" Brian asked curiously. She nodded, smiling.
The smile was less creepy now but still mildly disturbing.
"What's the job?" Alec asked.
"Knock over an ABB safe house and clean it out," she replied, making them exchange a glance.
"Um… Lisa, that doesn't sound like 'a nice easy mission.'" Brian said slowly. "More like 'a good way to die.' Lung isn't going to let that go. He's sort of… irritable?"
"He's a fucking lunatic, is what you mean," Alec noted, his normally ever-present smile slipping a bit. "Oni Lee is worse. I don't really want to get stabbed, shot, blown up, or roasted, if it's all the same to you."
Lisa waved a hand dismissively. "Oni Lee is on the other side of the city, according to the Boss. I think he's set up a diversion. Lung will be nowhere near the place. It's just a dozen mooks with AKs. We go in, take them out, grab everything that isn't nailed down, and get the hell out. By the time Lung hears about it we'll be long gone."
"And then he comes after us," Brian pointed out. "Because he holds a grudge like no-one else."
"He won't know it's us if we're careful," she smirked. "I have a cunning plan. And four disguises."
"Rachel's dogs are going to be a little distinctive," Alec commented.
"Which is why she stays out of sight. She's the getaway system and the emergency backup." Lisa sat on one of the stools next to the counter. "With any luck they won't be needed and no one will see her or them. Look, the Boss got these for us." She picked up a bag that was on the floor, opening it and removing a number of items. Both of them got up and went over.
"Plans of the storm drains under the building in question. Stun grenades, flashbangs, smoke grenades, and four gas masks." She held up each item in question as she spoke. "These are Tinker-tech sleep gas grenades. They'll knock out everyone in the building in under thirty seconds. We come up through the basement, gas the guards, crack the strong room, take everything, set off the smoke and flashbangs to cover our escape, and run. It should all be over in about five minutes."
"Why does he need us to do this, if it's so easy?" Alec asked, picking up one of the gas grenades and inspecting it curiously. "He could hire practically anyone for something like this."
"If it goes wrong, we'll need you, Brian, and Rachel. My job is to crack the security on the safe house storeroom. His information is that there's nearly two hundred thousand dollars in there, which we get to keep. There's also some paperwork which he wants." Lisa smiled at them. "You guys in? Fifty thousand each, or possibly more."
They exchanged a glance.
"That's a lot of money."
"True." Brian stared at the pile of equipment on the table.
"And if Tats is right, it should be pretty simple. Especially with all of this."
"Also true."
"And we're bored stiff, we haven't had a job in weeks."
"Extremely true." Brian sighed. "OK, I'm in."
Alec nodded. "Me too. What about Rachel?"
"I'm in," the rough voice of the girl in question said from the doorway. She gave them all a look. "I'm bored too."
"Great." Lisa smirked, rubbing her hands together, then unfolded the plans. "OK, let's go over it. I want to hit them about four this afternoon, that's when they're eating according to the info the Boss has."
She pulled out a notebook and began writing things in it, while they all gathered around the counter-top and the opened plans. "What's that?" Alec asked, pointing at a closed transparent plastic bag that seemed to have a used tissue in it. She glanced up, then at where his finger was pointing.
The evil grin came back, stronger than ever. "Just a tissue the Boss handed me. I had a stuffed up nose."
"And you kept it? Yuck."
"You never know, it might come in handy," she said, looking pleased as she went back to her notes. The other three exchanged glances, shrugged, and resumed going over the paperwork.
Lisa smirked at her little bagged sample.
One that Coil had given her personally, right from the box on his desk, with his own hand.
The weird little giggle she produced made all three of her friends give her a strange look but they said nothing. Soon they were discussing the best way to pull of the heist and her odd behavior was forgotten.