Various comments after the 'Benny' interlude led me down an interesting path... I wrote most of this a while ago, but decided to finish it off and post it, just for amusement value. We'll see what, if anything, happens to the idea as time goes on.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
ATF Special Agent Matt Smith studied his superior, who was sitting behind his desk, reading a file, while in a seat on the other side a severe-looking woman he'd never seen before was looking through a briefcase. Director Tennant looked up at him, then waved him in.
"Come in, Smith. Shut the door."
He did as requested, standing to attention in front of the desk. The woman was now inspecting him closely, her expression cold yet vaguely approving. "This is Agent Pond from the Treasury. We have an assignment which we both feel you would be a good fit for."
Matt could see out of the corner of his eye that the woman had a folder with his photo in it open in her briefcase. As far as he could tell it was his service record.
"Sir?" he asked politely. "What sort of assignment?"
"An undercover one, on the East Coast," Agent Pond replied before the Director could, her voice as cold as her face. "We need someone who can blend in with a blue-collar organization convincingly, to gather intelligence on a suspected organized crime ring. Probably the largest one in the country, and one no one has ever heard of. They're dangerous, smart, and very connected."
He glanced at her, his eyebrows up, then looked back at the man who told him what to do. "Who are we talking about?"
"The Brockton Bay Dockworkers Union," Director Tennant replied after a moment.
Matt frowned.
"Who?"
"Exactly!" Agent Pond pointed at him triumphantly. "No one has heard of them. Even in an agency that deals with exactly the sort of threat these people represent on a daily basis." She shook her head, her face taking on an actual expression, one of mild admiration mixed with frustration. "It's genius. We can't work out how they've managed it, but hardly anyone outside their own city has ever heard the name, and most people inside that city think they're merely a simple labor union. That man is… annoyingly competent."
"Sit down, Smith," Director Tennant said, looking at his other guest with a faint frown for a moment. Matt moved to the chair indicated. Agent Pond opened her mouth to say something else, but subsided when the man behind the desk held up a hand.
"This is the situation. You are aware of Brockton Bay?"
That part he knew. No one who watched TV or read the news could fail to recognize the name, even before recent events involving lizards of totally absurd sizes swimming around doing Darth Vader impressions.
He nodded.
"Up the coast from Boston, not quite out of Massachusetts. Hotbed of Parahuman activity for some reason. Three major gangs, several smaller ones, also is the location of the PRT ENE base. Some very odd things have been going on there over the last few months that seem to involved a number of reptilian Parahumans."
"Correct." The Director looked pleased. "What you won't have heard is that there are actually four major gangs. The three well known ones, the Empire Eighty Eight, the Azn Bad Boys, and the Archer's Bridge Merchants, are the ones people all over the country if not the world are aware of. The E88 is a neo-nazi organization, the ABB is essentially an affiliation of members of Asian descent, while the Merchants are a fairly stereotypical drug-running gang involved in prostitution and armed robbery as well."
He stopped to see if Matt was following. He was, nodding to the other man to continue. Most of this was stuff he'd known for some time, although he'd never been to the place.
"OK. Now, recently, it has come to our attention that there is a fourth gang in the Bay, one that is quite possibly as large as the other three put together, is definitely far more dangerous, and is wildly better trained and equipped. How they've managed to stay under the radar for so long is currently unknown with certitude, but we believe it is mainly the work of this man." He handed the folder he'd been perusing over the desk, Matt taking it and opening it, studying the contents.
"Daniel Francisci Hebert, 44, on the books as the chief negotiator for the Dockworkers Union. Our information is that he actually runs the entire organization. The man who is technically in charge, Michael John O'Brian, 64, is hardly ever even in the city, and as far as we can tell is basically just a fall guy. He's been in Miami for six months, allegedly dealing with a sick mother, but we're working on confirming that."
"OK, so this Hebert character runs the place. I'm not clear on the problem."
"The problem, Agent Smith, is that there is chatter from a number of highly-placed sources that Mr Hebert is actually a top-level Mafia boss, running the entire operation as a front for some other, presumably nefarious, purpose. We've heard from people all up and down the coast, including some people in New York who are… let's say they're about as high up the food chain as it gets. Old families, old money, old power. And they all consider Mr Hebert there to be someone to look up to."
"He's successfully pulled the wool over the eyes of every law enforcement agency in the country," Agent Pond added with disgust. "His cover is, or at least was, immaculate. No data on him at all from any of the normal sources, right up to around the beginning of February this year. But we have reason to believe that he's been active for at least twenty years, probably quietly supported by some of the largest names in the business from Chicago down to Miami."
"His organization has received deliveries from known organized crime locations in New York, Philadelphia, New Jersey, and Syracuse. We don't know what the shipments were, who exactly sent them, or what was done with them."
"Maybe it was just an innocent series of coincidences?" Matt suggested, still skimming the folder. "I can't see anything here at all that would suggest that he's other than law-abiding."
Agent Pond snorted derisively. "That's the brilliance of the man at work. His record is clean. Not completely, he knows that would be suspicious, so there are a few minor black marks that we're certain were deliberately salted there. Same for his organization. Nothing anyone can point at and say was criminal, but for example every time there's been a cape fight in the last decade or more, his group somehow gets the work to repair the damage."
Matt nodded thoughtfully. That did sound like evidence of something odd going on.
"A background check on a number of the DWU workers has shown a worryingly large percentage are ex-military. Not all of them our military. At least six we've identified as having been suspected or convicted of serious crimes in the past. When they got out of jail, they somehow 'coincidentally' ended up working for Hebert. There are dozens of examples of this sort of circumstantial evidence if you dig deeply enough, but it's all on the surface innocent. Even the local LEOs are probably in on it, our information is that a number of police officers have regular contact with these 'dock workers.'
"It goes deeper too," Director Tennant carried on when the woman fell silent. "There is some evidence that the city government may be involved in some capacity. Mayor Roy Travis Christner, 46, is a known associate of Hebert's, and in fact was the driving force behind the recent urban renewal program that began with the public debut of the Parahuman known as 'Kaiju' in the middle of February. He has been spotted in the company of Mr Hebert on a number of occasions, and Mr Hebert has been to his house for dinner, accompanied by his daughter. What they talked about is unknown. Even getting this much information was exceptionally difficult. His people are unusually loyal."
Turning the large monitor on his desk around so Matt could see it, he tapped a key on his keyboard. "This was taken by one of the news crews during the build-up to the operations in the bay that day. What do you see?"
Matt watched the video play. "The target Daniel Hebert talking to several people. Director Piggot of the PRT ENE, I believe, is one of them."
"Correct. Keep watching."
He saw the man they were discussing move to another one, who was wearing a very expensive suit. Next to him was an older man with silvering hair, accompanied by two obvious security people. He recognized that one with surprise. "That's Massachusetts Governor Scott!"
"Yes. The one next to him is Mayor Christner. He is apparently well known by the governor."
Hebert chatted to the governor for a couple of minutes, Mayor Christner putting in a few words as well, then they moved on, ultimately ending up sitting at a table at the rear of what looked like a rooftop press area, in the company of a short, neat man and a strikingly beautiful woman. Matt admired the woman for a moment before his gaze focused on the man.
He stiffened in shock.
"Fuck me, that's…"
"Indeed it is."
"I didn't think he left Boston."
"He doesn't except very rarely, and only when it's very important. Look at how he's talking to both Hebert and Christner. Our intelligence people were amazed by this, the man actually looks almost relaxed. That can't be good."
"Why isn't this front page news?" he asked, stunned.
"Hardly anyone outside certain agencies knows what he actually looks like. The Rules, of course. Outing him without proof of some connection would be… politically very bad. The PRT would be extremely annoyed at best and we don't want to risk that unless we can be sure of coming out on top."
Killing the video, the man turned back to him. "We need someone on the inside. Someone who can pass as a physical laborer and actually do the work, but who knows what to look for, how to report it, and how to follow the evidence. Your record indicates you trained as a mechanic and can weld quite well, is this correct?"
"Yes, sir," Matt replied. "I do a lot of work on my car as a hobby. I don't know if I could fool a professional, though."
"They're hiring people right now, any reasonable experience is fine. I doubt you'd have trouble. You also look the part, you're the right age, strong, fit, and have a New Jersey accent. We'd like you to accept this assignment."
Matt considered the request, which was more of an order, and the whole situation. It sounded intriguing, if dangerous. An entirely stealth Mafia ring operating right out in the open? Their Boss being someone who hob-nobbed with the fucking Governor?! This was a career-making opportunity.
Still… best to be careful.
"I would like to know more about the operation before I could say yes, sir," he prevaricated. "And I'm curious about the involvement of the Treasury."
"Understandable." Director Tennant glanced at Agent Pond, who shrugged.
"All right. Are you aware of the Family?"
"I don't see how I couldn't be, sir. Giant lizards are the sort of thing that stick in your memory." He shivered a little. "I had trouble sleeping for days after that news report."
"I'm not surprised." The man looked mildly amused. "That's a common reaction. Well, they appear to be associated in some manner with the DWU. We're unclear on the relationship and have had trouble getting information out of the PRT, assuming they actually know any more than we do. But we do know that the Family has a company, Brockton Bay Family Operations, LLC, which has its headquarters on DWU land." Matt nodded thoughtfully, he'd vaguely heard about this, although he hadn't known where they were.
"There are currently five known Family members." The director prodded another key. An image came up on the monitor, the blue-scaled creature there smiling at the camera. "This is Saurial, the first one that turned up in early January. Age unknown. Height approximately six and a half feet. Weapons specialist, Tinker of some form, very high degree of skill in combat, smart, strong, and extremely fast. Also apparently an expert in applied psychological warfare. Has been single-handedly responsible for reducing the crime rate in Brockton Bay by nearly forty percent. Although, in light of the information we have, that might be better described as eliminating the competition."
The next image came up. "Raptaur. Second one to arrive. Saurial's sister. Age unknown. Height approximately eight and a half feet. Bipedal or quadrupedal depending on circumstances. Heavy weapons expert, again extremely combat-experienced. Probably a Tinker as well, prefers head on attack. Like her sister, she is smart, agile despite an estimated weight of nearly a ton, much faster than she should be, and high Brute level strength."
Another tap of a key produced a more familiar image. This one he knew. "Kaiju. The third one, again apparently a sister. Age unknown. Height approximately eighty-five to ninety feet, weight estimated at over five hundred tons. Largest Parahuman on the planet by a large margin, quite possibly the strongest as well. Combat abilities unknown, but based on her sheer size, she could simply stand on anyone she was fighting. She's been seen to take a shot from Eidolon to the back of the head and barely notice. Also has Tinker skills, very well-spoken, and smart."
Matt listened and watched with a sense of slightly numb shock. He hadn't realized quite how dangerous those reptilian things were.
His superior changed the image again. "Ianthe. The fourth one. Age unknown. Height approximately seven and a half feet. Apparently a cousin of Saurial's. Healer, weapons skill unknown but assumed to be similar to the others. Also known to have some form of built in projectile weaponry. Like her cousins, smart and strong."
The last image appeared, showing a very similar lizard, only with different color scales. "Metis. Age unknown. Height approximately seven and a half feet." Matt studied the amazingly black creature that was shown talking to a normal person. "We believe she is some form of Thinker, as well as a Healer in the same way as Ianthe. Extremely intelligent, perceptive, combat experienced. Weapons skill unknown but assumed to be similar to the others. Has the built in weapons of Ianthe and an ability to generate a significant electrical charge through her hands."
The man stopped the briefing. "You should also bear in mind they all have claws sharp enough to shred body armor, and don't actually need weapons to kill a normal human. Or even most capes. These people are extremely dangerous."
Matt swallowed a little. "And work for Hebert?"
"We're not entirely certain. They are definitely associated with the DWU, though, they're even members of the union and pay all their dues, get the same insurance benefits, and from what we hear are considered part of the group. Generally, after an initial shock, people seem to get on well with them. At least in Brockton, which is an unusual place at the best of times."
Director Tennant looked at Agent Pond, who nodded. Taking up the story, she began, "We are interested in the group due to the oddities surrounding their financing. Vast amounts of materials have been used in construction over the last few weeks, but we can find no record of how they were paid for, or even where they came from. We suspect that there is an underground money-laundering and smuggling system of a complexity and subtlety never before encountered at work, which is worrying on a number of levels. So far we have failed to get any details on what's going on, or get any of our people into a position to check. We decided to combine forces."
"There is some evidence of weapons trafficking," the director interjected. "That's enough to get us involved. We also know that six warehouses were demolished in one day some while ago, which would require a large amount of explosives, but we have no permit on record for explosive-handling for anyone at the DWU. Another reason to investigate."
"I understand," Matt nodded. "Do we have any reason to believe that the Mayor is directly involved?"
"We have no proof that he is. There is plenty of reason to believe it. The association with Mr Hebert is too strong to be anything other. It's not impossible, unfortunately, that it might even go as high as the Governor. Such things have happened in the past. We have to assume that Hebert may well have managed to compromise the entire local police force and city government. He's had twenty years to work on this."
"Christ." Matt shook his head in wonder. "The man must be brilliant."
"And ambitious, and careful. We're not sure of the connection to the old families, but I personally am sure there is one. His wife may have been involved as well. She died some years ago in a car accident, allegedly. There are… inconsistencies."
"He had her killed?"
"More likely someone else did. We think they paid the price. There's no record of anything, which is suspicious under the circumstances."
"Any other family?"
"Only the daughter, Taylor Anne Hebert, 15. School records indicate she's a math prodigy, very calm, obviously well trained. Undoubtedly being groomed to take over the family business. She is also a friend of several members of New Wave. She is particularly close with Panacea, or Amy Dallon, from our information. Additionally she's been seen in the company of a number of young people whose parents are influential in the city. Lawyers, financial people, and of course she knows the Mayor, who apparently thinks highly of her."
"Any chance we could use her to get information on her father?"
"That would be unwise," Agent Pond replied. "It is a matter of record that she is close friends with the Family, and they have publicly stated that they would take a dim view of any threats or harm befalling their friends. We can't risk it. We're working on getting an undercover agent of the right apparent age into her high school but so far haven't found the right person."
"I see." Matt looked at the folder in his hands once more, then closed it and handed it back. "I'm in. What am I supposed to be doing?"
"You will proceed to Brockton Bay, apply for, and hopefully get, a job in the DWU, and watch. For the moment, just that. We need to collect as much background information as possible on their internal activities before we can design a plan of attack. We need to take the entire organization down in one hit, or in all probability we'll lose Hebert and the top people for good. They're too well connected to take chances with."
He nodded as the woman stopped. "I understand."
"Understand this as well, Smith," the Director remarked, leaning forward. "This is a dangerous assignment. Possible the most dangerous one you've ever had. We have no way to know what they would do if they even suspect you aren't what you appear to be. A cover story has been generated for you, along with all the documentation we can arrange, which should be good enough to fool practically anyone, even the damn CIA wouldn't see through it. But… this guy is good. And he's working with the Family, so god knows what they could bring to bear. We suspect there are most likely other Parahumans in the gang as well, although there is no proof of that."
The man pushed another folder across the desk to him from a stack of them at his right elbow. "Basically, don't trust anyone, don't give anything away, and be careful! Your life depends on it. This has the documents you'll need to establish your cover, tickets on a series of flights that will take you to New York via a number of cutout locations, and the train tickets to Brockton Bay itself. There's a burner phone in there as well. When you arrive, contact us to let us know, then dump the phone and get a different one. We'll be monitoring you. Contact will be made through the normal undercover protocols at some point in the near future."
"Once we've collected enough information, we'll let you know the next stage in the plan," Agent Pond added. "But for the immediate future, you're just a New Jersey boy who's looking for a job. Stay alert. Don't underestimate anyone."
"I understand, sir. And ma'am."
"Good luck, Smith."
"Thank you, sir."
Matt picked up the folder, then stood, nodded respectfully to both people, and left the room, his mind burning with curiosity and apprehension.
What would he find on this assignment?
There was no way to tell at the moment, but whatever happened, if he survived it, his career was assured, he felt certain.
Behind him, in the office he'd just left, the man and woman looked at each other. "You believe he can do it, Director Tennant?" the cold voice asked.
"He's one of the best I have, and the only one who matches the requirements you have," the man replied. "I have confidence in Smith."
"I hope you're right. There could be a lot at stake here." Agent Pond shook her head in disgust. "Although you'd never know it, considering how much trouble I had getting authorization for this operation. A number of people in government are far too accepting of the Family and the entire Brockton Bay situation. It makes me wonder..."
Director Tennant stared at her. "You don't think…?"
"Who knows?" she sighed. "That man is good."
"Christ."
"Welcome to my world," she muttered, putting her papers away into her briefcase, then closing it and standing up. "I'll be in contact."
"Until later, Agent," he said absently, mulling over the nasty train of thought her words had started. The door closing behind her didn't disturb his concentration.
"Ma'am? You asked me to see you?"
"Yes, come in, Lieutenant, and close the door." Russell did as requested, sitting in the chair the elderly woman behind the desk waved him to. She was perusing a folder on the desk. Looking up after ten seconds or so, she inspected him. "The Office of Naval Intelligence has another interesting assignment for you, Gatiss," she began. "A dangerous one, undercover, but also an important one." She leaned forward a little as he listened with interest. "Have you ever been to Brockton Bay?"