The next day Reinhardt calls Andreas just before lunch. Brigitte is currently out; she left earlier that morning for Frankfurt, where the Ironclad Guild has a satellite office. Her order of tecra-magnesium has been delivered there, and she wants to retrieve it as soon as possible.
As he looks down at his holopad, he wonders briefly if he should even even be calling. Brigitte may be right; a mission so close to the time he will be returning to active duty could delay them. Before he has a chance to hang up, the call goes through.
" Hallo? " A man's voice answers, loud and gravelly. No image comes up on Reinhardt's holopad; either the man has a damaged pad, or this number goes through to a cellphone. No matter.
"Is this Andreas Mayer?"
The man answers warily. "Yes, who's calling?"
Reinhardt introduces himself, references the letter that had been left with Ella and the request within. Once the farmer hears who's calling, his cautious tone seems to fade. It's not too unusual to be suspicious of strange numbers, so Reinhardt allows the man his paranoia. He asks if Andreas can give him more details about the thefts on his property.
"Well, 'bout two weeks ago I started noticing equipment goin' missing." The man launches into his tale with gusto. "I keep most of it in the field a ways behind my house, y'see. Not sure how long they've been takin' stuff, I don't go back there a lot when it's not growin' season. But I went out there and saw an item or two missin'. Then, the next time I checked more was gone. I tried to stay up late one night, see if I could catch the fella that was doin' it. Only thing is, seems like it's more'n one person!"
More than one thief, eh? This gentleman must have some very valuable property to gain the interest of a bandit gang.
"I couldn't see much. Saw the shapes of people movin' around, and this red light kept flashing on and off but that was it. When I checked in the morning, more stuff was stolen." Andreas continues, his voice taking on the droning tone of a man who continues to talk for awhile. "So, I knew right away I had to do somethin'. I can't handle no group of thieves. I went into town, askin' around seein' if anyone knew anything about you. I'd heard the tales; you, goin' around the countryside helpin' people out. So I-"
"Why have you not called the police?" Reinhardt interrupts, troubled. This seems like the most obvious course of action.
"Oh, uh, well," Andreas's voice shifts, his tone wary again. "Some of that stuff they're stealin' is...well, lets just say I don't think the police would react very kindly if they knew I had it."
There it is. Brigitte had been right to question the man's motives after all. He isn't so sure about how he feels about assisting someone with what may be an illegal operation.
"Sir," He says, sternly. "I am a knight, and as such I abide by a code of honor. I am duty-bound to uphold the law, and I cannot accept any tasks that would force me to break that code. I do not think-"
"Wait!" Andreas interrupts, panicked. "No! What I got, it ain't illegal! It's just...it's like-" he is struggling for the words. "It's like-how people would feel if I had copies of Mein Kampf all over my house. Which I don't. It just...people feel weird about this kind o' thing."
It is hard to verify the veracity of such statements over the phone, but Reinhardt thinks his voice has a ring of truth to it. He is half-tempted to ask what manner of "thing" is, but he doubts the man will want to admit it. Andreas has something-not illegal-but something he thinks the police may be unwilling to help him recover. It is possible, yes.
Brigitte is not here for him to discuss the matter with now. He must make this decision alone.
"If I come," Reinhardt says, "I reserve the right to refuse your request, even after I've arrived." There. That gives them some leeway to change their minds, as he is sure Brigitte will be happy about.
"Yes, of course!" Andreas sounds like he is relieved to not be rejected completely. He provides his address to Reinhardt, who takes it down. They arrange for him to arrive the following day, as Andreas is eager to preserve what remains of his items. As Reinhardt ends the call he scrubs a hand over his face, thinking.
They've travelled far and wide, helping others and righting wrongs wherever they found them. This excursion will perhaps be a little more morally ambiguous than any of the others, but now that he has given his word he is duty-bound to at least investigate it. It's possible that Brigitte will reject it on principle, and he will surely listen to what she has to say on the matter but he may have to convince her to at least go .
Well, it does him no good to worry too much about it until she gets back. He gets up from the table and heads to his workshop. He must prepare for the trip.
When Brigitte arrives home it is nearing 3 o'clock. He can hear her footsteps coming down the stairs, sees her nudge open the door to her workshop wider to accommodate the large box she carries. He abandons the van where he has just finished settling his armor and goes to her.
She looks up as he enters, sliding the blade of a boxcutter into the tape that holds the box closed. "So, what do you think? Going to take the request?"
He tells her everything Andreas said, as well as his own thoughts on the matter. When he is done, she is leaning against her workbench, brow knitted.
"I don't know about this, Reinhardt. How do you know he's not lying about his 'probably not illegal' stuff? It could just be a trick to get you out there." She chews her lip, absentmindedly flicking the tip of the boxcutter in and out.
"That could be so Schildlein, but I have told him I will refuse if I find any hint of deception." And he will do it, too. He will not be taken advantage of.
"Wellll…." She hems and haws, still uncertain. After some deliberation, she finally agrees. "Okay, since you gave us an out." She points the retracted boxcutter at him. "But we better get back in the next two days, no week-long stakeouts! I want to have time to finish working on my new shield before you return to active duty."
Reinhardt swears on his honor that they will stay two nights at the most. "If the thieves have not returned by then, I will refer him to you. Perhaps he would be interested in a defensive perimeter." He teases.
She blows a raspberry at him, waving him away and he retreats back to his workshop with a laugh.
Reinhardt spends the rest of the evening arranging his his equipment neatly into their van, and assisting Brigitte when she does the same with hers. She runs some last-minute checks on the particle generators in their shields, as well as topping off the fuel in his rocket hammer. He packs some snacks for the road and several changes of clothes. Their sparring session is postponed until they return, and instead they run a quick inspection on the van. It wasn't that long ago that they were on the road, so there isn't much to be done except ensure that the reactor is still running. Brigitte tests it by taking the van out for a five-minute drive to the main road and back; it runs as smoothly as ever.
That evening they stay in for their meal. Reinhardt picks a classic movie to watch: The Avengers . They sit through it in near silence; each deep in thought about the task tomorrow. When the film is over, they exchange goodnights and make their way to bed.
When his head is situated comfortably on his pillow, Reinhardt finds that he cannot sleep. His mind races, full of memories that the prospect of this mission has dredged up. Long days and nights on the road, traveling in search of wrongs to right. The road rolling beneath them like a long black treadmill. The ache of his wounds, soothed by a gentle hand. The crash of his hammer, shattering the landscape. The clang of a metal on metal. A woman's laugh, rich and carefree. The shell of a once-great man, overgrown with moss.
Our legacies are our deeds , a corpse whispers.
He falls into uneasy sleep.