One More Trigger

Part Thirty-Two: Who to Turn to

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Boardwalk
Saturday, April 30, 2011
06:13 AM Eastern Daylight Time

Parian

Sabah hummed to herself as she rode the oversized gorilla down the street, the six-legged horse clomping along behind her with the equipment packed into the saddlebags. She paused to watch for traffic, then had the gorilla knuckle its way across the street to the Boardwalk proper with the horse following behind. People turned and pointed; some waved and she waved back, knowing they couldn't see her smile behind the doll-face mask.

The gorilla put her down at the spot on the Boardwalk she reserved every Saturday for her stall and she began to set it up, assisted by the gorilla when it came to the heavy lifting. She'd once been told by a satisfied customer that she should be selling her wares from an actual brick-and-mortar shop, but she knew such an endeavour would involve far more cash through-flow than she was making right then. More to the point, she just wasn't ready for the debts she knew such a venue would entail before she ever started making a profit.

And then, of course, there were the NEPEA provisions. While she confined her business to a weekend stall performing puppet shows and selling dolls, along with the occasional advertising gig, nobody important paid any attention. Once she graduated from her fashion design course, if she then attempted to sell clothing via a daily business with the majority of employees and shareholders—embodied in herself—being parahuman, someone might choose to take notice.

She knew NEPEA-5 was a measure for safeguarding the economy; specifically, so that uniquely talented parahumans didn't force mundane skilled workers out of the market by undercutting prices then suddenly quit to leave a gaping hole where a service had previously been provided. I'm sure Brockton Bay would survive with one fewer bespoke clothier. But whether they were justified or not, the levies involved would make it impossible for her to stay afloat on her own. Until the name of Parian became truly well-known in the clothing world, her best bet would be to let herself be hired on by a mundane firm and make her mark that way.

Still, that day was far in the future, and so for the moment she was satisfied with her little stall.

As she finished constructing the stall itself and hung the pre-made dolls across the top, she glanced around. Lily knew she was down here every Saturday morning, and usually managed to get herself onto the weekend Boardwalk patrol rosters so they could at least say hi to each other. As a strictly neutral rogue cape, Sabah did her best to keep out of the hero/villain dichotomy, but all the same she knew it was a bad idea to advertise the fact she was dating a Ward. Some capes respected that sort of thing and knew not to step over the line, while others … didn't.

Not having caught sight of a purple costume with white metal highlights, she positioned the horse and gorilla on either side of the stall, then sat on the folding chair behind the small folding table. While her fine control with her animated creations wasn't enough for the gorilla to attempt juggling or anything similarly complex, it could count on its fingers or play patty-cake with itself. On the other side of her, the horse performed a passable attempt at a soft-shoe shuffle, adapted for six legs.

Time passed. She sat, hands folded, while the needle and thread danced through the frilly cloth, and her latest doll took form in front of her. A couple stopped by, watched for a few minutes, then wandered onward. Someone bought a doll for their kid, who hugged it to herself and ran off. Sabah put the money in her cash-box, gave change, and continued to work on the doll in front of her.

A couple of hours later, she began to consider the idea of shutting the stall down for fifteen minutes so she could go and buy a kebab from a stall just down the way; the wind was wafting the scent in her direction, and it was making her stomach rumble. She'd sold a few more dolls in the interim, but it seemed the initial rush was gone, and there wasn't anyone near the stall at the moment.

Just as she began to stand up, a man wearing the red and green of the ABB more or less came out of nowhere and planted himself in front of her ad hoc work desk. "You!" he shouted. "You will pay protection to Oni Lee!"

"I … what?" This made no sense. Where she was on the Boardwalk, she was nowhere near the new boundaries of the ABB, where they'd shrunk to since Lung had been captured. Besides, she didn't even identify as Asian in the same way that the ABB did. Basra was in the Middle East, not the Far East. While the rumour was that the ABB did demand 'protection' money, it was from their own businesses in their own area.

And then Oni Lee himself appeared before her stall. Menacing fanged mask, black bodysuit, all of it. "You will pay protection to the ABB." Sabah could hear the menace in the accented voice. "Here is a taste of what could happen if you do not." In his hand was a black metal cylinder. He tossed it into the stall alongside her, a metal lever flying off it.

That's a grenade. He just threw a grenade at me.

People were shouting, but she wasn't listening. She made the gorilla pick her up out of the stall and toss her away from it; the horse had cantered around to cushion her fall. After that, the ape grabbed the stall and collapsed it over the grenade, then threw itself on top to hold everything down.

The explosion, when it came, wasn't as intense as she'd expected. It destroyed the stall and table, and badly damaged the ape, but there wasn't any kind of flying shrapnel, which she'd been most scared of. Even the ringing in her ears wasn't as bad as it might have been. Panting, she stared through the eyeholes of her mask at the wisp of smoke curling up from the wreckage of nearly everything she'd brought to the Boardwalk. It wouldn't wipe her savings out to replace it all, but those dolls represented hours of work.

"Hey, are you okay?" Willing hands helped her to her feet. She looked into the concerned faces of a young couple. "I can't believe they just did that!"

"But …" she was still bewildered, the reality of her brush with death yet to sink in. "Why?"

"I have no idea, honey," said the woman, guiding her to a nearby bench. "Just sit down here before you fall down again. Have you done something to upset him, like sell stupid-looking Lung dolls or anything like that?"

"First time I ever saw him in real life," the man said apropos of nothing, as Sabah was still searching for words. "Tossed the grenade, then went over there and foomp, he was a pile of ash."

Staring around, Sabah caught sight of the pile of white ash he was talking about, even now being blown about by the wind. "I … I haven't done anything. I don't even go near that part of town." She'd never felt so helpless in her life.

The guy shrugged. "Well, from everything I ever heard, he was always a loose cannon, even before Lung took over the ABB. Maybe he's getting desperate. Or it could be he sees you as a threat."

"What's going on here?" Sabah almost gasped with relief as she saw Flechette with Kid Win. It was the latter's voice she'd heard. "We got a report that Oni Lee attacked someone."

"Yeah," said the guy. "Me and my girlfriend here saw him show up just over there. An ABB mook went up to Parian here and yelled at her to give them protection money. When she didn't, Oni Lee threw a grenade into the stall, then ducked around there and teleported away."

"Is that what happened, Parian?" asked Kid Win soothingly, keeping his voice calm and even.

"Y-yes," she said shakily. "I-I don't know why he did it. It-it just came out of the blue."

"What happened to the ABB minion?" Flechette asked the guy, her voice hard and no-nonsense. "Can you give me any sort of description? Tattoos or other identifying marks?"

"Not really." The guy shook his head. "I was looking at Oni Lee. You don't believe they can actually teleport until you see them do it, y'know?"

The girl raised her hand slightly. "I think the minion got into a white van with some others, just over there, and drove off." She pointed at an empty parking space.

"Thanks." Flechette handed the guy a Wards contact card. "If you think of anything else, call this number."

"We'll definitely do that." He took the card and turned to Sabah. "You take care now, okay?"

"Th-thanks. I will." She watched them go, then looked back at her ruined equipment. "I don't understand. I don't understand any of this."

Kid Win glanced at her, then at Lily. Sabah was pretty sure he knew about the relationship between them but from what Lily said, nobody talked about it. "I'll, uh, I'll go get a sample of that ash. See if we can analyse anything different out of it this time."

"Yeah, you do that." Unslinging her arbalest from her back and resting it on the ground, Lily sat down alongside Sabah. Under her visor, her face was drawn and pale; almost as pale, Sabah imagined, as her own must be right now. They didn't quite dare hold hands in public, but her glove was nudged up against Sabah's. Turning to face her, Lily lowered her voice. "Are you okay?"

"N-not really," Sabah admitted. "I'm not hurt, if that's what you mean, but …" She gestured at the ash that Kid Win was investigating, and the deflated gorilla. "I'm scared. Nobody ever came after me like this before." She could feel her nose beginning to run, and desperately wanted to wipe it.

"We'll find him." Lily's voice was low and intense. "We'll drag that murderous sonovabitch in by his stupid fucking mask and bury him in the deepest, darkest cell we have."

Sabah sniffled. "I know you'll want to, but let's be realistic here. I'm just a rogue cape. The Protectorate hasn't hunted him down in the three months since Lung was captured, so why would they pull out the stops now? And no, I don't want you getting hurt taking him on alone."

Flechette

Her words struck hard to Lily's core. Sabah was right; the Protectorate was always slow to rally around any non-affiliated cape. And this, right here, was a perfect excuse for Piggot to slow-walk any investigation until she had Sabah's signature on the dotted line. And she'd know about it immediately, too; even now, Chris was reporting the situation over their radio link. Her own mic was turned off, for obvious reasons.

For one ugly moment, she wondered if the Director might have engineered this encounter somehow. But no; reluctantly, she had to come to the conclusion that while Piggot would absolutely ride this opportunity into the ground, she wouldn't actually go so far as to instigate it in the first place. Among other things, Emily Piggot probably had the word 'deniability' tattooed on the insides of her eyelids.

Which unfortunately left Lily even farther behind the eight-ball than before. Even if I bite the bullet and call Piggot's bluff, if I go down to Miami, I won't be able to protect her from Oni Lee.

All she had to do was say three words. Join the Protectorate. Sabah wouldn't be happy, but she'd be safe.

But the words wouldn't come. Lily sat, watching Chris gathering his sample, trying to figure out what she should say. If I say that, I can't unsay it. If Sabah says yes to Piggot, they'll never take their hooks out of her.

"… I'll think of something," she said in the end. "But hey, do me a favour?"

Sabah wriggled a piece of cloth up inside her mask; a moment later, Lily heard her blowing her nose. "What?"

Lily considered her options. "Leave the costume in the closet for a little bit. Give me a chance to get a line on what's happening." Even if I have to go to ABB territory and have a close and personal word with half the bangers on the street.

"Okay, I can do that." Sabah turned to her, and Lily could see her eyes wide and wet with tears inside the porcelain mask. "Be careful. Stay safe. Please."

"Always." Chris was finished with his sample-gathering, so Lily stood up. She used the movement to conceal a quick grab-and-squeeze of Sabah's hand. "See you tonight?"

Sabah's fingers trailed off Lily's hands, setting fire to her nerve endings. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Always."

Taking up the arbalest and slinging it over her back again, Lily used the moment to compose herself. Sabah was the sweetest and most gentle girl in Brockton Bay, and she desperately wanted to set out in pursuit of the cocksuckers who'd done this, but she couldn't. Curling her hand slightly to recall the touch of her girlfriend's hand, she strode over to where Chris was putting his collection gear away. "So, get anything?"

Chris shrugged noncommittally. "White ash, same as every other time Oni Lee does his thing. Lab'll tell us if there's anything different this time. How is she?"

"Shaken up as fuck." Lily growled under her breath. "What the hell is Oni Lee up to? It's not like she even makes much money doing this."

The power-armoured Ward nodded. "I don't understand it either, but then again, I'm not a serial suicide bomber. One thing I can tell you, though. He didn't intend to kill her."

Lily tilted her head to one side to complement the raising of her eyebrows. Everyone who wore a face-covering mask learned to over-express their emotions or risk being described as 'robotic'. "That's good to know, but how do you figure?"

He gestured toward the crumpled remains of the stall and the shredded gorilla on top. "After the Cornell bombings, Armsmaster had me do an explosive force recognition course. A high-explosive grenade would've sent all that flying, and a shrapnel grenade would've probably wounded or killed her, as well as half the bystanders. What he threw at her was just a flashbang. Her precautions basically saved everyone around from being hurt or even seriously traumatised, and minimised what little shrapnel would've been flying around. But yeah, at most she would've been temporarily blinded and deafened and maybe wounded by bits of casing. The chance of serious permanent injury or death was actually pretty low."

She wanted to punch him for his matter-of-fact tone. This was her girlfriend he was talking about. The woman she loved. Not just some casual person on the street. But while Chris wasn't exactly in Armsmaster's league for being Captain Oblivious, he wasn't a people person at the best of times. She guessed he was trying to make her feel better in his own way.

"Okay, thanks." She inhaled air through her nostrils as she saw the flashing lights approach. Police, fire and ambulance. No PRT vans, as yet. "Time to let 'em know we got exactly nothing."

He nodded. "Yes, but the public likes to see us responding to something like this. It raises confidence in the PRT and Protectorate."

"What can the cops even do for her?" Her frustration, already rising, hit new levels.

This time, he shrugged. "Take her statement and pass it on to the PRT, I guess."

She gritted her teeth and muttered in a sing-song tone. "So sorry, not our jurisdiction."

The look he gave her held sympathy mixed with helplessness. "I wish I could say they'd be able to do something. The PRT will, though."

"The PRT will take her statement and ask what she did to provoke him, then do nothing because she's a rogue cape." She shook her head. "And she'll be left out in the cold, because they don't give a damn."

"The PRT cares," he said reflexively. She gave him a look of extreme disbelief, and he raised his hands defensively. "They do. This is one more charge they can put against Oni Lee."

"Who they're not going to do anything about bringing in." Her voice was flat.

As the emergency vehicles pulled to a halt, he didn't contradict her.

Director's Office
One Hour Later
Director Piggot

"Well, what do you expect me to do?" Emily spread her hands. "You swept the area afterward. He'd clearly left, along with his minions. By your own words, once he was gone, he was gone."

Flechette clenched her hands, but she managed to keep her voice under control. "We could go into ABB territory and pin him down. Drag him out by the hair. Make the whole city a lot safer." She took a deep breath. "I'll take unpaid overtime to go along."

Emily carefully schooled her expression—Regret #4: I understand your problem and I sympathise but there's nothing I can do—before she replied. "I know you would, and I applaud your dedication to your job. However, there are factors that need to be addressed first. One: we have many other irons in the fire at the moment, and the number of troopers required to support such an action just aren't available right now. Two: things are quiet in ABB territory. We don't want to be riling them up needlessly ahead of Lung's transfer. Three: if the Empire Eighty-Eight gets the idea that we're rounding up the gangs, especially after Team Samaritan brought the Merchants in, they might start throwing their weight around. And they have more throw weight than we do. If things came to a head between us and the Empire, there would be a lot of casualties, many on our side, and many more in the civilian population." She placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward. "I spend a lot of time maintaining the peace in this city so that specific thing does not happen."

"So you're going to do nothing," Flechette said bitterly. "And all because Parian's not a hero. Or is it because she's not in the Protectorate?"

"I would be careful with what you are insinuating," Emily said, moderating her tone so it didn't sound as though she were dressing down the importunate Ward; even though that was precisely what she was doing. "The PRT does not play favourites. However, we do have priorities that we need to meet, and—"

"What's the difference between 'playing favourites' and 'low priority'?" interrupted Flechette, her jaw set and tone still bitter. "Because they sound exactly the same to me."

Emily had anticipated this question. "Playing favourites focuses on the cape, to the exclusion of all else. Exercising priorities focuses on the wider picture. I am the regional Director, and so my higher priorities involve ensuring the success of everything I'm trying to achieve with the PRT, Protectorate and Wards in this city, and the safety of the people under my command. They do not entail going out of my way to protect a rogue cape from the consequences of her own actions, whoever that cape may be."

"Her own actions?" Flechette shook her head. "She didn't do anything."

That rated a slight eyebrow-raise. "She must have offended Oni Lee somehow, for him to come all the way down to the Boardwalk and toss a flashbang into her stall." She shrugged. "If Parian were to come in to speak to me herself, perhaps we could come to some sort of equitable arrangement."

Flechette's fists clenched, and she glared at Emily. Her jaw worked, as though she wanted to say things, but was holding them back by pure force of will. Emily approved of that sort of self-discipline. She considered Flechette to be one of the better Wards, neither absent-minded like Kid Win, a loose cannon like (the thankfully long out of her hair) Shadow Stalker or a not-as-funny-as-he-thought-he-was jokester such as Clockblocker.

Merely thinking the name made her shudder.

But even the 'good' Wards needed discipline and direction, and while Renick handled most of the day-to-day interactions with them, she was not above providing some of her own when and if needed. Such as right now.

Turning on her heel, Flechette stormed out of Emily's office, apparently attempting to slam it but foiled by the (Armsmaster upgraded) closing mechanism. Fortunately for the Ward's sake, it remained intact; Emily was not above docking her pay to repair anything she broke in her little fit of pique.

Leaning back in her chair, Emily allowed herself a modicum of satisfaction at the way the discussion had gone. Flechette had to learn that for every 'give' there was a corresponding 'take'; as a Ward, low down on the totem pole as she was, she would suffer the short end of both giving and taking. It was just the way of the world.

She had to admire the fortuity of the incident on the Boardwalk that morning, even as she condemned Oni Lee himself for his reckless and dangerous actions. Enough PRT troopers had been injured by his actions over the years that she would cheerfully see him installed in a cell for the foreseeable future … but not, perhaps, before he stampeded Parian into the arms of the Protectorate. Besides, what she'd told Flechette was essentially true. The PRT did have many irons in the fire, and there were priorities they had to meet.

Yes, Emily Piggot was the one who designated which irons they had in the fire, and what priorities were most important at the time. She didn't want to see Parian hurt, but when it came to the bigger picture, she was dedicated to the welfare of the PRT (and of course, the Protectorate and Wards) above all else; first, last and always.

And that was the way of the world.

The Hebert Household
09:45 That Morning
Ladybug

Taylor lounged on the couch, giving just a little bit of attention to the TV while checking out what was going on around Brockton Bay with her bugs. Missy and Mr. Barnes had come over earlier and were in the kitchen going over the Wards contract (Taylor had taken one look at it and gone ew, no thanks) trying to work out if there was some kind of loophole to let Flechette wriggle out of it. Lisa, despite having spent the last couple of nights babysitting Riley, was leaning over the table, showing every evidence of interest in the process.

Danny had taken Riley herself out to the Hillside Mall with Amy in attendance, to outfit the girl with actual clothing (and to attempt a little mending of the fences in the process). So far, from the bugs she had on all three, it seemed to be going okay. Nobody had tried to kill anyone else, so that was a good step in the right direction, and Riley appeared to be enjoying the new shoes she was wearing.

"Okay," said Mr. Barnes. "So this clause here regarding an 'unsafe work environment'. There's no definition on the contract. What does that translate out to in PRT regulations?"

"I got this one," Lisa said; Taylor could hear the smug in her voice. "If you can prove those in leadership above you are not acting in your best interest, or directly lying to you in a matter of importance, or otherwise not acting in good faith toward you, then you can petition to be released from your contract. But you've got to have ironclad proof, preferably with witness verification."

From the movement of Missy's head, she nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, good. The question is, how do we prove something like that? I don't actually much like the Director, but I have to respect the way she nails everything down. Very little gets past her."

"You've got about one chance, here." Lisa's smug factor ratcheted up a notch or two. "Did you know that Piggot's desk has a built-in recording system? All PRT Directors do. Among other things, they've got to be recording any time the Director is alone in their office with a Ward. Basically, it's a safety net for both sides. Also, any Ward can request for any recording they were present for to be played back at any time. Denying the request without a really solid reason? Unsafe work environment."

"I can see that," mused Alan Barnes. "But she also knows this. As Missy says, she's very proficient at what she does, and I doubt very much that she would deliberately lie on tape in a way she can be caught out."

"Unless she can wipe the tape later on," Missy suggested.

The bugs on Lisa's hair registered a side-to-side motion; she was shaking her head. "Nope. First off, the Director doesn't have access to the delete button for her own recordings, because that would kind of negate the purpose of having the recordings in the first place. Second, regulations require them to keep the recordings for at least six months. If you requested a recording for a meeting that you know you had in the last six months and it came up blank, it triggers an investigation into that Director's actions."

"Since when do you have access to PRT regulations?" asked Mr. Barnes curiously.

Taylor could hear Lisa's smirk growing by the second. "I'm just that—"

Missy's phone rang. Quickly tugging it out of her pants pocket, she answered it. "Oh, hi, Flechette. How are—wait, wait. Slow down. What's happened?"

The tone of Missy's voice grabbed Taylor's attention. Coming to her feet, she headed into the kitchen, pulling out her own phone. If the rest of the team were needed, she had them on speed-dial. Also, she had bugs on them.

"One second. I'm putting you on speaker. Alpha, our legal expert, is right here." Missy took her phone away from her ear and hit the icon that let everyone hear what was going on. "Okay, start from the top." Taylor noted that Lisa had her phone out by this time. She laid it down beside Missy's, a recording app running.

The sound quality wasn't great—wind kept cutting across wherever Flechette was making the call from—but it was audible enough. "It's Parian," Flechette said. "This morning she was selling dolls down on the Boardwalk and Oni Lee attacked her. Demanded protection money, then threw a grenade into her stall and teleported away. And Piggot isn't doing anything. She keeps talking about priorities and keeping the peace, but—"

"Wait, wait," Lisa said. "Sorry, this is Athena. You're saying Oni Lee attacked her? Threw a grenade? Is she okay?"

Flechette stifled a sniffle. "Yes, it was just a flashbang, but her stall was ruined, and she lost the day's work. But Piggot doesn't care unless it's a Ward or a member of the Protectorate that's in danger. She's not saying it directly, but—"

"But she's saying it loud and clear all the same," Alan Barnes said understandingly. "This is Alpha. Has she said straight out that if Parian joins the Wards or Protectorate, the PRT would be able to protect her then?"

"No." Flechette sniffled again. "All she's said is that the PRT has priorities, but if Parian came in and spoke to her face to face, they should be able to work out an equitable arrangement." She spoke the last two words with disgust.

"Translation: if you join us, we can protect you. Got it. Hmm." Alan Barnes frowned and rubbed his lips with the side of his index finger.

Missy looked troubled. "You don't think …"

"It's a put-up job?" Lisa shook her head. "No. Piggot is self-serving as fuck, but she does things by the book … mostly. Take advantage of something like this? In a hot Brockton Bay second. Risk getting caught setting it up herself? Not a hope in hell."

"But what do I do?" asked Flechette.

Taylor felt the determination settle into her features as she stepped forward and leaned over the phone. "Hi, Flechette. Ladybug, here. In all good conscience, there's only one thing we can do."

"And what's that?"

Alan Barnes and Missy looked at her with the same question on their faces, while Lisa's expression curved into a savage grin. She knew.

Emma was the nominal leader of Team Samaritan, but Taylor knew her as well as she knew herself. This was something Emma wouldn't step back from, either. Putting her phone down, she rested her knuckles on the table.

"We're going to bring Oni Lee in and ask him exactly what the fuck he thinks he's doing."

Half an Hour Later
Sparx

"We're going to bring Oni Lee in and ask him exactly what the fuck he thinks he's doing."

Emma tapped the icon to end the playback and handed Lisa's phone back over to her. "Thanks. Okay, now we're up to speed." She looked over at Madison and Vicky. "So, either of you have a problem with going after a sadistic teleporting serial suicide bomber?"

Madison shook her head. "Nope. In fact, it's long past time we did something about him."

"What she said," Vicky added. "Ames, from the way you're having a fit of hysterics in the corner, I guess you're okay with it, too?"

Amy, who was in fact sitting sedately on the couch between Lisa and Riley, stuck out her tongue at her sister. "There's nothing 'okay' about dealing with Oni Lee, but Madison's on the mark. He was left alone after Lung went down for far too long, just because he's 'only' Oni Lee. It's about time we corrected that oversight."

Emma grimaced. "It's partly my fault. I kept thinking the PRT would finally get off their backsides and bring him in, but I guess status quo is king after all. So, Tails?"

"Wait, wait." Riley waved her hands for attention. "So that's it? You're just going to bring in Oni Lee?"

Danny nodded. "Pretty much."

"When the girls get it in their heads to do something," Rod Clements added from where he was leaning back in an armchair, "they generally get it done."

"And you're doing now instead of, say, next month, because of … your friend?" Riley appeared to be having trouble with this concept.

"Teammate, but close enough," Missy agreed. "Also, we hate bullying. Ladybug?"

"He's showing the flag," Taylor reported. "Walking down the street. Just taking his time."

"Good." Alan Barnes nodded toward the kitchen. "We'll put down a map shortly, but for now let's do a refresh on his abilities and resources. Aerodyne, you lead us off."

"Resources: grenades, plus a pistol and a knife," Madison recited. "Also, potential allies in the form of the ABB, and maybe civilians who see us as the bad guy."

"So we need to watch our backs at all times," Emma noted. "Good. Vista: abilities."

Missy nodded to acknowledge her. "A blend of teleporting and duplication. Goes somewhere else but leaves a pile of ash behind. The duplication happens a few seconds before the ash thing, so he can have two or three duplicates fighting at the same time."

"Ten seconds," Lisa clarified. "Theoretically, he could have ten to fifteen duplicates in an area at once. But he's never gone past four, for some reason. Maybe psychological, maybe power-based."

"Teleportation is strictly line of sight," Taylor continued. "I've never seen him jump to a place he wasn't looking at."

"Grue could actually be handy, there." Lisa raised her eyebrows as everyone else looked at her. "Hey, it's just a thought."

"It's one we'll keep in mind," Danny said. "Does anyone else have anything to add?"

"Yes." Riley blinked as everyone's attention swung to her again. "Hey, I'm not knocking what you're doing or anything. If you put this much attention into taking the Nine down, I'm not surprised you pulled it off. But has anyone asked why he's doing it, and gotten a solid answer?"

"Several times for the first part, zero times for the second," Emma said, and raised her eyebrows. "Do you think you've got an insight we missed?"

Riley frowned. "Not … really. But I can't help thinking you're missing a trick by not pushing harder for an answer. Mr. Jack … I know you all didn't think much of him, but he was real good at what he did. Whenever he brought a new member into the Nine, he always found out exactly what they wanted. And whenever they started getting a little antsy, he'd throw them a treat. He taught me that knowing what someone wants is important."

"Well, when we've got him in cuffs with a bag over his head, we'll be sure to ask him," Emma noted. "But as far as we know, his only real need or want is to keep the ABB going until Lung gets back. Which unfortunately isn't something we can leverage in our favour." She gave Riley a nod of encouragement. "It's good that you're asking questions, though. Keep it up."

"She's not actually wrong, though," Lisa said thoughtfully. "Oni Lee attacking Parian just doesn't mesh with what we know of his motives and past behaviour. If she'd set up in ABB turf instead of the Boardwalk, it might make more sense … but she didn't. It's an outlier. One of these things is not like the others."

"We are aware," Danny replied dryly. "So, square the circle for us. How can this be made to make sense?"

"The only reason I can think of is if he's looking to expand into the Boardwalk," Alan said slowly. "But he'll never hold it. Not on his own."

Rod Clements snapped his fingers. "Lung. He's got a plan to bust Lung out when they move him to the Birdcage. Encroaching on the Boardwalk, and scaring off 'soft' capes like Parian, those are just the opening moves. Once Lung's out, the ABB will have a resurgence. And the Boardwalk is prime turf."

"Which means it's not Oni Lee's plan," Lisa stated. "He doesn't think that deeply. Lung. Oni Lee must be in communication with Lung somehow."

Missy paled. "There's got to be a mole in the PRT, passing messages. I have to warn the Director."

"Probably more than one," Danny advised. He raised a finger. "Let's keep our own plans on the down-low for the moment, okay?"

"Well, duh." Missy rolled her eyes. "After the dirty trick she pulled on Flechette, she's not exactly my favourite person in the world either. But she needs to know about the mole."

"Make the call," Alan Barnes said. "Then contact Flechette. Ask her if she'd like to be in on the bust."

Taylor caught Emma's eye, and they both grinned at the same time. "As if she'd miss it."

One Hour Later
Flechette

Lily crouched with the other members of Team Samaritan on a rooftop in the middle of ABB territory. It was weird; they all seemed to be communicating with each other with just glances, even Vista. With her awareness of movement and balance, she could tell they were even moving in concert.

"He's coming this way." Ladybug was several yards away and her lips didn't move, but Lily heard her voice all the same; an almost subliminal hum, from all around her.

"Good." Sparx, somewhat closer, whispered the word and had her extended hair-tendrils spell out the words at the same time. "Flechette, you're Plan A. Ladybug, Plan B. Glory Girl, Plan C. Panacea, Plan D."

"I like Plan C," murmured Glory Girl, but she didn't move to jump the gun.

Lily already knew all this, and a great deal more, from the briefing Team Samaritan had given her when they met up just outside ABB territory. Far from having to search that area of town house by house, they already knew where Oni Lee was (thanks to Ladybug's insane range with her powers) and were just finalising the exact means for taking him down. She'd been even more taken aback when she learned exactly what Plan A entailed.

A wireframe model of the street below and the surrounding buildings sprang up on the rooftop between them. Moments later, a group of bugs landed on the building where they were, and more bugs zoomed in to land where people apparently were located. A large black bug with a blinking firefly perched on its back was moving along the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street.

"Three …" Ladybug's 'voice' hummed over the rooftop. "Two … one … now!"

At 'now', Lily snapped upright, arbalest already going to her shoulder. It was loaded, the metal needle already energised and the chain from the internal reservoir connected. She'd had all the time in the world to get ready.

Oni Lee was precisely where she'd known he would be. At that moment, he was waving away a fly. Thanks, Ladybug. She aimed, got her sight picture, and squeezed the trigger.

The needle shot away across the street, paying out the long thin chain behind it. Due to the effect of her energising power, it flew in a micrometer-straight line, neither dropping due to gravity nor slowing due to air resistance. It hit Oni Lee's foot, punched through into the concrete beneath … and stopped, the rear of it still sticking into the air and the chain leading back up to where she was.

Taking the arbalest, Lily affixed the chain to the wall and leaped up to balance on the chain. Purpose-made notches in the cleats of her boots allowed her to slide down it with remarkable ease, especially after she made her boots frictionless.

When she reached the bottom, she stepped off the chain and swung the butt of the arbalest in one smooth move. Oni Lee had been fruitlessly trying to yank his foot free; he attempted to duck aside from her blow but she compensated and connected cleanly with the side of his jaw behind the mask. He went down without another sound. "That's for the grenade," she said out loud.

In another second, or so it seemed, Team Samaritan had joined her on the sidewalk, surrounding her and looking outward. Panacea went straight to Oni Lee and pulled his glove off. "A little hand here?"

"Oh, sorry." Lily pulled another needle from her quiver and energised it briefly to slice the boot off his foot, then swiped across the concrete under his sole to free his foot from that side.

"No problem." Amy applied herself once more to Oni Lee, using her fingertips to pull the steel sliver out of his foot like a splinter. "That was badass as hell when you slid down the chain, just saying."

"Thanks." Loading the needle into her arbalest, Lily cranked the cable back again. "How did you know he wouldn't be able to teleport?"

Athena answered that one as Glory Girl hefted the unconscious villain over her shoulder. "Well, I figured that if his foot was fused to the needle and the needle was fused to the sidewalk, any attempt to do his thing would require him to take a ton or so of concrete with him, and his weight limit probably wasn't that high."

"And if it had been? Or if he'd been able to separate himself?" A couple of fireflies lit up right in front of Lily's face; focusing along the line they made, she saw an ABB guy just coming into view with an assault rifle. Aiming and shooting in one quick motion—without attaching the chain this time—she nailed the rifle to the wall behind it.

"Nice shot." Sparx extended her tendrils out and zapped another guy with a pistol. "Time we got moving. Like we practised, people. If he'd been able to teleport away from it, or take it with him, Ladybug had a couple of knockout bugs on the back of his neck. Plan B, remember?"

"Ah." One step got them onto the rooftop, then they started walking, back toward where the cars were parked. "And if that failed, Glory Girl would get to punch him?"

Glory Girl answered that one, carrying Oni Lee at the head of the group. "Like I said, I liked Plan C."

"I can totally understand that." Smacking him unconscious with the butt of her arbalest had been amazingly satisfying.

With Vista assisting and Ladybug covering them, exfiltration from ABB territory was just as easy as getting in. Nobody managed to get close enough to even get a sightline on them, and the few that tried were dealing with swarms of insects trying to crawl into places insects most definitely should not be. Lily did her best to keep her head up and on a swivel like the rest of them, but once more she was vividly aware that they had a level of teamwork going on that she simply didn't possess. Even Vista, after just two weeks as their liaison, was integrating with them to an impressive degree.

When they got back to the cars, driven by Delta and Romeo, the attention to detail didn't slack off. The paint jobs on each vehicle was obscured by a coating of bugs and the license plates were entirely covered. Both adults, wearing basic cloth masks and concealing clothing, sported pump-action shotguns that looked thoroughly businesslike. They zip-tied Oni Lee's hands and feet—Panacea had long since healed the wound made by the steel needle—removed his mask and weapons, then shoved a bag over his head and deposited him in the trunk of one of the cars.

Ladybug got into the front passenger seat of the car holding Oni Lee, while Aerodyne did the same in the other. Lily got into the back seat of the car with Ladybug, along with Vista and Panacea; Sparx, Glory Girl and Athena climbed into the other one. As the swarm overhead flew off in entirely the wrong direction, the two cars rolled sedately away from ABB territory.

End of Part Thirty-Two