Marquis had returned to town. That was... Perplexing.
The PRT was still investigating how, which meant that his contacts couldn't figure out and...
He'd sent Osborn to investigate, but he'd had to drop that timeline as he'd ended up in a fight with Marquis's new, demonic, associate and it got loud enough that he would have had to burn the man and Osborn was just so useful. Not only in that having the Iron Patriot on his payroll let him more easily take out competing villains, but the man was a scientific genius. The weapons and vehicles, he engineered the drug that took care of his pet oracle's headaches which was far more effective than the narcotic he'd originally intended to use, in general recruiting the man had been the best decision he'd made all year.
It even made up for having to... Abandon the Undersiders, other than Tattletale of course, not long after.
But, back to the topic at hand... In one timeline, Coil was supervising as his information teams and spies searched and pooled information to try and learn what became of the earthly remains of Amelia Dallon. It was obvious that she was someone related to the bone using villain, even before considering that Marquis first action since his escape was to murder her killer, and any information that could guide the former crime boss on his obvious quest for vengeance could be used to manipulate him to Coil's benefit.
In the other, Thomas Calvert had given the team the night off and was driving home to get a good night's sleep. This would be the timeline he kept, unless he absolutely needed to have proof of how he learned something the team turned up. Evening traffic wasn't... Too bad, but...
All of a sudden, a large truck suddenly swerved right into his vehicle and...
Well, he wasn't getting any sleep tonight. What were the odds? No, seriously, what were the odds? A freak accident like that... It'd never happened to him before, but dumb luck and...
He'd ponder on it later. Right now, he was...
He turned as he heard small feet approaching him, his pet coming up to him with the large, somewhat sick, smile characteristic of herself just after taking her medication, her arms behind her back.
"You shouldn't be here, pet," he told her, "you need to rest and nurse your headache." He'd plumbed her power quite through in the last few days, looking for signs of where Marquis was and what he was up to. Luckily, the medication Osborn had created for her left her quite compliant. "Now, back to... where did you get—"
Suddenly, with a demented giggle, like some kind of gremlin or goblin, his pet pulled a pistol that seemed almost comically large in her small hands. In one timeline he dodged left and took the bullet in the side. In the other, he dodged right, took it in the heart, and died before he could drop the timeline.
His pet, still laughing dementedly, stood over him and fired again, this time aimed at his throat.
They say that you're supposed to feel cold as you die, but all he could think as everything went black was that he was uncomfortably warm, like standing just slightly too close to a bonfire.
A Serpent King stole the princess from the home in which she did dwell
A kindly goblin fed her an elixir that mended her brain's swell
The medicine made her strong and fast and smart it did
And helped her realize that she was more than a kid
To escape, go home, she did consider.
But then clarity and reason they did hit her
Fun to have, to laugh and play
If she stood still and did make the snake pay.
She learned the layout of her prison
While the Serpent King's questions he kept hissin'
A shiny trinket she did pilfer
While goblin's lessons they did fill her
A cunning plan
The time was right
To take her revenge
This was the night
'Clicker-clack' went the gun
Fun fun fun fun
Splat went the blood, out oozed his life
Thought the princess, 'glad I didn't use a knife'
And that mean old Serpent King now burns deep in Hell
The princess rules the Labyrinth, now ain't that swell?
...Director Piggot wanted to swear.
A few days ago, Marquis had escaped from the Birdcage. A little later, Thomas Calvert's dismembered corpse had been FedExed to her doorstep in thirteen different boxes with a note, written in green crayon, that said "you're welcome, love The Goblin Princess."
Forensics was still picking his body part for evidence, but the last thing that she needed was two different demented psychopaths in her city at the same time... Not counting the nazis.
She made a note to step up efforts to find and recruit the Eisenhardt character who'd brought in Hookwolf and his lackey, or to figure out where Iron Patriot had come from... Honestly, she should probably ask Cuddlebug about them but the entitled brat probably had a clause in that thrice-damned contract...
She was going to kill Lafayette. Just as soon as she could figure out a way to fire him without triggering his severance package becuase he'd somehow managed to negotiate one that would bankrupt the department.
She was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of Tattletale... Sorry, Ms. Mystic, coming into her office without knocking. The probationary Ward sat a stack of printed documents on Piggot's desk and said "You need these now that the fucker is dead. As for how I have this, I plead the fifth on anything that you didn't already know about. I've already talked to Mister Lafayette about renegotiating my contract in the light of the information I can share now that I couldn't before without putting my life at risk, he should be up with my new contract by the end of the day."
Then she left without giving the Director a chance to respond.
Piggot sighed and wished that she'd gotten Panacea to cure her kidney damage when she had the chance. She'd had her reasons. Pride. Not wanting to take advantage of resources that others in her position didn't have. The risk of it seemingly improper of her to take a "favor" from a parahuman, especially a minor, in her jurisdiction, the potential conflict of interest if New Wave had done something that lead them to have trouble with the law.
But right now, she desperately wanted to drown her frustrations in single malt scotch and she could not without killing herself.
As she looked through the stack of papers... Well, the bright side in all of this was that she was right not to trust Calvert.