Jim wondered if he'd ever see Emily Piggot crack a smile again like she had when they'd walked a trembling Thomas Calvert into the PRT headquarters in the face of dozens of flashing cameras. He'd protested when they'd decided to do it in his Coil costume, sans mask, but a look from Jim had shut Coil up. The news was full of how he'd attempted to kidnap Dinah, leading to her being taken by the Butcher. Or rather, a Jane Doe, but enough people could make the connection that Dinah was well and truly outed. So Jim wasn't really bugged by outing Calvert.
Regardless, Director Piggot looked like Christmas had come early when she took Calvert into custody and then restricted Jim and Claire to the base.
Which, for like three days hadn't been a problem, because between being interviewed by the PRT, DEA, FBI and a half dozen other agencies including some that had men wearing suits who didn't offer names or identification, and writing reports, Jim and Claire didn't have much time to do anything.
It turned out that when Tattletale had dropped Coil's records into the PRT, they'd discovered some very nasty things indeed, including some of his revenue streams. Drugs, extortion, the transport of illegal tinkertech…
He'd even been preparing to import a group of villains into the Bay, but they'd vanished before the Protectorate could get them.
The Undersiders had vanished, after giving some quick reports under the truce. According to Velocity, it had been decided that in light of their services, nobody would inquire too closely into where Coil's savings had gone.
Then the hero had grinned and told Jim and Claire that Piggot, while considering what to do with them, had back-authorized four days of extreme hazard pay for them, which doubled the normal Wards payment.
"The wages of heroism…" Claire stared at her paycheck.
"Are evidently not as much as what being shady sort of heroes who loot the bad guy's bank accounts get," Jim said. "Maybe we should have reconsidered demanding some payment from Tattletale, I mean, Wards can get money for mowing lawns in their off-hours and this was…sort of like mowing the lawn, if the lawn was evil…"
Claire giggled. "Speaking of Tattletale, did you see what Regent looked like?"
"Yeah, he's…"
"Amelia took some of Grue's DNA and did a mix… so now we've got a taller, darker, more buff Regent." Claire looked around. Regent and his father's identity were known at very high levels in the PRT—but nobody else was to know. "No way anyone will tie him with the old Regent, so he's safe."
"Didn't he talk about being a girl?"
"Yeah. That didn't work. He started with: A body, you know, better than yours, and no periods, because Tattletale is always in a bad mood when she's on the rag."
Jim put his pen down. "You're kidding."
"Nope. So Dinah made a prediction: 99 percent chance Regent would really regret this and he decided to go with the guy model."
"He needed Dinah to predict that?"
"I think he doesn't know what fear is." Claire leaned down and looked at her report. "And I'm done with my report to the National Security Agency." She sighed. "You'd think we could just write one report and we'd be done…"
"Maybe it's part of our punishment," Jim said. "The power of paperwork."
"I think that next time we go after a bad guy, maybe we should ask him how many federal agencies he's pissed off." Claire gestured at the paperwork. "If it's more than five, he gets a free pass."
"I—" The door to the Wards Quarters slid open and Missy walked in. Jim tensed. She was wearing her street clothes, and pulled off her mask without saying a thing.
Missy had come back from LA the night of Coil's capture. She'd promptly been taken in to talk with Director Piggot, Youth Guard, and Armsmaster.
Now, Jim noticed that her face was blotchy, and she was laying back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
"Hey," Claire said.
"Hey," Missy replied. "I'm off the patrol roster for two weeks. I have to have a session with a psychologist every other day. They'll decide if I can go back to work." She paused. "And I'm supposed to wear a locater when I'm off duty, because I tried to find Dinah!"
No. Because you tried to find the Butcher and got ambushed by the Teeth. Jim sucked his breath in uneasily.
Missy was staring at him. "You went out and got them, and they're talking about… never mind."
"Missy," Jim said. "I didn't just go out by myself. We had allies. Not just the Undersiders, but Faultline's Crew, and before we got into the fight, we managed to get a note to Director Piggot."
"Nobody knew where you were," Claire said. "And Animos neutralized your power. If it hadn't been for the fact that Dinah was still… in charge, things could have gone a lot worse."
"I know," Missy growled. "Piggy talked to me about that. Missy, what if they sold you to the Fallen, what if they gave you to the Yangban!" She huffed. "They didn't. All they did was break my arm."
Jim winced at that. "When I…" he paused. "Claire's little brother had been taken by a villain back home. Gunmar."
Missy looked up. "You've talked about him a little bit."
Because I really didn't want to talk about him a lot. Not except to the Protectorate.
"Yeah. He had… Okay, Gunmar was a warlord. Tough, smart. Pissed off because I had killed his son and he had Claire's little brother."
"That's…"
"Bad. And we were going to go in and save Enrique… but right before that, one of Gunmar's servants killed…" Jim shook his head. He didn't even like remembering it. Claire touched his arm and he continued. "…A real close friend of mine. And I didn't want to risk anyone else. So I went in to get Enrique alone."
"Did you save him?"
"Yeah, but I got captured, and if not for my friends, I'd have been killed—or worse. Gunmar had a power like Heartbreaker's."
Missy hissed. "What happened to him."
"I killed him later, but the thing is, you forgot Jim's rule. We're stronger together. If I or Claire had tried to hunt Dinah down and save her by ourselves, we would have lost and we would be where you are right now, and we'd be in just as much trouble."
Missy didn't say anything, just rolled over on her belly, face down on the couch. "They're going to make me spend more time with Mom and Dad, together." She paused. "Because Missy, you don't understand. Missy, when you're older you'll be thankful that we keep making you spend time with them when they're yelling at each other!"
Okay, I'm officially out of my depth here. Jim and Claire didn't have that problem.
"Missy…" Claire said. "Have you told them about that?"
"Yeah. They say they'll schedule more mandatory counseling with me and them, and it never works."
"Why not…" Claire tapped her chin, then grinned. "Hang on. I need to talk to someone for a second." There was a flare of purple and she was gone.
"What…" Missy looked up.
Jim shrugged. "Dunno, get Merlin to make voodoo dolls of your parents and poke'em whenever they start fighting?"
That got a giggle from Missy. Fragile, but still a giggle.
"Triumph, I need to borrow Dinah," Claire said. Dinah had been returned to her parents, but it had been decided that between E88, the Elite and whoever else might know about her power, she was staying here while their ultimate destiny was decided on.
Claire had given her a locator crystal, one of the first she'd managed to create. Because anyone else who tries to kidnap her again gets a short trip to Behemoth.
Triumph looked over at her from where he was sitting by Dinah, who was currently watching a cartoon, involving brightly colored… Ponies.
Claire had seen similar cartoons, though she didn't remember Alexandria and Eidolon coming through a portal to save the kingdom in any of them.
"It's…" Triumph looked down at Dinah. "I—" he paused, and thought.
"It's okay, as long as you're not asking for a direct prediction," Dinah said. "Pipewrench helped me figure that out." She glanced over at Claire. "He used to be a hero, before he became part of the Butcher."
"Oh." Claire shivered. Even with Amelia's work, to spend your whole life with over a dozen people in your mind… "Can I ask some questions, they're for Missy."
"I…" Triumph frowned. "Shadowdancer, I'm required to record any questions, and it's…"
"Okay," Dinah said. "Missy's a friend. I'm really sorry I broke her arm, but the Butchers were telling me what would happen if she kept trying to find us."
"Right…" Claire frowned and thought. "If Missy stays with us, three days out of the week, what is the chance that her relationship with her parents will be improved in a month?"
"Seventy five percent." Dinah paused, wrinkled her nose in concentration. "But if she stays more than four days a week, the chance goes down to 10 percent."
Why would… Claire shook her head. She didn't need anything else than that. "One last question. If Missy stays with us three days out of the week, will her morale improve in a month?"
"Eighty-five percent chance that it goes up." Dinah said. Then she focused, and winced once. "And a 90 percent chance that her work improves." She shook her head. "I don't think I can do more than that. It doesn't hurt as much as it might—I just have one of my friendly Butcher's ask, but they were asking me questions about some things today."
"I thought you were on rest…"
"She was," Triumph said. "But people kept 'accidentally' asking questions, you know things that come up in conversation, like the DEA liason asking so, what's the chance that we'll have a big drug bust this week?" He shook his head. "That's why we're recording conversations and I'm here in case anyone else drops by."
"Omigosh," Claire said. "I'm sorry, Dinah, I shouldn't…"
Dinah smiled. "It's okay. Missy's my friend, and I knew there was a ninety percent chance I'd be able to help her today."
"Thanks." Claire smiled. "I've gotta talk to the Youth Guard and Piggot now!"
Taylor.
The debrief hadn't taken as long as I thought it would. The bounty for helping in the capture of the teeth had been donated to my account, along with the amount Tattletale had promised.
Just under 500,000 dollars.
It didn't seem real. After all the years of sinking, Dad never having quite enough money and now…
Well, I wasn't rich, but I was certainly well off, especially for less than five days work.
I'd taken my uniform off, and headed off to the library. I had a new computer now, with high-speed data, but…
I liked the library. Even now, it reminded me of days when I would come in and just have fun… Sometimes with Emma.
Before Sophia had gotten to her.
It was odd though. Sophia liked to talk about her strange predator and prey fixation, at least the documents I'd been given said so…
And here I was. A figure of dread to most of the criminals. Shadow Stalker had barely been known, and I…
I'd actually seen some weird shrines set up with spiders and paintings of webs around them, a few statues of saints standing before candles.
It'd taken some research to find out that these weren't shrines to me, they were asking various saints to intercede with criminals to protect them from me.
I had to admit, with a little pride (and some disturbance) that even Hookwolf didn't have that.
But right now I was staring at a private message from PHO.
Private message from Bastard Son (Verified Cape) (Verified Bastard):
Bastard Son (Verified Cape) (Verified Bastard) *New Message*: So, Just to let you know, Orb Weaver, we're having a little get together at Somer's Rock. no violence, no fighting, just me, some of the guys, Kaiser, a few others. I was figuring you and some of the other independent heroes might want to show up, to talk about things going forward, so we can keep things calm. I know you're a hero, but you're my kind of hero. You know, really pragmatic.
Remember, this is talking, not fighting, and I don't think it'd be a good idea if the Protectorate showed up.
PS: Give Jim and Claire my thinks. They really saved us some trouble. If they ever want to make some real money, tell 'em to look me up.
Bastard Son was nearly as violent as the Slaughterhouse.
To his enemies. But the Elite focused on white-collar crime and dominating the economy. If most gangs were parasites, they were…
Well, farmers.
And Bastard Son was a roving troubleshooter for the Elite. The best way to get him, and his potential for violence out of the city would be to calm things down…and as much as the PRT hated it, my research showed that many independents were happy with the Elite. If they had to pay money, they only had to do it to one paymaster and the Elite tended to keep things calm…
I probably would show up.
It'd also let me know if Bastard Son was just being snarky, or if he had plans for Jim and Claire.
I owed them a great deal, after all.