Interlude: Messenger
The plaque on the desk and door proclaimed this office was the office of Director Simmons. Director of the New Orleans Parahuman Response Team. What it should have read was 'Parahuman Babysitter Simmons'. That, at least, would have been a far more accurate description of what his job actually seemed to entail lately.
They didn't pay him enough for days like today.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he asked the sole other occupant of the room, "Let me see if I have this straight."
Drummer flinched at his forced monotone.
"While on patrol in the lower 9th Ward, which I'll get back to shortly, Baritone and Guppy positively identified the villain known as Two Mauls walking alone down the street."
"Yes sir."
"They called it into Console."
"Yes sir."
"Console ordered them to follow at a distance but to not confront as all Protectorate assets were currently busy dealing with Bayou Amos and his fight with The Kree?"
"Yes sir."
"Alright," Simmons grunted. "Here is where I find myself curious because what Console ordered, isn't what happened. Is it?"
"No sir."
"So explain to me," Simmons growled making Drummer flinch, "how our two underage Wards ended up in a fight with a murderous villain like Two Mauls?"
Licking his lips, Drummer reported, "According to Baritone, Two Mauls spotted them following him, and attacked first."
"I see."
That was complete garbage of course. Two Mauls had enhanced hearing so it was plausible, but everyone had been briefed on his abilities the day he escaped. Baritone wasn't stupid. Just the opposite. A good kid who despite a rough start, was doing well for himself in the program.
Simmons didn't want these kids trained for this kind of thing, but the agency gave the option to those who wanted it so he didn't have a choice. Baritone was one of those who wanted it and studied hard. If he wasn't a parahuman, in a few years, he could have made some police chief's day when he applied for the academy. He tried hard, followed rules, was fiercely protective of his teammates and genuinely seemed to care about helping people.
But despite everything, Baritone was still a kid, and definitely not seasoned law enforcement despite the powers given to them to act in that stead. It was obvious to the Director after looking over the report that what was written, while factual, wasn't nearly all that went on, nor was it the hard truth of what did happen. And this didn't even include Guppy's statement.
And that was a completely different sack of shit Simmons wasn't even remotely interested in opening right now.
"Alright, so let's assume that story is going to wash for the moment," Simmons said, flipping through the report. It probably would, but not because it was the truth. Just because it was believable and there was a lack of evidence to the contrary.
Plus, image. Something that was far more important to the capes on the roster, than it was to him. If Simmons had his way, they would wear every black eye proudly. He found lessons paid for often lasted longer with less negative consequence. But, not everyone saw it his way.
Sighing, Simmons continued, leaving his thoughts unvoiced. "The fight lasted for a long time, according to the various calls into the emergency hotline. Baritone can take that kind of abuse and apparently Guppy hid, or kept his distance up until the hydrant supplied what he needed to help. Despite how outclassed they were, reports suggest they held their own. That was, according to Baritones report, until Gambit arrived. The fight ended fairly quickly once Two Mauls spotted Gambit. He attacked her and she knocked him out. That should have ended the fight that wasn't supposed to happen in the first place in the area they were not supposed to be in. Am I wrong in this assessment?"
Drummer remained quiet. Simmons wasn't surprised.
"I'm glad we're on the same page," Simmons said flatly. "So before we continue, explain to me why two of my Wards were in the lower 9th in the first place. I don't remember any of them being rated for that patrol path."
"It was daytime," Drummer supplied. "And the deviation was authorized after a tip was called in. Just for reconnaissance and only to verify the information."
Simmons sighed again. He was doing that a lot today. This was all starting to look like a whole slew of unfortunate events dogpiling one on the other. Just one bad mistake after another.
"I see," the Director mumbled. And he did, but he wasn't going to voice it. However, this wasn't the first time he'd seen this odd pattern of events. Which could only mean one thing, and that was very disturbing considering her recent break in pattern. Still, worry wasn't proof. Not that they'd get any if she really was involved more than the events witnessed.
"Before we get to the part where our Wards failed to secure Two Mauls and therefore allowed him to beat them both severely, tell me about Guppy's injuries. What did medical say was the final list?" Simmons asked ignoring his inner thoughts.
A few more questions and answers, and Simmons dismissed Drummer.
Sighing at the time, he opened his desk drawer. Taking the bottle and small glass inside, he poured a shot of his favorite bourbon. Letting the smooth yet harsh liquid ease the aches in his muscles while calming his nerves.
"Sir?" Candice's voice rang through the intercom on his desk. "I have a Rebecca Mills on the line from the Youth Guard. She's very...adamant about talking to you."
"Send my shock troopers to kill her," Simmons half joked tiredly.
His secretary's chuckle preceded her wry, "Sorry sir, you know they took away your shock troopers after the last time."
"See, this is why I can't ever get anything done around here," he sighed. "In that case tell Ms. Mills that I have left the office and will return her call tomorrow. If she persists or asked about the debacle that happened earlier today, tell her that our official stance is, the issue is under investigation. When we know more, she will."
"Very good Director," Candice chuckled.
"Also, send a message down the chain for Baritone that I want to speak with him first thing tomorrow."
"It's a school day, Director."
"Yes I'm aware," Simmons smirked. "And he'll sit all day in his classes sweating out why I want to see him and wondering what I know that he doesn't. Which is the least he owes me for this mess of his. I would ask the same of Guppy, but medical thinks he's going to be their guest for at least two weeks."
"That is evil, sir," Candice snickered. "I'll make sure the message is relayed."
"And tell someone in Washington I want my shock troopers back. It's very hard to be an evil tyrant masquerading as a public servant without my shock troopers!"
She snorted, "I'll get right on that sir."
Once the line disconnected, he poured himself a second shot. Simmons took his time sipping as he thought.
Even without her sudden appearance and dramatic ending of the fight, both times, he knew, somehow, Gambit and her little club of 'misunderstood citizens' were somehow involved in this mess. This kind of thing was exactly how she operated.
Closing the folder, he stood, grabbed his jacket and hat to leave. Then his phone chimed.
'When I sit at a table, I like to know the game being played. If you do as well, message back yes exactly at 4:24pm tomorrow.'
"What the hell is your game this time?" Director Simmons asked himself.
That was a question that bothered him all night and bled into the next day. Against his better judgment, he replied as instructed receiving only a single word in return. 'Understood'. That was it.
Sitting in the spacious office at home later that night, Simmons contemplated everything that had, and had not, happened in the last few days. Right up until a soft knock behind him broke him from his inner thoughts.
He wasn't even surprised by who it was.
"I would ask how you broke into my house," he groused. "But I don't think you'd tell me."
"You have three holes in your camera footage," the delicate voice surprisingly answered. "And your alarm system is mostly commercial."
"Why does it sound like this isn't the first time you've done this?"
"It's not, but only once before. Just to see if I could. I like the addition of the laser grid. I almost missed it."
Simmons sighed, turning away from the window to his uninvited guest. Gambit stood framed in the light coming from the hallway. Dressed in her usual body armor with the addition of a trench coat. Something she picked up during her visit to Brockton Bay, according to informants.
But it was her eyes that completely stole his attention. Oh, he'd seen the pictures, and the few videos they could get, but that didn't quite have the same impact as looking into those black pits. And that was what they looked like to him, pitch black pits where her eyes should have been. Each with a ring of slightly glowing blood red hovering within.
Forcing the chill racing down his spine to not show, he casually asked, "What makes you think I won't activate the alarms from in here?"
She didn't answer, just stared steadily at him with those hellish eyes.
"You already disabled them..." he sighed. "Of course you did."
"You can turn them back on after I leave," she offered magnanimously.
"Not the point, Gambit."
"It was kind of mine."
Simmons waved the intruder over to an empty chair across from him. Once she took it he asked, "I assume this unorthodox meeting has a purpose behind it?"
"Baritone said you wanted to ask me some questions," Gambit stated. "He and Guppy seemed very adamant on bringing me in so you could. I was curious about why?"
"There was a misunderstanding in how that was phrased," Simmons sighed, rubbing his nose. "Wards were told to contact Console if you were spotted and we would send a Protectorate asset to talk with you."
"That is not what it sounded like from your agents," she said calmly. "They specifically mentioned my visit to Brockton Bay. I wasn't aware I was under surveillance."
"You're not," he answered. At her raised eyebrow, he shrugged. "Drummer got a call from there asking about you. Something about you thumping some normals protecting a girl scout?"
"I like girl scouts. They make the best cookies."
Mouth twitching despite himself, Simmons nodded. "I've talked with both of them about the incident. They were just very...enthusiastic considering most of the Protectorate was busy with Bayou Amos and The Kree tearing up other parts of my city. Probably amped from fighting Two Mauls. Even you have to admit, he is a...concerning opponent. They took an initiative they shouldn't have."
"That's a very nice and political way of saying that because they think I'm a villain that I don't have any rights."
"As I said there was a misunderstanding in the phrasing of their instructions," he repeated.
Gambit nodded, eyes still fixed hard on him. "And yet, that doesn't make me wrong."
Simmons sighed but didn't comment. She wasn't wrong, but that was a problem to settle in house and regardless of her status, she was an outsider. Besides, technically, they were on opposite sides.
"Do you think I"m a villain, Director?" Gambit asked after several moments of silence.
"I think you are a very troubled young woman who needs a psychologist in the worst way."
"Oh?" Gambit smiled.
"In the last two years I've watched you move through my city, I've seen evidence of a personality type that is narcissistic, kleptomaniacal, pathological, adrenaline-addicted, anti-authority, and given to reckless suicidal tendencies. No offense to you, Gambit. But a self styled hero that moonlights as a thief? You have serious issues."
"Who's moonlighting?" Gambit asked smirking.
"I noticed you didn't deny anything else."
"I wouldn't presume to counter the effort you're people put into my psych profile," she replied smoothly. "Although I have never been so presumptuous to call myself a hero. Just not a villain."
Nodding to the last point, Simmons pointed out, "But the people you help do call you a hero. Trust me, that is something that has caused a great deal of concern for us considering what we suspect you get up to when no one's looking."
"Not because I ask them to," she countered, not bothering to address the second bit. "I help them because they are good people in a bad way. What they call me for doing that isn't a factor. I know what I am."
"And what is that, exactly?"
"I am Gambit," the cape smirked. "But all this isn't why I asked to see you tonight."
"A question I would like to know myself."
"I heard there was an incident a few days ago. Burglary and two fatalities," Gambit stated emotionlessly. All traces of her earlier amusement gone. "People seem to think there is a connection between it and other...similar mysteries that have taken place in the last few years."
Nodding slowly, Simmons waited keeping his eyes on the cape across from him.
"Now, hypothetically speaking of course, if prior mysteries had a hidden hand, or hands, it might be an affront to their sensibilities that such a link existed."
Simmons nodded finally understanding exactly what was going on. "That would slightly reassure certain people. Doesn't do anything for the dead, however."
Reaching into her coat, Gambit pulled a thick vanilla envelope free, setting it on the table. "Perhaps this will."
Cautiously pick it up and opening it, Simmons eyes widened when he pulled the high definition glossy leading everything else from within. Blinking away his surprise, he quickly moved through the contents taking in several startling facts.
Locations, safe houses, stash houses, even a few names. And that wasn't all either. There was a small list of suspected people who had been 'influenced' by this gang. Several within the PRT and one in the Protectorate.
"If find this last accusation to be...farfetched."
"He was compensated for his involvement in the Two Mauls incident the other day," Gambit replied uncaringly.
"That is a bold statement."
"I provided the video of our confrontation. It is well known Guppy and I do not get along, but this level of hate for me was surprising. He's always kept his hatred for me balanced before. I found out why when I looked into it. Also, that file is the only copy left. Those who donated deleted theirs."
"Even if a quarter of this is accurate, why?"
"Why?"
"Yes, why?" Simmons frowned. "You don't do anything without wanting something for it. So what are you getting from any of this?
"There is a certain professional pride one should have in the work they do, do you not agree?" Gambit softly asked.
"Even that doesn't explain why you are throwing what looks like your entire organization to the wolves. That doesn't make sense, not after everything you've done over the last two years."
"I'm doing no such thing," she replied calmly. "I'm merely a concerned citizen who happened to come across sensitive information and decided to bring it to a responsible member of law enforcement."
"Except, there is little evidence of cape involvement, aside from you."
"I'm sure you know how best to move it. More so than I would."
"And you still haven't answered my question. What do you want from this?"
"For you to act on it," Gambit answered, getting up from her chair, walking to the door.
"This Marcus must have done something pretty bad to get under your skin like this," Simmons risked pitching.
Gambit paused at the door. "I'm leaving New Orleans."
Curiosity peaked at that free tidbit, he asked, "For how long?"
"Permanently, I hope."
After thinking on it a moment, he chuckled, asking, "Should I warn Director Piggot she should expect to see more of you in her city?"
"I'm sure they'll figure it out soon enough," Gambit surprisingly answered. "You know me, I like to be a part of things."
Shaking his head at how bizarre this whole encounter with the enigmatic cape was going, not to mention how unbelievably talkative she was he asked, "You know, evidence or not, Piggot isn't going to treat you like I did. She's a much harder woman and sees the world much differently. She's also a hell of a lot smarter than I am and when she's got a bone in her teeth, she could give a bulldog a challenge."
"I'll keep that in mind but I think a change of pace would be best for all of us, don't you think?"
Looking at the opened envelope again, Simmons nodded. "I think that is something we can agree on."
"Besides, Brockton has something I've been looking for."
"And what would that be?"
"Answers," Gambit whispered, leaving the room as silently as she entered.