Montage 2.7

To her immense displeasure - and Taylor's glee - we dropped Riley off first. The house was on the way, and I was privately relieved – I didn't want Sveta to be alone in the barn for longer than she had to be, and Riley couldn't come with us to the PRT anyways. While initially happy, Taylor grew quieter and quieter as the drive went on.

"Sorry about this," Hannah told her, smiling; it didn't lessen the anxiety in her eyes. "I meant for you to stay another night, but there's been a family emergency."

"A-alright," Taylor said, looking between the two of us. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes. I've already called your parents; they'll be home." There was a tone of finality in her voice that forbade further questioning.

Up ahead, distinctive red and blue lights flashed through the trees – a checkpoint. With my senses activated, I could see a pair of drones hovering silently just out of linear sight.

Interesting.

We stopped. After a moment, an officer shone a flashlight around the car while another took a picture of Hannah's proffered driver's license with a portable reader. After a moment, he nodded crisply and waved us through.

"What's going on?" Taylor asked, surprised.

"An Amber alert," Hannah said, frowning. "Nothing for you to be concerned about."

Au contraire. An Amber alert meant Claire was still in the city – or at least, they thought she was. Brockton Bay had some fairly unforgiving hills, and with enough manpower it would be theoretically simple to establish a perimeter.

In theory.

Claire and I weren't very close. She'd always been standoffish, almost shy, but I couldn't help but think that was partly my fault – I'd never made much of an effort at getting to know her. If something happened to Claire while I was out relaxing on a beach –

Hannah rested one hand on mine; I relaxed. Slightly.

Don't worry, her eyes said silently.

Resisting the urge to call her a hypocrite, I nodded, looking out the window.

--

We dropped Taylor off, changed – not in a phone booth, sadly - then immediately drove to the PRT headquarters.

The front gate was more destroyed than I remembered it being when I left, though it looked better than when the Nine attacked. The entryway was singed and blasted, but at least the fires were out.

The meeting was on the fourth floor. Since the elevators were out, Vista shuttled us up directly.

It seemed like every local hero in the Protectorate was there, with the exception of Cognit. The rest of the seats were made up of soldiers I didn't recognize. I frowned at Vista, who shrugged; she didn't know where our leader was either.

The quiet conversations hushed as Armsmaster stood, looking battered and tired in his soot stained armor.

"We don't have a lot of time, so I'll keep this brief." He twitched a finger; a wall screen activated, showing the service entrance. A middle aged man walked onscreen, joined a few seconds later by a PRT trooper. The camera zoomed in on the first man's face and froze. "Approximately eight hours ago decorated officer Jacob Higgs entered the PRT offices with an explosive device. When the door guard challenged him, it detonated."

Vista turned a little green as the picture shifted again, and she wasn't the only one – even Assault looked uneasy.

"Per protocol, the PRT building entered lockdown and personnel were called in. Once the situation stabilized, I took a squad and searched the Higgs home." Armsmaster grimaced. "Mary Higgs is dead, and Claire, their ward, is missing."

"Dear God," one of the soldiers breathed.

"With the cooperation of the Brockton Bay police department, we have closed off the main roads out of the city, but we need more manpower. You, the reinforcements from Miami and New York, are here to help keep order and relieve the main force." Armsmaster gazed out at them for a moment. "You'll receive assignments within the hour. Everyone not part of the Brockton Bay Protectorate, dismissed."

There was general chaos for a few minutes while uniformed bodies shuffled around, making for the exits. I took the time to think. The video seemed to indicate a Master influence, though blackmail or other mundane means weren't entirely impossible. It was hard to tell without sound. Still, my money was on a parahuman, which meant someone like Valefor or Regent.

God, I hope it wasn't Regent. Fighting him would just beweird.

"Everyone present should be aware of Claire's Ward status." Armsmaster scowled. "However, what you are not aware of is that Claire has family, and a very notable family at that."

The screen clicked, showing what looked like a driver's license photo. He had sharp, cold eyes, and black hair with a distinguished shock of gray at his temples. There was just one word under the picture - Vasil.

"Heartbreaker," Battery growled. My hands tried to tighten into fists, making my armrests squeak and shudder.

Armsmaster nodded. "Claire turned herself in to the Proctectorate in exchange for immunity and protection from her family. The Chief Director agreed, but limited the scope of her ability and rendered its capabilities top secret. Her true ability is empathic projection – not just sensing, as we've advertised, but broadcasting and manipulation."

When we met I suspected there was more to her ability, since all abilities hadsomesort of combat use, butthat's obviously Cherish.

"What was Costa-Brown thinking?" For a second I thought I'd spoken aloud, but it was Vista, and she lookedpissed."They had a Master on our team and they didn't tell us? I mean, sure, turning over a new leaf, second chances, all that jazz, butthey didn't tell us?"

What was she thinking? I could guess. Something cold and furious began to burn in my stomach.

"What the Director had in mind is above your paygrade," Armsmaster said reprovingly; Vista continued to glower. "You were in no danger – there are Master/Stranger tests performed after every counseling session to validate your mental state."

"She wasn't allowed to tell anyone," Miss Militia said, putting one hand on Vista's shoulder. "Don't hold her parents and our orders against her – it wasn't her fault."

The door opened; everyone whirled, Battery starting to glow, Miss Militia holding a shotgun.

"Sorry," Cognit said, hands in the air. "What did I miss?"

"And a round of paranoid testing for the slowpoke," I muttered. Vista's mouth twisted into an unwilling smile.

"Where were you?" Armsmaster asked, voice curt.

"I was up all last night and ended up sleeping on my phone," he defended rather lamely. "It won't happen again."

Armsmaster sighed. "Just to be safe, you're in for MS testing after this briefing."

Cognit grimaced, sitting next to Vista. "Great."

"So, just to be clear, the culprits are also Heartbreaker's children?" Assault asked.

Cognit leaned over to Vista. "So, what's going on? I heard that Claire was missing?"

"Yes," Armsmaster said stoically. "Whenever one of his children leaves without permission, Heartbreaker attempts to recover them by sending two man cells. He has both means and motive - that makes him suspect number one."

"But how do weknowit was Heartbreaker?" Miss Militia asked. "There are other Masters that could pull this off – Valefor, for example. This could be an attack on you, and Diviner a side objective."

"Claire's one of Heartbreaker's children," Vista whispered.

"What?!" Cognit hissed, eyes glancing around furtively. "That's crazy!"

"It istechnicallypossible that an unrelated Master was behind the suicide attack, but it seems unlikely in the extreme." Armsmaster said. "However, if you see Valefor lurking around, I recommend you bring him in – just in case."

I stared at him. That was . . . almost a joke. Maybe we should start the screenings early?

"It is my belief that the attack on me and the building was a diversion, meant to keep us out of the way while the abductor left with Claire." Armsmaster continued, grimacing. "Fortunately, the moment I saw the security tapes I issued an alert, and I believe they are still in the city."

"How can you tell?" I spoke up. All eyes turned to me. "Sorry, but it's a valid question – how do we know we shouldn't be looking for Heartbreaker right now?"

There were a couple of uneasy twitches, but Armsmaster was unflinching. "Over the last three hours, there has been a wave of violent petty crime - armed robbery, assault, and arson seem to be the favorites."

That connection was easy to draw.

"He's enlisting innocent people," I said, feeling sick. "He's trying to get us to send the police back, to break the blockade."

Armsmaster nodded. "Which means they're still in the city. As such, all Protectorate heroes and Wards are now scheduled for immediate deployment."

Howard stood, looking pale and ill. Every time I saw the man, his hair seemed a little grayer, his face more lined, as if the life was slowly being drained out of him. "I have received the necessary waivers from Costa-Brown. Overtime for everyone, I'm afraid."

"Like we were going to stay home anyways," Cognit said derisively. Vista and I high-fived him in turns.

"All of us are going to be out on patrol," Armsmaster said, fixing us with a glare, "but if you believe the Master is nearby, donotengage. Call for backup andretreat. Do you understand me?"

Somewhat predictably, all of us objected at once.

"You want us to just stand aside?" Vista asked, looking furious. "There's no way-"

"I'm just as much a hero as you are." Cognit crossed his arms. "You can't-"

"With all due respect, there's no way I'm running away. Claire could-"

"Enough!" Armsmaster roared. All of us flinched. "I amnotputting Wards in the line of fire on this one. We have one Ward missing already, and one of our own men was used as a highly effective suicide bomber. If he could do that much, think about how dangerous one ofyoucould be! If you see the Master, you will stayoutof his way and that's anorder."

Vista subsided, though she still looked rebellious. Cognit just scowled.

Me . . . well, I felt guilty. The only one who knew I was immune to Master effects was Riley, and not just because it would be hard to explain. Even if I went with 'I have a feeling I'm immune,' that would mean people would know, and Ilikedhaving that ace in the hole.

After all, it had apparently saved me once already.

"I want to hear your response," Armsmaster said, standing in front of us. "And it had better be 'yes sir' or you can stay here."

"Yes sir," we chorused back.

"Problem." I lifted a hand; he glowered at me. "How are we supposed to stay out of his way if we don't know what he looks like?"

He stared at me for a moment, then sighed. The screen changed again, showing a large blank space. "As a favor, Dragon ran facial recognition on several airports and border crossings. Now, Heartbreaker's children traditionally stay out of the limelight, but the ones he sends out have generally been seen in public before."

Five pictures appeared with names underneath; I made sure to memorize them.

"Take a good look, and make sure to stay out of their way. Each one has a variant of Heartbreaker's power, and each is a second generation cape." Armsmaster gave us a level look. "Stay out of their way, keep out of sight, and their individual powers won't matter. Dismissed, Wards."

We trooped out of the meeting hall like – well, like a group of surly teenagers.

"I can't believe we're getting shoved aside again," Vista grumbled.

Cognit raised his eyebrows. "Wait, you thought we were serious about that?"

I grinned at him. "IthoughtI saw you crossing your fingers."

"Wait, we're disobeying orders?" Vista asked, shocked.

I stared at her. "Yes."

"Cool," she said, eyes gleaming.

--

Three house fires, two bank robberies and an orphan up an elm tree later, her eyes weren't quite as bright.

"I'm exhausted," Vista groaned, leaning against the brick wall. I'd done as much of the heavy lifting as could be delegated, but Vista and Cognit were invaluable aids to rapid reaction forces, and it was taking its toll.

"How many people has this guy controlled?" Cognit demanded, scowling. He was holding up better than Vista, he was holding himself rather oddly. "We've been trooping all over the city!"

It also meant this wasn't Regent, who needed time and effort to create minions. Small favors.

"Going to guess either a vocal or optical element to his powers," I mused, rubbing my chin. "Something quick and relatively easy to pass off as normal in public."

"I still think its bull-" Cognit glanced at Vista, "-crap that he can evenfindthis many people. It's like,1 AM- what's he doing knocking on doors?!"

Vista scowled at him. "I'mnota child. You curse in front ofhimall the time, and he's the same age as I am!"

I ignored her with practiced ease. "You wrote down each person's information, right?"

Cognit nodded. "Of course."

"Think you could get me the others - the ones we didn't take personally? I have an idea."

"Maybe. Armsmaster will have it, so it'll be tough but doable." Cognit said. "What idea-"

A loud siren interrupted our strategizing as a sports car sped past, followed by a lone police car. Vista sighed, and began to warp space.

Neat - that fit my list.

Four car chases, three house fires, two bank robberies and a –

"What are you humming?" Cognit asked, frowning at me.

". . . Nothing."

--

Cognit and Vista retired to bed, but I didn't need to sleep, so I continued through the night. Though the induced crime stopped after a few hours, regular crime was catching on that the cops weren't exactly on their A-game.

Super hearing and super speed served me in good stead here. My Superman impression needed flight to really be effective, but as long as I avoided the sound barrier –

"Sovereign!" My radio crackled to life with Hannah's voice.

"Sovereign here," I said, stepping away from the prone form of a would-be mugger. I made an apologetic 'shoo' gesture to the victim; he nodded his thanks and fled.

"Accident on the ferry. School bus driver went berserk."

"School's supposed to beout!" I hissed, surroundings already blurring as I snapped into an impromptu parabolic flight.

"It's a Youth Group trip. They're trying to evacuate them out the back, but the bus is at an angle." Even with enhanced hearing, I could barely hear her over the sound of the wind. "Reinforcements are coming, but you're closest – hurry!"

"Don't have to tell me twice!" I yelled, leaping off a roof. There was sort of an art form to this type of movement, a matter of timing that helped preserve your forward momentum. There were actually classes on it at the Rig – Brute Parkour 101.

It was easier when I got to the water. Without any visual obstructions or fragile buildings to run into (or run by too fast) my movement tripled.

The ferry –which I helped get running damn it– was one of those larger ones that cars drove onboard, to be let off at the other side of the Bay. It wasn't big enough to have two decks, but it had cost a pretty penny anyways. Since it swung around the Rig, it was pretty popular among cape tourists on a budget, especially if they were just passing through town.

I saw the problem immediately. Really, it would have been hard to overlook the distinctive yellow-orange color of a school bus hanging over the side of a boat.

The bus had gone over the railing and tipped before being wedged, luckily keeping the still surging back tires off the ferry. If the words 'precarious' had a picture definition, it would have that bus as a centerpiece. I could hear cries and shouts from within whenever it shifted, so there were still people inside. One of the bystanders was desperately trying to get his truck around the other cars, possibly to hook up a tow cable, but against mass and leverage like that there was little he could do.

Enter Sovereign.

I leapt once more, and this time I stuck the landing. The bus took the tiny tremor that caused as a good sign to give way, but I wasn't having any of that. I grabbed the end and stopped it from moving.

Then, I ran into a problem.

See, it didn't matter that eight tons were pulling one way and a hundred and fifty pounds were pulling the other – my powers laughed at that. The thing was, there was only so much space to revolve the thing – if I pulled straight backwards, I was liable to ruin the ferry, and since I helped fund the thing I was alittleleery of that.

I pondered for a moment, moving the thing experimentally, then let out a frustrated growl and put my other hand underneath the chassis. Steel crunched as I dug my fingers in, creating an impromptu gripping point. Right hand goesdown, left hand goesup-

The nose of the bus rose smoothly, impossibly into the air, suspended by its bumper and my precarious handhold. There were loud gasps from the peanut gallery followed by distinctive shutter sounds, but I ignored them in favor of taking a few careful steps back, swinging the bus around slowly to avoid distressing the passengers - or squashing the cars. I'm pretty sure that would be bad.

Before I sat it down, I shattered the back axle, preventing the still spinning tires from digging their way into my nice, shiny ferry deck.

The back door was warped shut, so I punched my hand through the steel frame and pulled it off.

"Please disembark in an orderly fashion," I growled.

Bedraggled preteens stared out at me for a moment, then stampeded past, clamoring excitedly. The last off was the teacher, who was older but still looked like she'd been run through a washing machine. Understandable – the front end of the bushadgone into the water.

"Bless you, bless you child," she beamed at me, enfolding me in anincrediblyawkward hug. "You're doing Scion's work."

I stared at her, then the bus.

Yup – First Church of Scion. Goody.

"Just my job," I told her politely, trying to ignore the camera flashes. "The driver – is he still in there?"

She nodded vigorously. "Larry, yes. We couldn't pry him away from the wheel – he was like an animal, scratching and biting!"

I sighed and stepped forward into the bus. "I'll handle it. Larry? Are you in here?"

Incoherent mumbling – lots of 'won't' and 'promised.'

"I need a vacation," I lamented, stepping forward. "Anothervacation. Larry?"

Larry the bus driver was still pressing the pedal down, hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel, knuckles straining against whitened skin. The engine was roaring futilely, but he didn't seem to notice. His manic eyes seemed to flit around at random.

All humor fled.

"Alright then Larry," I said, stepping forward. "Let's get you out of that chair, huh?"

"You!" he yelled, voice high with fright. "You've come to take me away, just like he said!"

"Who?" I asked, voice level. "Who told you that, Larry?"

"The man – the man on the phone. He said they were coming for me, that they were going to take me away." His eyes danced from side to side, looking for unseen assailants. "I won't let them take me – I won't!"

"Larry," I said, putting my hands on either side of his face. His eyes locked on mine. "No one is coming for you."

"But – but the man-" he protested, gesturing to the phone at his feet. It was dark - probably shorted out from getting dunked in bay water.

"The man was lying."

"He – he wouldn't."

"He would."

"But – but then I-" Some shred of sanity returned to his eyes. "Oh God, what did I do?"

"There you go," I told him, smiling. "You were mastered, Larry – you had no choice, and you broke out of it. I mean, if you were really trying, you would have gone right over the side, right?"

"I- I would have?"

"Yup." A little white lie wouldn't hurt here. "You've got some strong willpower, Larry. Still, if you'll get off the bus, the PRT are coming and they'll want to debrief you."

Larry nodded quickly, all but falling over himself to leave. After he was gone, I knelt down on the wet floor and picked up the forgotten phone.

"So," I mused, staring at the blank screen, "what secrets doyouhold?"