"Rachel Lindt, AKA Hellhound. This interview is being recorded. Interviewing officer is Battery, of Protectorate East North East. Before I ask any questions, do you have anything to say?"
"Fuck you."
Armsmaster looked at the four screens in front of him. Four interrogation rooms. Four Undersiders. Four interrogators. The screens were encoded with his lie detection software, the members of his team serving as interviewers. Piggot sat by him, watching the screens.
Velocity was interviewing Grue. Velocity didn't speak of it much, but most of his Protectorate salary went to his siblings, with whom he had a large dinner once a week. He would be able to connect to someone whose family seemed to be a major element in why he went into crime.
"So tell me, do you prefer Brian, or Grue?" Velocity asked the man in front of him.
"Grue, right now," he said. They'd let him keep his helmet on for the interview. Velocity understood the reasoning behind that choice, but it did make things difficult. Grue's body language suggested nervousness, but without looking him in the eye, he wouldn't be able to tell.
"So, Grue, I've gotta ask. You guys tried robbing a bank, in the middle of the day, with what appeared to be a newcomer to the cape scene… why?"
Miss Militia, with her troubled childhood, was ideal for Regent. She had an almost instinctual understanding of broken people, and growing up in Nikos Vasil's home had probably left Jean Paul with scars of his own.
"Your family's hunting for you, you know?" Miss Militia said.
"What?" The color blanched out of Jean Paul Vasil's face.
"Your father's been smart. He didn't fully advertise it, but Dragon recently raided a compound of his. He's upset about both you and your sister disappearing."
"Which sister?" Jean Paul asked. He pushed away from the table, only to be stopped by his handcuffs, tied to the table.
"You don't know?"
"Of course I fucking don't!" He shouted, then put his face in his hands and took a deep breath. "Sorry."
"The sorry was a lie," Armsmaster said in her earpiece. "But he's honest about not knowing."
"It's fine," Miss Militia said. "So, let's talk about how we can help you."
Battery interviewed Hellhound. Originally, Armsmaster had wanted Assault for this, but his status as probationary, and his lack of training in this area, made him a bad choice. Still, he'd hoped some of the man's charm had rubbed off on his wife. It seemed like the best choice, especially for someone as… reticent as Rachel Lindt proved to be.
"What do you prefer I call you? Hellhound or Rachel?" Battery asked.
"Bitch."
"Excuse me?"
"Bitch. Don't give me your heroic bullshit names. It's not Hellhound. It's Bitch." Rachel Lindt practically spat out the word, as if daring her to say something about it.
"Fine then. Bitch, I'd like to talk about your options," Battery said.
"Not telling you a fucking thing until I see my dogs."
Battery ruffled her hair, a sign to Armsmaster. He dutifully responded in her ear. "True, unfortunately. Her dogs are in Cell 9 right now, tranquilized, with dog food and water for when they wake up. Use the south entrance if you're taking her, please. Cell 15 is holding Whirlygig."
"Then let's go see them," Battery said. "But first, let me tell you the offer."
Tattletale was going to be a difficult case, no matter what. Thinkers often were, but this one claimed she could read minds. Dauntless had been a detective before he triggered. That was what Armsmaster told himself about the choice, anyway. He wouldn't deliberately send the man the higher ups were hoping would surpass him against a mind reader in the hopes she would spill something damaging. That would be petty.
"So, Sarah Livsey. Your parents are worried for you, you know? Never stopped looking for you," Dauntless said.
"That's what you've got on me? My parents?" Tattletale asked. She smiled, not a hint of friendliness in her voice. "You're going to need to do better than that, Jason."
Dauntless laughed. "We're doing the Hannibal Lecter thing? Great. I always thought I looked like Jodie Foster. Are you going to mimic my accent next?"
"Why should I talk to you?" Grue asked.
"It's simple," Velocity said. "You really only have the two options. The first? Grue goes on trial. We let your family know that Grue is actually their son and their brother. Your mother takes advantage of it, and has ammunition against you in your custody struggle for your sister. You might get broken out at this point, but the damage is done. Whether you go to prison or not, you've lost something that, as far as we can tell, is important."
Grue's hands were clenched together at this point, his head leaning on them. The next words were almost mumbled. "The second?"
"Join the Protectorate. Probationary, of course," Velocity said. Grue looked up at him.
"What? I mean… how?"
"You never considered it as an option, did you?" Velocity asked. Grue was larger than him, and in full leather armor and a helmet in the shape of a skull, but at that point, he looked like nothing more than a lost child. "As a probationary hero, you'll be limited in your interactions with criminals, and probably be moved somewhere else. A year of junior membership, with a salary of around 80 thousand a year, and then around 110 thousand once you're not a junior member any more. You can get on-site accommodation, though in your case I think you'd need your own apartment, seeing as we get our own lawyers, in the interest of protecting our identities. They'll be helpful in your custody battle."
"Wha-what're the downsides?" Grue asked. Velocity could have sworn he heard a note of hope in his voice.
"Well, as a Protectorate hero, you're going to have a very busy job. Also, due to probation, you'll be limited in your interaction with villains, meaning you'd be restricted to more PR things than most Protectorate heroes have to deal with. You'll undergo an identity change, meaning your costume and cape name will be changed, and we'll probably move you to a different city. You don't have much of a reputation in Brockton Bay but we like to be thorough about this sort of thing. New York might be a good fit. I can't make any promises, though. You'll have a say in this, but I couldn't begin to guess how much of one. And right now, you'll have to tell us everything. About the Undersiders. About the Case 53 you brought to the bank."
Grue removed his helmet. "Show me the papers and I'll tell you everything."
"So, you'll move me to the Dallas Wards, where I do four years of mandatory being nice at people for my crimes, then I'm free?" Jean Paul asked.
"Parole, but essentially yes," Miss Militia said. "You could stay in the Protectorate as well."
"No big marketing pushes. I don't want to become famous. If I do become famous, I get moved somewhere."
"Fine."
"Fuck… Then sure. Could you do me one favor, though?"
"What?"
He removed his mask and rubbed his temples. "Call me Alec. I want it written on something legal. Alec… Washington."
"Nice to meet you, Alec."
"We can let you touch them, but there are containment foam nozzles and knockout gas in the room, which we will have to activate if you use your power on them," Battery warned Rachel.
"Open the door," she said. Battery gave a thumbs up to the camera, and Armsmaster remotely opened the sliding glass door of the cell. Rachel rushed in, checking on the one-eyed terrier first, then the German shepherd and the rottweiler. She inspected them, opening their mouths, listening to their chests.
"Armsmaster's tranquilizers are expected to stop in a half an hour. Did you understand what I'm offering?"
"Be a fucking goody two shoes. Join the Wards. Smile for the cameras, go to school, do the happy horseshit you heroes love," Rachel said, "And me and my dogs get a home? I get to keep them?"
"Yes," Battery said.
"Fine."
"Don't make me laugh," Tattletale said. "Make a better offer."
"You want a better offer? I've got a great one for you," Dauntless said. "Me and you leave this room, and we go to the roof. I fly you to a very public place, shake your hand, say thank you for your information, and leave. I'm sure you'll have a very pleasant experience afterwards."
"Wait, are you serious?" Tattletale asked.
"Dead serious."
"No, I mean are you seriously bluffing me? I can read your mind, Jason. I know all of your secrets. I know Armsmaster hates you, and you hate him. I know Piggot hates both of you. They were both disappointed that blow you took today didn't do more damage."
He knew it was true, but still… Dauntless tapped his bracer. "The mind reading was the only lie," Armsmaster gritted out in his ear.
"Okay, so what do you expect to happen here, Sarah?" Dauntless asked. "Honestly, how is this going to play out in your favor? You're doing a pretty good job burning bridges, ones we're trying to extend for you."
"Oh lordy, thank you for being here to save such a frail villainess such as I! My heart's a flutter! Your fucking Protectorate. You couldn't capture us alone. You do nothing while the Empire makes this city a living hell for everything not white, and the ABB recruits unabated from schools. You want me to have a bridge with the fucking Protectorate?"
"Your southern accent is terrible. You really shouldn't try the Lecter thing." Despite himself, Dauntless was smiling. "We're trying to make things better. What are you doing?"
"So is your attempt at getting me to join you. Let me guess, you guys have recruited… Grue? Maybe?" Tattletale wasn't smiling any more. "Let's face it, you've got nothing on me. You've got me on camera as a victim in a bank robbery by the Undersiders. I was trying to be a heroine, and help them! But the Protectorate is refusing to help!"
"The last four statements were lies," Armsmaster said in his earpiece.
"She likes to talk. See if you can get her to talk about herself," Piggot said.
"Do you have anyone who cares about you, Sarah? Anyone at all?" Dauntless asked.
"Grue flipped. As did Hijack," Piggot said.
"Do you?" Tattletale said. "Because let me tell you what I see from you. I see someone who wakes up in the morning in an empty apartment and goes to work. You work six days a week for a boss you hate, who hates you, in an organization that sees you as a great new shiny toy, and then you come back to an empty apartment. Sometimes you call your parents, but let's face it, you were never that close, and since you have powers that's just another gap in your life. Does anyone like you? When was the last time someone called you Jason?"
"Hellhound flipped," Piggot said. Dauntless looked at Tattletale. He admired her control, and poise. She wasn't aware of how brittle she was. Holding it all together, pretending to have all the answers. Probably telling herself that if she did, he would believe it too. She'd gotten close to the truth. Not exact, but close. A part of him pitied her. He took a deep breath.
"Your team mates have all turned on you," he said. For a brief second, a number of different expressions flitted across her face – shock, anger, sadness… was that a laugh? Then stone-faced again, letting the seconds pass. He realized he hadn't heard the clock's ticking until then. "Can you really read minds?"
"Fuck you."
"Can we help you, Sarah?"
"Take your fucking spear and shove it up your fucking ass."
"Can we-"
"I want a lawyer. Get out, don't come back until I've got a lawyer."
"Leave her be," Piggot said. "Come to the control room."
The light above the door turned green. It pushed open easily. Dauntless walked to the control room. It was a small room – between Armsmaster, Piggot, and the computers, there was barely enough room for him to close the door behind himself.
"To begin, I'd like to say that if either of you have any complaints about my conduct and feel it is biased against you, I am willing to talk, and both of you may at any time contact the Chief Director if you are uncomfortable with talking to me, in accordance with the complaint protocols which I am sure you know," Piggot said.
"Acknowledged," Armsmaster said.
"Of course," Dauntless echoed, half a second later.
"Dauntless, this was not a failure. Tattletale knowing your name means she has a source in the PRT. This explains how hard the Undersiders have been to capture so far. I wasn't sure if she would play ball, but I suspect there is more to the Undersiders than the four members we have arrested. Probably a commander figure. I will make sure to instruct Velocity, Battery, and Miss Militia to ask about this figure." Piggot paused, and put a meaty hand on Dauntless's shoulder plate. "If you want help moving, we have resources for it. We can quickly find you a buyer for your apartment, and a new one for a similar price, and have you on base until then. I don't want you going home to an apartment you're worried about entering."
"Armsmaster, if I die, please frame Tattletale," Dauntless said, completely stone-faced.
"Will do." Armsmaster's expression mirrored his own.
"Not worried, Director."
"Very funny. I mean it, Dauntless."
"Thank you, Director. But I'm not worried," Dauntless said. A notion passed through his mind. "Just in case, though, could I get a gun permit?"
She stared at him. "Fine. I'll have it waiting at the entrance, along with a Glock. Does that work for you?"
"Great."
"Anything else?" Piggot asked them. Both Dauntless and Armsmaster shook their heads. "Thank you both for your excellent work today. Pass it along to Miss Militia, Battery, and Velocity as well. Armsmaster, we will discuss placement and possible exchange members for Hijack, Hellhound, and Grue later."
She left walked out of the room. Armsmaster moved to follow her. Dauntless spoke up. "Wait a sec, Colin."
"Yes?"
"I just want to say. I know we never spoke about it, but since Tattletale brought it up, I need to."
"What?" Armsmaster asked him.
"You come at the king, you'd best not miss." They stared at each other for a few seconds.
"Understood."
"Have a nice day, then," Dauntless said. "I'm headed to the locker room. I've got a date soon."
She was ignoring the rain, leaning on the fence. Anyone else standing there, soaked to the bone, staring out into the sea, would have seemed lonely. Her eyes closed, a slight smile on her face, she seemed happy.
"Hey," Jason told her, handing her one of the cups of coffee he was holding. "I'm Jason Todd. You never did tell me your name."
"Hi, Jason," she said, her smile widening. "I'm Kara Smith. Would you like to get out of the rain?"
