Chapter 2
Seth Miranda was a low-level hood. High-school dropout who always seemed to have a large supply of secondhand electronics for sale. Joe had always considered him pretty harmless as scum of the earth went. Until this morning.
He was never hard to track down but Joe waited to actually approach him until he made the mistake of trying to duck away from his pursuit. Straight into an empty, dead-end alley. Perfect.
A local guy should have known better.
Nodding and smiling bitterly, Joe followed, catching up, from the look on Seth's face, just as the guy realized he was completely hemmed in.
"You fence shit I can't prove isn't yours, there's not a lot I can do about that," Joe admitted, shrugging. "You rough up a kid who doesn't have recourse to the legal system, and we suddenly have a problem, Seth." He folded his arms over his chest. "You don't give me what I want and I'm comfortable putting a couple of bullets in each kneecap and letting that girl's family know where you live."
Seth stared at him with wide eyes. "That thing was chick?"
"Not just a 'chick', Seth. A kid. Thirteen years old," Joe clarified for him, calmly screwing a silencer onto the barrel of his gun as he spoke. "May never walk again, coincidentally."
Now Seth just looked ready to be sick.
"Funny thing about actions, Seth. They tend to have consequences. You nearly killed an innocent child yesterday. Bet it made you feel like a big man, too."
"I didn't know that thing was a kid!" he protested. "I was scared! My daughter lives on that block."
"Christy was someone's daughter, too, Seth. I met her parents so I'm not feeling particularly sympathetic right now."
He shook his head and smiled dangerously, ignoring the fact that he was engaging in behavior that cops could get away with on TV but never in real life. Anyone found out about this and it was going to cost him more than his job. He could end up in prison over shit like this and former homicide cops didn't usually do well in prison.
His smile probably reflected some of the bitter irony he was feeling. He was over all kinds of lines, playing for keeps, and he wanted this punk-ass kid to know exactly was the stakes were.
"Now, I am going to ask you some questions, Seth, and you're going to answer me honestly and completely. Understood?"
A frantic nod.
"Good. Let's get started…"
0101010
"Well, everyone I've talked to swears blind it's not some kind of organized conspiracy against the abnormal community," Joe assured them.
"Which would be more comforting if we didn't know that that's exactly what it is," Grayson sighed. "But it is good to know that they're not organizing on street-level yet."
Magnus nodded, expression thoughtful. Will just looked relieved.
"And you're certain they were being honest?" Magnus asked, watching him thoughtfully.
"Well, since Amanda's here, I'll spare you the kind of details that would lead to an IA hissy-fit, but it's safe to say that they were… pretty well motivated to tell me the truth."
"Shit," Grayson muttered, looking like a woman who realized she had just let herself in for a butt-load of paperwork. "Just tell me you didn't actually lay hands on anyone?"
Joe shook his head. "I'm crazy, not stupid."
"Well, that's something, at least."
"And Henry got all the websites down," Will said. "They'll probably pop up again in a few hours somewhere else, but we've got about a hundred people worldwide keeping their eyes open for similar ones. The minute people start trying to Out abnormals, there's going to be a small army of White Hats on their asses."
Grayson nodded, climbing to her feet. "Keep me updated. I'll be downstairs."
Downstairs? Joe blinked but did not comment.
"Of course," Magnus agreed. "Under the circumstances, I can hardly blame you."
"Thank you for everything, Helen," she answered. "Doctor Zimmerman. Joe." She nodded to each in turn before leaving the room.
Joe glanced at Will. "At the risk of sounding like a complete outsider, 'White Hats'?"
"Sorry. Too much time with Henry lately," Will told him with a sheepish smile. "A White Hat is an ethical hacker."
"An ethical hacker?" Joe repeated dubiously.
"A specialization in which Henry is NSA-certified," Magnus told him. "Ethical hackers break into the computer systems of companies and government for the express purpose of finding bugs and backdoors that allow malicious hackers access. Once you know about them, you can fix them before anyone else realizes they're there and exploits them for malicious ends."
"Oh. Well, I'm going to go see if I can get anything else from the victims," Joe lied.
"Okay, Joe," Will answered. "Keep me updated."
"You've got it. Helen."
She smiled absently at him, a look that didn't reach her eyes. "Good day, Joe. Thank you for everything. Will, did you get John's report?"
"Yeah, and I'm inclined to agree with him about the Gobi facility from what I've seen," Will was answering as Joe left the office.
Joe wasn't sure what a Chinese desert had to do with anything and he was less sure he cared. What did a Police Commissioner need in an infirmary designed to treat abnormals? He followed the sound of her flats on the marble floor from a safe distance. If she knew she was being followed, she gave no indication, didn't try to change direction or shake him off. In fact, she walked like a woman in a trance, as if lost in her own world.
She passed through the infirmary proper into what Will had told him in his initial tour of the Sanctuary was the ICU. Joe hesitated for a moment before following.
"It's okay, Kev. Doc Helen will take good care of you, just like she always has," Grayson was saying.
He ducked in, expecting to find Commissioner Grayson with a friend or lover. Instead, the woman was bent over the bed of a boy of perhaps ten, his features leonine. Her head shot up, expression momentarily defensive. Then she shrugged and returned her attention to the unconscious boy's face.
"My son, Kevin."
Jesus…
Everyone in the department knew she had a kid. Mentally ill or something and kept from public view according to rumor. Most of her neighbors didn't even know the boy existed. All kinds of nasty stories circulated about the lengths she went through to keep him secret from the world at large. They were behind most of her reputation as a cold-ass bitch…
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize."
"Like the abnormals, Joe, I know what it means to have the world at large assume you're something you're not." She bent and pressed her lips to the boy's forehead. "Mama will be back tonight, sweetheart," she whispered. "And Daddy says he'll drop in after work, too." Then she squared her shoulders and crossed the room to Joe. "I love my son, Detective. Always have; always will. And I'll never be anything but proud of him."
Joe glanced past her to the boy who, in spite of the predatory features, looked young and vulnerable and precious the way only a small child could.
"His father was an abnormal?"
She shook her head. "David and I are both normal humans. But, in my first trimester, on an investigation, I was unwittingly exposed to a teratological agent. Kevin started to mutate rather rapidly. I would have lost the pregnancy, but a sympathetic OB sent me Helen's way. He'll never look like one of us," she added, turning and kissing her son again, "but he's still a blessing."
"And he was one of the ones the website you mentioned Outted?"
God, no wonder she'd been worried the violence was organized. The son of a Police Commissioner was, as examples went, a huge one.
"Mmm," she agreed, running her fingers though the boy's mane-like tangle. "It can only have been a past babysitter. The Sanctuary screens its associates carefully, of course, and I always used babysitters recommended by them. But even those who know and understand sometimes change their minds. And, when they do, atrocities like this are allowed to occur."
"Is he going to make it?"
"Don't know yet." She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. "He's got some brain-trauma."
He took a step towards her. "Amanda, I'm sorry."
She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. Personal involvement shouldn't impact your approach to the case at hand."
"Shouldn't but always does," he countered.
"He's my son, but you didn't even know he existed five minutes ago," she told him. "Don't let it get to you that this time it was a cop's kid. Just do what you always do and close the damned case."
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "You've got it. Total detachment, Amanda." He turned to go.
"Joe?"
"Yeah?"
"If your investigation into these crimes points you to the people who did this to my son, I do not want to know about it."
He frowned at her.
"Life in a maximum security prison would not be pleasant for a former Commissioner of Police," she explained simply, stepping past him and striding from the infirmary.
Joe stared after her, shaking his head. If it had been his kid, he'd have wanted blood, too. He moved closer to the bed, staring down at the unconscious boy. He didn't appear remotely human but, unlike the other victims Joe had seen, he didn't look remotely dangerous or intimidating, either. The other attacks might have been about fear, but this one had been about hate, plain and simple.
"Different from the other victims," Will said from the door, echoing Joe's thoughts.
"You weren't going to tell me."
"Members of the Sanctuary don't go around Outing abnormals. If Amanda had wanted you to know, you would have known."
"Got other secrets from me?"
"Of course we do, Joe." Will shrugged.
"What's going down in the Gobi?"
"The Cabal's version of Gitmo. Our people think that, if we're going to find Ashley, we're going to find her there."
"Ah." He nodded. "Good luck with that."
"Thanks, man. We're going to need every ounce."
"Anything I can do to help?"
"I think we've compromised you enough already, Joe," Will answered with a sigh, absently rubbing the back of his neck. "Besides, right now, these victims need to know the cops are in their corner, especially if those cops are typicals. This could still deteriorate into a Race War so the appearance of sympathy by the Establishment for the victims is vital."
"It's more than an appearance, Will. I broke the law today, went against every code I swore to live by. If that doesn't say enough about where my sympathies lie…"
"Your sympathies and the Commissioner's aren't in question, Joe. Not to me or Magnus. But what's important is how the victims perceive your involvement, intention, motives, and attitudes. And which of their impressions they convey back to the rest of the abnormal community."
"Point taken," Joe answered, nodding. "But if you do need anything…"
"I appreciate that, Joe," Will assured him.
"Oh, William, there you are," a tall, bald man with a scar on his face said, approaching them. He was lanky, powerful-looking, but he also looked tired and somehow diminished. "You got my report?"
"Yeah, Druitt, and I was going to come to your office to discuss it in a minute, but I needed to take care of one thing down here first."
He nodded and regarded Joe searchingly. "Who's your friend, William?"
"Detective Joe Kavanaugh. Joe, this is John Druitt, an old friend of Magnus'."
The bald man smiled and gave Joe a half-bow. "I've heard all about you, Detective, and I must say it's always a pleasure to meet someone who's worked so hard to make Helen's life easier."
He offered his hand, which Joe shook readily, startled by the strength of his grip.
"Good to meet you, Mr. Druitt."
"Please, call me John. Only young William here insists on standing on formality," he told Joe with a tolerant grin in the shrink's direction. "And, on that note, I'm afraid I must steal him away from you. I have plans for the boy."
Druitt's smile was almost a leer and Will shifted uneasily in response to it, which made Joe wonder. To the best of Joe's knowledge, Will dated women exclusively, but he'd never batted an eyelash when men flirted with him, which wasn't entirely uncommon. His looks were boyish and some men liked that. Squirming because another man was leering at him implied something else entirely and, from the look on Will's face and the way Druitt immediately backed down with a mumbled apology, that 'something' wasn't remotely pleasant.
"We really do have a great deal to discuss, William," Druitt informed him quietly. "I'd very much like to see my daughter again. I have a lot of lost time to make up for."
Will nodded, slipping seamlessly back into calm professionalism.
"Joe, you have my number if you need anything at all or have any questions. I'm your contact, not Magnus. If you can't reach me…" He trailed off, hesitating.
"If William is unavailable, you can contact me, Detective," Druitt informed him, handing him a business card that was blank except for two phone numbers. "Unlike William, I do not have patients and I do not require much sleep. If I don't answer either of those numbers within half an hour of you calling them, the odds are good that I'm dead."
"Cheerful," Joe muttered, pocketing the card. "Thanks, man."
"My pleasure. Be in touch if you require anything at all." He inclined his head to Joe, then glanced down at Will. "William?"
"Yeah, Druitt, let's go. See you around, Joe."
