Interlude: Tattletale
Lisa sighed quietly through her nostrils, sitting at the back of an E-88 car, riding to the area near the Med Hall building in downtown. The only place the E-88 was designating as grounds to protect. It was far enough away from their clinic and their 'officially' held territory for their liking, and close enough to give the drop off guys in the front seats a sense of security.
She didn't care. She just wanted to get away from the damn Nazi's so she could make phone calls in peace. With them looking over her shoulder she couldn't contact Taylor, or almost anyone else. She was, by and large, blind. And the cacophony of sirens, gunfire, helicopters, and Heroes and Villains rushing across the whole city only added to the rapidly rising anxiety she felt in her gut. The last call she'd managed to safely sneak through the E-88 was as she lay on a medical bed, waiting for the Empire's shit doctor to come in and look her over, a hasty call to Miss Militia's personal cell phone.
She hoped the woman listened to her… took the chance to take Coil out. That was the last escape route she knew about and if he used that one and Militia wasn't there...
Coil. All they had to do was take down Coil. Small, quick hits with their parahumans to his holdings and bases.
How in the goddamn fuck did that translate to Kaiser and Lung as 'Burn everything to the ground?'
…
He had to be dead… after all of this, after everything, for him to escape… to survive… she couldn't bear the thought of it.
That bastard didn't deserve to live.
The car came to a stop and the doors unlocked.
"Am I good to go?" She asked the driver to make sure. The last thing she needed now was for Kaiser to think her an enemy.
"Yes. Your information has been helpful in reaching Coil's bases and hideouts. Kaiser extends his gratitude." The brown haired woman spoke. "If you need anything he might decide the debt is not settled as of yet, providing the day proves fruitful."
Translation. If he managed to gobble up all of Coils holdings and bases, he might be happy enough to work with a Thinker again before he demanded she 'join the cause' for his continued help.
She could imagine the image he had of her. Alone, vulnerable. No Grue, no Regent, no Bitch.
Just little Tattletale.
Coil thought the same.
"Duly noted. Thanks." She opened the door and stepped out. The car pulled away a second later with the grind of rubber on asphalt. She waited until it was well out of sight before she crossed the street and walked two or three blocks.
She pulled out her phone and delivered a text.
Pick me up. I'm over by the Town Center south of town. I'll be by the guitar store in the back.
Send. She began to walk a bit faster, but that limp still hampered her.
This is what she gets for asking Brian to hit her with a wooden broomstick as hard as he could over her stretched out hip.
It was going to bruise… badly. The swelling had gone down for now but...
She took to the back alleys, hiding from whatever packs of Nazi's might be around.
She winced as her leg throbbed, deciding this particularly grimy spot was as good as the next particularly grimy spot, she sat herself down, leaning against a wall, her leg stretched out.
She pulled out her phone. Texting Taylor
'Are you okay?'
She closes the phone… and the answer comes to her.
No… you're not are you?
It has been a month… a month since the prison.
She hadn't wanted to… she hadn't wanted to push her… to… break her.
But she had.
It was systemic. Symetrical. Building block by building block she took all the things Taylor cherished… everything she was leaning on, building herself on, and perverted them… mutilated them.
Her power fed her everything, showed her every detail, she'd seen every micro-expression, heard every tiny inflection as Taylor cried and pleaded… begged her to stop.
Her friends in the Wards, her past life, the hell she'd endured, and the release she'd found from it.
The love she held for the new friends she'd made and the care those people genuinely held for her.
Used those things that she so cherished, as tools to help her rip Taylor to pieces.
She stopped. She remembered stopping. She did. Then she remembered the cold steel of a gun-barrel pressed to the back of her head and Coil's seething voice at her ear.
And her power told her he'd do it. He wasn't playing. This wasn't something he would negotiate on. The man had used too many resources, too many cards in his deck to ever even consider letting her back out. It was with the use of his own clearance codes and the slew of inside knowledge that he offered her and the others to even break into the prison that eventually allowed her to deduce his real identity as Thomas Calvert.
If he was willing to paint a neon sign over his head in his desperation, she knew what was in store for her if she didn't open her mouth and do what she did best, he was more than willing to pull that trigger.
So she did.
She continued.
What crawled out of the ensuing firestorm was a product purely of her efforts. A girl seething with anger and rage, lashing out at everything that she could reach, who didn't trust anyone, who didn't care anymore about what happened to her.
A girl who just wanted to crawl inside of a dark pit and die.
She'd almost succeeded.
Fifteen minutes.
That's the time she had left before Faultline and Labyrinth would have been smuggling themselves out of the Bay.
If she would have realized just fifteen minutes later that she could not reach Taylor through any… normal means and made that phone call… Taylor might still be down there. Might still be in that place that held only the stillness of death… and whatever it was that was… keeping her there.
She opened her eyes at the horrible memory.
Something had been there with Taylor. Something that scared her. Told her to leave. It was a primal fear, like an instinct. A little voice in the back of her head that just said:
'Run.'
She didn't know if it was a projection of Taylor's subconscious… some kind of split personality or a result of her power but whatever it was it was terrifying…
And it was gaining influence.
Taylor's mind was cracking, badly.
She thought it had just been her immediate and innate anger after having just woken up after the horrible ordeal at the prison. But her actions were becoming more and more erratic, the inflections in her voice more and more alien, unhinged. Her voice said one thing as her mind thought three others. One minute she could be cautious, the next outright aggressive, and the other dismissive.
To be honest, if she had a choice she would have already called the PRT weeks ago if she didn't think that the second Taylor walked within ten blocks of that building Coil would have his spies all over her and would do something to force her into another mental breakdown to set off yet another bomb to finish what the riot had only halfway done halfway.
He had to die. There was just no way around that. But how to kill someone that supposedly, Could not fail?
So she stacked the deck. Hedged her bets. There was a limit to his power. There had to be. Elsewise he wouldn't need her and he wouldn't need Dinah. He'd already rule the bay if he genuinely Could not fail.
So she hedged her bet on setting the stage for the one thing he'd never actively engaged in.
Open conflict. Coil liked hit and run tactics, small things that let him keep control. And that was his limitation.
Throw enough crap at him at once and he would fail.
Kaiser. Lung. Their respective little armies.
That had to be enough.
Tricking them had been somewhat simple. The wounds were inflicted by Grue earlier, Coil's 'dead agent' that had 'attacked her,' someone found dead in an apartment she'd never even set foot inside of. Just found the case listening to the police scanner earlier in the day.
Its not as if the Empire would actually check and walk inside the building full of police tape and crime scene cops before deciding to off Coil. He was already in bad graces with the whole shitstorm that came down on everyone's heads in the form of Legend, and because of the numerous E-88 and ABB prisoners that wound up dead or wounded at the Prison riot.
All they needed was a pretense, she gave them one on a silver platter.
Victor had been the only obstacle there. When she saw him at the Bar she'd been worried, but had immediately decided to stand by the door. That way he could never, ever keep an eye on both her and Coil at the same time. Between her injuries, the raw adrenalin she'd injected into her system beforehand to give her the strength and endurance she needed to run the four blocks or so to get to the Bar from where she and Grue had been waiting, the exertion from the running itself, the genuine anger at Coil, it was probably a bit harder to read her body language and micro-expressions than Coil's who looked all but ready to shoot her in the face.
She winced as a car pulled into the alley, its headlights shining into her eyes.
The door opened, she couldn't see the driver, but the tread of his walk, the sound of his boots. It was enough for her to extrapolate that it really was Brian rather than some surprise.
"You okay?" He asked. He wasn't in costume. Good.
"I'll live." She limped over to the passenger door and rode shotgun after being helped in by Brian. He got into the car.
Then they sat there.
"Did you plan all of this…" He said after a moment. "Is this really what you wanted?" his tone was sharp.
She shook her head, biting at her lip "I thought Lung and Kaiser would go straight after Coil and all his bases. I didn't think they'd go to these extremes." She replied, leaning against the window.
He took a deep deep breath through his nose. Angry. Conflicted. He kept his silence before placing the car in reverse with a deliberate slowness.
He looked like he was about to pull out before he stopped. "This is fucked up Lisa…"
"I know." She admitted. Not gloating… not dismissing, just… agreeing.
He shook his head, a slew of emotions passing through him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She didn't answer. There was nothing she could say that would make it better.
Couldn't let you know. Couldn't risk it. Couldn't trust that you'd be able to keep it a secret. Couldn't know if you'd go along with it. If you'd try to stop me.
What of those things could she possibly say that would make this 'better.'
"I'm sorry… but its done now."
"And Rachel? Alec? Are they just done too?"
"I never intended for them to get caught."
"But they did Lisa… they did get caught. And the city is being destroyed. You fucked up! This whole situation is fucked up and it's all on you!
She whirled on him all grit teeth and anger "It. Is. All. On. Me. Brian! You couldn't take down Coil! Not you! Not Bitch! Not Alec. Not the fucking PRT. No one. Me! Yeah sure, I fucked up but goddamnit you tell me who else I could turn to!? Who could I have gone to ask 'Hey I've got a problem, think you can help!?' Huh? Come on, tell me who had the magic bullet for my problems. Don't worry, I'll wait!'" She sang in mock anger.
His lips pursed, anger lodging in his throat.
She took a breath. She shouldn't get angry. He was right… she'd fucked up. And he had every right to be angry. So did Rachel and Alec, she'd put them all at risk.
"Look… just… this isn't your hit to take. You have Aisha to think about and… just… drive me over to Holstrom Towers." She gulped, gripping the seat as she looked at him. "By tomorrow morning I'll fix everything I can. Rachel, Alec" 'Taylor' "You just lay low. I'll get this done. I promise."
He stared at her, and she was hurt to realize that he was debating whether or not he should believe her. Wondering if she was gonna screw him over.
She supposed she deserved that.
He unclasped the handbrake and pulled out, not saying a word...
They drove down the road, the only break in the silence being when she gave him alternative directions. Avoiding the worst of the roadblocks, the ambulances, and the fire-trucks.
A thirty minute drive was extended into a near two hour quagmire even with her help. An awkward tension gripped the both of them.
When they finally arrived it was, at once, both a relief and far too soon.
Her jaw worked itself, trying to dislodge in order to get out the words that needed to be said, and that he deserved to hear. "For what its worth… I am sorry Brian."
His lips were pursed, tight, in a sad, angry expression. "Yeah." He breathed.
He unlocked the door.
It was answer enough.
She opened the door and got out, Brian drove off.
She turned and limped over towards the closest bench. God did he really have to hit her so hard?
Collapsing on it, she decided her current accommodations were far superior to the grimy spot in the alley she'd been using just a little while earlier.
She pulled out her phone, ready to make her call. Say that she'd gotten-
She felt a gun pressed to the back of her head.
"Don't move."
She raised her hands, the hairs at the back of her neck standing on end.
It was either cold out here, or that was her blood chilling over.
The person walked around to stand in front of her.
Miss Militia.
Miss Militia with a very big, very scary gun.
Miss Militia who looked like she really wouldn't mind pulling that trigger… who was also drenched with a great deal of blood.
"I'm surrendering." She reminded.
"I'm aware." She answered before reaching down to Lisa's waist where her jacket hid her own handgun.
She pulled it free, removing the magazine and catching it in one hand, snapping the bullet free of the chamber before catching it.
Then the gun was in three pieces on the ground.
"Get up."
Her power gave her information. And right now it was telling her that it would be in her best interest to obey.
Militia wanted to help Taylor as much as she did, if not more so. That was a plus. What wasn't was that she was, at this very moment, very much alone with her and the woman was wound tighter than a bowstring.
She was turned around, hissing as she placed too much weight too fast on her bad leg, her body nearly buckling beneath her own weight. Militia held her up by the back of her shirt and jacket, fisting the fabric at the middle of her back.
"Injuries?" She asked. Not in concern.
"My hip… shoulder too. Hip's the worst though."
Her arms were wrenched behind her back, the cold steel of cuffs on her wrist.
"Non fatal." She said before she abruptly pulled her to move. "You'll live."
Lisa allowed her power to give her information.
Angry, suspicious, considers me little more than an opportunist. Thinks I'll try to twist things around again. No. Wrong. Thinks I'm responsible. Thinks I'm the one that made it happen. Does she think I have leverage over Kaiser? Lung? Why? No, not them… twice involved and twice-
Surtr…
Her eyes widened, her new train of thought giving her power a new venue to follow.
Surtr again. Taylor transformed again… whatever came out at the prison raid so many weeks ago came out again.
Her mind nearly fractured under the strain before. What would happen this time?
How did it happen?
What pushed her to transform again?
"What happened wi-"
"Be quiet." Militia hissed. "You and I are not talking. When I arrest you it's going to stick."
Minor. No counsel. No parents. Doesn't want me getting out on a technicality on a bad confession.
She was shoved forward, into a side street where a motorcycle leaned on its rest. "Get on…"
She got on the front, Militia getting on behind her.
A second later they were screeching down the road, driving with speed that made her eyes water, and made it tough to breathe with no helmet on.
As they made their way closer she could feel the stark difference in temperature, like walking into an air-conditioned room.
The fires and the smoke had turned the city into a balmy nightmare. The sweltering heat of the riot spread flames had been alleviated very little by the fact that they were started just as the night's chill was seeping in.
But heading down south to PRT HQ it was like a cold front, and it didn't take her long to catch a glimpse of why as they rode up the edge of the city, hugging the coastline.
It could almost pass for the branches of an old oak tree. The spindly limbs of ice twisted and forked out of the PRT building's front door. Bulletproof glass that had been installed brand-spanking shiny new just a day or two ago was shattered outward.
Whatever had happened happened inside the building. Even so, despite its seemingly… singular point of origin she could see no damage to the building itself outside of the aforementioned doors. And yet whatever it was was powerful enough to send ice snaking out of the building and into the city itself for at least…
Her power provided her with the information where her eyes couldn't.
Eight square block radius.
It had also avoided damage to the surrounding structures and buildings. Outside of people needing to pay their heat bill in summer there was no damage she could see.
Whatever this was, it had been directed.
She'd hacked the PRT systems and heard they'd gotten some kind of macro ice machine but it didn't say he or she could do that.
(X)
Lisa was all but shoved into the chair, hissing as a spike of pain went up her hip, through her waist, and straight to the front of her forehead. Her migraine was coming on fast… she'd need an aspirin in a few hours probably. Lisa was shivering with the cold. Whoever paid the janitors, engineers, and general maintenance people better be paying in gold because, even though the building was covered in a layer of frost that was getting water everywhere, the floors were dry enough so that she didn't slip, and the computers were adequately protected with plastic coverings. It was probably a nightmare for the techs trying to read any fine print, but it'd be worse if the whole thing blew up because of too much water.
But even here there was very little structural damage that she could see. And outside of a woman slipping and breaking her wrist while climbing up the stairs when the ice came, her power hadn't picked up on any other injuries to the staff
One thing she had picked up on though was that Coil was dead.
Somewhere, a part of her was smiling.
The other part was currently telling that part to shut up because there was a lot more fucked up shit going on. No one was in the clear.
Taylor transformed. From what she'd gathered it had taken the whole Triumvirate plus this ice user to bring her down. Dinah was being rushed towards a medical wing to get treatment because she was overdosing on some drug cocktail, and the ice user was in the med wing too for some reason.
And one thing was for damn sure. Heads were going to roll about this. The PRT was gonna get whoever they could and rip that skull right off its shoulders. Birdcage, public image destruction- if you could name it they were probably planning on doing it. The mob was going want someone to blame and the PRT wasn't going to let it be them.
Could be Coil. Could be Kaiser or Lung Could be Piggot. Could be her… could be Taylor.
She would not let that happen.
Her bargaining chips were strong… hopefully. With all the chaos of today she wasn't sure if she had anything left to actually bargain with. They could be dead for all she knew.
She closed her eyes and waited.
It was almost an hour later before the door finally opened up, and in walked-
"Director Piggot" She smirked, the old, devil-may-care grin slipping over her features like an old friend, pained but still there. "Ohh and someone new- A lawyer. Thought I waived that pretty explicitly."
"You're an un-emancipated minor. Only your parents can waive counsel for you miss." The man explained. He could have been related to Grue. Tall, Black, built like a linebacker. Could be Brian in another ten years in a business suit. His hair was completely shaved though.
He stepped forward, placing his briefcase on the table and pulling a chair to sit beside her. "My name is Edward Young. I've been hired by-"
"The Protectorate. You're making very little on this, case was assigned, not your choice, you're professional, confident that you know what you're doing, actually looking out for my interest and not here as a mouthpiece." She smirked. "That's actually a little surprising. Anyway. The Director here made sure to get you because she doesn't want me getting out on appeal based on inadequate counsel. Someone else's idea, not hers. You've already been told I'm a Thinker so none of this really surprises you."
Case in point, the man opened up his briefcase with twin snaps of the locks as though this was nothing to be impressed about. She may have been convinced he was bored if she were anyone else.
"At any rate Mr. Young, I appreciate the help but I've got this, sit back, relax, and let me get you an easy paycheck on the PRT's dime."
"You're free to ignore my advice Ms. Tattletale." He answered. "But I'm still going to give it."
She shrugged.
She looked back to the director.
The director looked like hell.
Worn and exhausted. Bags hung heavy under her eyes, the clammy pallor of her skin told her immediately the woman was sick, the half wheezing breaths and the way she damn near collapsed in her chair told her that. Despite the rather brave and stoic front she was putting up, Piggot was on her last leg right now.
Dealt with whole situation. Hasn't slept in nearly twenty-four hours. Exhausted. Irritated. Drained emotionally and physically. Early onsets of depression.
Piggot sat down across from her. "I'll make this quick for both our sakes." She drawled. "Here's what I know. You've worked with Coil in the past, you gave Miss Militia the location of one of his escape routes from his base, one that he was using when she… intercepted him and his guards. You've been a relatively low key villain in your career so far. A few small time heists. Mainly cash grabs and runs not including the incident at the bank perhaps a month and a half ago."
The woman shifted a bit in her seat. "Now here's what I don't know. You clearly had enough of a grudge against Coil to stab him in the back by giving the location of his escape, But then, rather than slip away in the confusion, you choose to surrender into our custody. Why?"
"Well ya see." She leaned back in her chair, hands lacing in front of her stomach. "I heard you people give free healthcare and I just had to get some considering how banged up I got."
If only Piggot could have fired laser death beams from her eyes...
"In all seriousness though. My teammates. Bitch and Regent. I'm here to make a deal on their behalf… and mine-"
"Ahem." Mr. Young replied. "Miss, I would suggest that-"
She waved him off, smiling. "Like I said, I thought this through. Thinker power, you don't have to worry."
He leaned back in his seat, the slightest bit of irritation coloring his micro-expressions.
She turned back to Piggot. "See, here's the thing. Our friend Coil had a lot of spies. And I mean enough people to help him run a CIA agency. He had them everywhere. I know of at least seven in the ABB, another twelve in the E-88 and, not counting Coil himself, five people right here with the PRT. Quid-pro-quo. You get the names, my teammates go free, and me… I guess I get a reduced sentence."
"Your and your team have a list of crimes that include grand theft, robbery, assault, mutilation, assault with parahuman abilities, conspiracy to aid in prison escapes, felony murder. That last one could get your friends life. You too. And you want me to cut you a deal for some names that I could probably get myself in a few months, who were in contact with a now dead parahuman. This is your so called bargaining chip."
She gave it a good effort.
But little Miss Piggot very much wanted that list of names, despite how much she was trying to underplay it.
The five leaks they had alone would have been enough to sway her.
To have a list of potential snitches/informants in the E-88 and the ABB? That was just gravy on top.
She smirked. "The vast majority of those crimes you mentioned were committed under duress. Knowing that Coil was working for the PRT, I knew I couldn't come here, being a Thinker, it didn't take me long to see how far his reach was and that there was very little chance of getting away from him if I tried. Under the threat of the corrupt PRT agent who threatened my life and could send out a bolo to find me with his contacts I had no choice but to do what he asked."
She frowned. "You'd try to pin all your bullshit on him?"
"Dead men tell no tales." She answered, tilting her head a bt. "And all I'd have to do to make it fly is convince a jury. And come on, look at me. No name, villain white girl with blond hair and a sob story in the New Hampshire district whilst dealing with the picture perfect image of a corrupt PRT agent, who had enough power, influence, drive, and intelligence such as to send you PRT agents packing at the Prison by pulling out the big monster called 'Surtr'."
Piggot glowered. So much for her power play.
Lisa smirked a little more. "You think they won't believe duress after painting it like that?"
The woman's features turned blank for a split second and that was enough.
Lisa leaned a little to the side. "Are you wearing, the tiniest of earpieces Director? Trying to trick me into something with it… Ohhh got a Thinker on the other end do you. Probably didn't wanna tip your hands. Oh well the jigs up, tell the new girl… girl right? Yes. Girl. Anyway. Tell her to come out and join us. Its so rare to be able to have a conversation with another thinker, it'd almost be a novelty."
Piggot's eyes narrowed, then, she stood and moved to walk out the door, intent on leaving. With her advantage of a hidden Thinker in her ear now out, the playing field was now squarely in Lisa's favor.
"One more thing." The blond teenager called after her. "I do have some more information, possibly just as valuable if not more so considering that it falls under slightly more important jurisdictions. You know… places the PRT head honchos actually gives a shit about."
The woman turned, her lip curling upwards in a barely controlled sneer. "Speak…"
"Its not just information on the Empire and the ABB I have up my sleeve. Coil also had some dealings and spies in the gangs over in Boston and New York. I know Legend is interested in getting a few more snitches and informants in the Teeth." She took a deep breath.
"And what exactly are you looking for in exchange for this?"
'Here.' Lisa's smile dropped. "Ashburn. Your Ward. She needs some serious help. I want a guarantee that she gets it. That you people don't try to just sweep her under a rug, throw her in a room, and lock away the key til' you need her for an Endbringer or something."
The door that had been half opened was snapped shut and Piggot turned around to face her, eyes narrowed. Her next words were her own, not a product of the thinker at the other end of the tiny earpiece. "Interesting. And why is that Tattletale?"
Lisa frowned.
"I have my reasons." She decided to say. If it came to light that she was partly responsible for over a hundred deaths at the hands of Surtr in that prison riot, she'd never survive prison. Every gangbanger and wannabe badass would be gunning for her either out of revenge or to try and get in good with the local gangs. "She's had it rough. I saw everything that happened. And I've managed to gather enough information to help with this so called 'Master'."
"You did a lot more than just see everything that happened." Piggot sneered. The Thinker. "Before we go anywhere tell us who the Master is if you're so keen on helping as a matter of good faith."
She opened her mouth when Mr. Young stepped in.
"In writing." He snapped, glaring at both her and Piggot, daring Lisa to say otherwise. "You give us documents, in writing, signed by you, the district attorney, and Legend. She does not give you a thing until that happens. If you really do have a Thinker behind that glass, any information she gives can be used to extrapolate the other information. That won't be happening."
Lisa closed her mouth. He was right. She'd been about to talk on her suspicions on the nature of Taylor's Surtr state but if the Thinker was good enough… best to err on the side of caution.
She nodded. "You heard the man."
Piggot gave a snarl, opened the door, and marched out.
Nearly an hour later she marched back in with an orderly. Document in hand. Young took the document and began to look over its pages.
"Does it check?" Asked Piggot, arms crossed. Lisa knew she was on edge right now.
Young ignored her, still reading over the document. His reading glasses were so small on his massive frame it was almost comical.
"It says here that my client will agree to allow her Thinker power to be available to the Protectorate in the pursuit of solving crimes should they deem it necessary to ask."
"A thinker seven could have done a lot of good in a lot of potential cases." She answered, glaring at her. "Her power is too useful to have it rotting in a jail cell."
Young nodded.
"What does the contract say?" She decided to ask.
Young took a breath. "Basically all the information you're willing to cough up, and if it checks out and turns out to be useful they'd be willing to plead out with the villains known as Regent and Hellhound. Reduced sentences and crimes, I'll check, but given the sentencing terms for these reduced charges my estimate is that they'll be out in three years. Five at the most. Two if they're on good behavior. They may have less time if the judge decides to remand them for time served or suspended sentencing. Ms. Hebert's care is said to have never been in question. They were going to do that to begin with. As for your own sentencing, that would depend on how much of your information is still viable and how much exactly you're willing to co-operate both now and in the future. They're offering two days reduced time for every occasion they need to call on you?"
"You can't do any better with Regent and Bitch?"
"That case is already filed and in proceedings." Piggot answered. "I doubt the DA will be willing to give you a better deal than that."
Lisa's eyes narrowed.
Trying to not make me push. Doesn't want Bitch and Regent getting off scot free. Knows the DA will plead out with the sudden influx of criminals and workload. Two juvenile parahumans will be thrown out with the bath water. Same with my case since they'd have trouble proving that I wasn't acting under intimidation with my crimes. Will also plead out because they don't want the PRT image soiled by a corrupt agent that was the cause for half the city becoming a warzone.
"Get a better deal from the DA." She said by way of answer "And you'll offer five days cut from my time for every occasion you call for me to use my Thinker power."
The woman looked ready to all but lunge over the table and strangle her when she stopped, looking as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.
Thinker on the other end, not just giving information, giving orders, higher up the chain than Piggot.
That was… surprising. She didn't know any high level Protectorate capes that were involved with the think tank that could supercede the authority of a PRT Branch Director.
"Give me a moment." The sickly woman ground out between grit teeth before she walked out of the interrogation room. No doubt to argue with someone.
Mr. Young bussied himself with making notes on a clipboard as he read over the contract, annotations and corrections she surmised, eliminating any possible loop-holes he could find, being as specific and diligent as possible.
When the door opened again nearly twenty minutes later, she looked and all but sat bolt upright.
It wasn't Piggot at the door.
Alexandria strode into the room, her armor and clothes scratched from the recent battle with the Surtr, smelling like smoke and burned wood.
She sat down and laced her hands in front of her, over the table, her features completely blank from what she could see under the mask.
"Your offer will be taken to the district attorney's office first thing in the morning. If he accepts the counteroffer, consider it signed and sealed."
"Thanks…" She answered warily. "But I doubt you were sent here as a messenger girl to tell me that."
"No I wasn't. Lets talk about Miss Hebert." She said.
Lisa paused. "You're the Thinker Piggot had on the other end?" She let out a chuckle. "Damn. Talk about drawing the full package in the power lottery contest."
"It has its moments." She answered without a hint of humor in her voice or on her face. "Now. Your deal merely pertains to yourself and your captured friends, and while you included Miss Hebert in the guarantees you're looking for, as we said in the contract, we never had any intention of doing anything less. Ergo, I'm here to ask you to tell us what you know so that we can start this process as quickly as possible. The first step is the identity of the Master."
Lisa pursed her lips. Alexandria was a bit harder to read than Piggot. Not nearly as strained, not nearly as worn or weary. Though her words were neutral in tone they were giving all kinds of signals, some contradictory.
On the whole though, the woman seemed to be telling the truth.
And the last thing she wanted to do was try to profit on Taylor's misfortune anymore than she already had. She schooled her features into the most neutral expression she could manage. Trying to give as little as possible to the Thinker/Brute now sitting across from her.
"Alright, let's start… First thing you should know. There is no Master. Coil never hired anyone."
There was a moment of surprise that the heroine couldn't fully hide.
"Explain."
"Coil already knew about her destructive power… somehow. He used that knowledge to drive Taylor over a proverbial cliff with the use of knowledge regarding a certain Sophia Hess." She glared at Alexandria, hoping her anger would mask anything else she might be giving away.
It wasn't hard. The PRT really did fuck up on that one.
She rubbed her head. "From what I've seen of Taylor so far. Its not any 'Master' not really. Its her power in and of itself."
"Her power is influencing her psyche then."
Lisa shook her head. "Yeah but not in the way you're thinking. Its not some sudden psychosis that's taken her over and won't turn off like some other lunatic capes who go crazy or change personality after triggering. Those guys still, more or less stay 'them' they still have the same quirks, same biology, same everything. Here… her powers think on their own. They act on their own. When you finally stopped Surtr, tell me, was Taylor unconscious?"
Alexandria didn't answer, but for Lisa it was answer enough.
"Exactly. Someone who's asleep doesn't react with that much coordination. Someone who's asleep doesn't suddenly switch from having a dominant right hand to a dominant left one. Or know how to wield a sword with trained precision, or fight with a completely alien fighting style that specialises in upper body strength."
"What your describing shouldn't be possible." Alexandria answered, though she was giving it some serious thought, the glaring disparity becoming obvious in her memories from videos of Taylor herself and Surtr.
"So was a guy flying. Til it wasn't. So was bypassing the Manton Limit til one day it wasn't. There's a first time for everything and I am telling you that Taylor's power isn't just something that gives her benefits. It's a thinking… entity in her head with its own thoughts and its own agenda."
She kept silent about the dark place she found Taylor in. They might lock the BOTH of them up and throw away the keys.
Alexandria knew she was holding something back but, mercifully, the woman didn't mention it, whatever her power had given her telling her it was unimportant in the face of this new dilemma.
"I see…"
Suddenly, the door opened, and in walked some agent, looking a little flustered. "Uhhh… ma'am. Sorry to interrupt ma'am but uhhh-" He paused, eyeing her pointedly. Alexandria beckoned him over and the young man leaned down to whisper in her ear.
She couldn't see the raised eyebrow exactly, but it was definitely there.
The agent pulled away and Alexandria's frow deepened.
Then she looked to Lisa.
"Consider this the first five days of your sentence cut. What exactly was Coil keeping in his vaults?"
Lisa blinked.
"Uhhh. What?"
"What was he keeping in his vaults." Alexandria growled. "You were his underling right?"
"Contraband and weapons far as I know."
"Yes. Yes he should." Alexandria said. Lisa didn't need to know she was narrowing her eyes, trying to read her. "What we're finding however..."
She shrugged. "I honestly don't know. Never went down there. I take it that with the overflow of prisons I'll be under house arrest." Alexandria nodded.
"That's for the district attorney and the judge to decide." Alexandria stood. "Now I've got to go. Your previous employer apparently had more than just 'Contraband and weapons'"
"Hey wait. Ta-I mean… Ashburn. If you need me for anything involving her. Any help that I can give or whatever. You can ask. No reduced sentence for those. Promise."
She nodded.
The woman marched out and Lisa breathed a little easier, no longer needing to hold her proverbial breath while speaking to the thinker.. "How long do you think I looking arrest Mr. Young?" She asked.
"Well… assuming you do your due diligence, good behavior, and I push the deal with the DA's office… I'm going to say if you're busy, about a year and a half at the least. Three at most. If they keep you busy you can cut down a lot of time considerably." He nodded, more to himself than to her. "I believe we're done here for the time being. I'm going to go and overlook the drafting of the contract and come back when we're done so you can read it, make sure you're satisfied, and sign."
She nodded, slowly allowing herself to lean back into her chair. "Yeah… Its done then."
"It is." He answered, not realizing the question was rhetorical.
She nodded.
Done. It was over.
It was finally over...