Chapter 7-Interlude 2

Of all the law enforcement agencies in the country, few have a job as taxing and difficult as that of the Parahuman Response Team. Policing some of the most dangerous people in the world while being hilariously outgunned was one reason. Dealing with the myriad of conflicting interests was another. Sometimes, upholding the law while adhering to it simply wasn't in the cards, but you were expected to do it anyway. It's days like these that made Emily Piggot wonder why the hell she was still doing it. The job had ravaged her body, dominated her life, beaten her down in just about every way possible, and what does she have to show for it?

Nothing at all.

In spite of her best efforts, Brockton Bay had become a hellhole. Parahuman gangs pretty much roamed the streets freely and the only ones capable of stopping them were a bunch of unstable lunatics dressed in spandex. If it weren't for the herculean amount of work Emily had put in this city, it would have burned to the ground years ago. A small consolation, but better than none.

"Please tell me we've found the source of the leak." The director growled to the group in front of her. If dealing with the gangs and the failing economy wasn't bad enough, she also had to deal with discontent from within. Apparently, someone had thought it was a good idea to tell the Youth Guard of what happened yesterday. They then passed it on to Washington, who passed it on to Chief Director Costa-Brown, who in turn demanded a meeting in about half an hour. So the circle was complete.

"Unfortunately, we haven't." Armsmaster admitted. "Dragon and I have checked all communications entering and leaving the base, as well as all PRT-issue cellphones. Nothing that would indicate who did this and why."

"Tattletale?" Bringing the villain on board had been Armsmaster's idea. As useful as the girl was, Piggot had always seen her as too dangerous. Nevertheless, 'Miss Wilbourn' was pulling her weight and had become far too valuable to get rid of.

"She was the first I checked. It wasn't her. She never had the opportunity. I'm sorry, Director, but I think the leak is on your side." She knew better than to think that Armsmaster was actually feeling sorry. He was probably happy to hear that it wasn't one of his and therefore, not his screw-up. It might actually save his career, which was the only thing he truly cared about. "Before you ask, we have no idea who and if the whistleblower was smart enough to use a payphone, we probably never will."

"I see. Have you tried hacking the Youth Guard?"

Armsmaster frowned. "No, and we won't. Hacking a government agency without authorization is a federal offence."

Piggot snorted. "Of course it is. Renick?"

Her deputy shifted in his seat. "I've asked around, but… Let's just say there's no shortage of suspects. In fact, from what I've been hearing, about half of the people on the base could have made that call and the only reason I'm not suspecting the other half is because they were stuck in the docks, trying to purge that biolab the Boxheads left behind."

The director nodded. The day was just getting better and better. "Any chance of villains being involved?"

The sad truth was that an organization as large and influential as the PRT is bound to be riddled with moles. In a world with powers, anyone can be compromised. Then, there were the more mundane methods of turning someone: money, threats, false promises. Sometimes, it seemed like the PRT was its own worst enemy. How could a law enforcement agency function if you couldn't trust your own people?

Renick thought about it before saying: "Possible but, well… Occam's Razor, ma'm."

"Meaning?"

"Yes, it could have been a villain, but with all due respect, you sent a Wards team into a warzone. Necessary or not, someone's is going to blow a whistle for that on principle. All it takes is one person deciding to make a stand. Besides, if it were villains, why call the Youth Guard? Why not go straight to the press? This is exactly the sort of thing that would cripple us if the public ever finds out about it. No, I'm putting my money on an old-fashioned whistleblower."

"So we can rule out villains, then. Very well. Keep digging. Costa-Brown wants to have a talk and I need answers yesterday." Piggot dismissed her people and sighed. She'd be very surprised if this wasn't the end of her career. Funnily enough, the thought of losing her job didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. She'd never been that ambitious and would never had gotten this position if it weren't for some extraordinary circumstances. Nevertheless, it had been a constant in her life and she didn't want to lose it. Not just for herself, but for the city as well.

Having been the director for a decade, Piggot had learned much. She knew most of the villains in her city and what drove them. She knew that Kaiser didn't really believe in the drivel he spewed out on a daily basis and that Coil had parahumans on the payroll, even before Tattletale confirmed it. She had contacts and acquaintances in the city: favors she could call in from people she trusted, and leverage over those she didn't. She was on first-name basis with the mayor and knew the name of the DA's cat. All of them were small, seemingly insignificant things that allowed her to manipulate the city as needed. Networking was key in her profession. A replacement would have to start over and the gangs would exploit that. Even if her replacement was a hundred times more capable than she was, if would take months before the situation would stabilize again. With Empire 88 poised to strike, a distraction like that would cost the PRT dearly.

Emily sighed again. Whatever happened, it wasn't in her hands anymore. All she could do is present the truth and hope for the best.

Half an hour later, she was sitting in a room, waiting for the videoconference to begin. Armsmaster was standing next to her, looking pensive. Normally, she wouldn't have minded his presence, but his constant finicking with his halberd was getting on her nerves. "You do realize that this is ultimately my responsibility, right?" Piggot told him. "If anyone's career is over, it's mine."

The hero simply grunted in response. She wasn't expecting any more from him. Even if his head wouldn't roll, it would still be a black mark on his otherwise near-spotless record and that was something his pride couldn't take.

The monitors activated. On the other side were Costa-Brown and Legend. Piggot sighed. She had no illusions as to what the real purpose of this meeting was. Heads would have to roll.

"I will skip the pleasantries, since none of us are interested in them anyway." Chief Director Costa-Brown began. "For the record: on Monday second of May, you ordered your Wards team to assist in a Protectorate assault on a stronghold belonging to the 'Boxhead' gang. Can you explain the circumstances surrounding this event?"

"The details are in my report, ma'm." Piggot simply replied. "One of my Wards, Kid Win, was kidnapped while on patrol. In order to flesh out our rescue force, we asked the Wards for volunteers. All decided to join."

Costa-Brown looked at her inquisitively. "The Boxheads have shown that they are more than willing to use lethal force against law enforcement personnel. They are heavily armed, well-equipped, and their main Tinker is rumored to be on par with Dragon in terms of capabilities. In spite of all that, you still chose to not only involve minors, but to actually put them on the front line."

"It was necessary." Armsmaster said. "The Protectorate alone didn't have the firepower to destroy that base and my Wards knew what they were getting into. I will admit that using them in this fashion was regrettable, but the consequences of benching them were even worse."

"Then call for help!" Legend said, barely hiding his disappointment with the situation. "I am literally a phone call away."

Armsmaster shook his head. "Time was of the essence and it would have taken hours for the paperwork to be finished and our forces to be assembled. We needed to recover Kid Win immediately. I'm sure you understand what kind of PR disaster it would have been if the press had found out that a Ward was kidnapped during a routine patrol."

"As opposed to a Ward with a double-digit body count? Vista: thirteen years old, seven kills. Banshee: fifteen years old, thirty-six kills. These two girls probably killed more people than I have over my entire career. It's just… tell me you at least pulled them from the combat roster." It was odd, to see the leader of the Protectorate this upset. Then again, he did have a son roughly that age. It had to hit close to home.

"I'm afraid that isn't possible. Kid Win's parents have forced me to withdraw him from the roster and we are already dangerously undermanned as it is. Simply put, I can't afford to bench two of my heavy hitters while Empire 88 is running around virtually unchecked. Every Ward I can send on patrol is a Protectorate member free to do something else."

"And there comes the ruthless calculus again." Legend sighed.

"I know. It's the reality of Brockton Bay. Unless you can double the size of my Protectorate or are willing to give up on the city altogether, there isn't much I can do. I hate sending children into battle as much as you do, but I just don't have a choice anymore."

"You've said that before. There just aren't any capes left to transfer."

That was a lie, and everyone in the room knew it. While it was true that the demand for heroes vastly outstripped the supply, there were many cities that were in far better shape than Brockton Bay was and could afford to give up a hero or two. In reality, the main reason why Brockton Bay hadn't been reinforced was because the city wasn't going to be fixed anyway. The gangs were a symptom, not the cause. Kick out the Empire, and gangs like the Fallen or the Teeth would take their place. Without the economy improving, clearing out the gangs is pointless.

Piggot cleared her throat. "Chief Director, Legend, as much as I regret what has happened, I stand by my decisions. Circumstances forced my hand and I have done what I could to mitigate the damage afterwards."

"I know." Costa-Brown admitted. "Your report was detailed enough. Personally, I would have taken the risk and called Legend, but I can understand why you didn't. Ultimately, you did manage to retrieve your Ward and conscript a valuable Tinker without any fatalities. If it were up to me, I would have told you to carry on and that would have been the end of it. You have done an exemplary job thus far and deserve that much." She took a deep breath. The glare Legend shot her way was very telling. "Unfortunately, it's not up to me. With this incident and the Shadow Stalker affair in mind, the Youth Guard has expressed its concerns regarding your capacity to take care of your teenage superheroes and I have been told in no uncertain terms that this cannot happen again."

"Last time I checked, the Youth Guard doesn't have the authority to tell us what to do."

"Officially, they don't. They're little more than an ill-conceived plan designed to win votes and make our job that much harder. Unofficially, the political lobby that backs them has enough pull to give them that authority unless I can convince them we can handle the matter ourselves. Obviously, we can't allow our superheroes to be strung up by even more unnecessary bureaucracy. In order to prevent that… I'm forced to take action."

"And by action, you mean: firing me." Piggot had seen this coming. She wasn't surprised. Political power plays were the order of the day and it was only a matter of time until she fell victim to one.

"Reassigning you." Costa-Brown corrected. "You're too useful to cut loose just yet, Emily. We'll inform you of the details and of your replacement later. Until then, I'm putting you under administrative leave starting tomorrow morning and temporarily transferring command over to Deputy Renick for the time being."

Translation: she was being kicked upstairs to keep the politicians happy. Piggot sighed. This was to be expected. The needs of the PRT far outweigh those of her own career. Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made. "I understand."

"Good. For what it's worth, I'm sorry." For once, the Chief Director sounded genuine. Whether that was actually the case is up for debate.

"Don't be. I know how the world works. Just make sure my replacement's up for the job."

Costa-Brown nodded and signed off. Legend left shortly after. Piggot looked to Armsmaster, who was finicking with his halberd again. "You should be relieved." She said. "I'm the only one that got the boot."

"But they're blaming me anyway." Armsmaster grunted in response. "They shouldn't have fired you. We did what we had to do, but that just isn't good enough for some people, isn't it?"

"It is what it is." Piggot couldn't help but feel surprisingly good about the whole affair. She just lost her job, one that she spent ten years of her life doing, and yet she felt no small amount of relief. "Maybe a change in scenery isn't such a bad thing."

"Replacing you doesn't solve anything. The gangs will still be there and it's going to take weeks for the next director to be fully up to speed. If Empire 88 strikes now…"

"I know, Armsmaster. I'll do my best to make the transition as painless as possible. The rest…the rest will be up to you and Renick." God have mercy on us all, she thought darkly.

Piggot left, wondering what to do next. She should probably brief Renick and get her affairs in order. After that? She had no idea. Maybe read a good book or two. At any rate, Brockton Bay and all its issues weren't her problem anymore, whether she liked it or not.

She pitied the unlucky soul that had to replace her.