Chapter Thirty-Nine: Paranoia
April 9, 2011
Thomas Calvert's file said he was "detail oriented" which was the polite way of calling him a control freak so that it didn't kill the career of a very successful PRT squad captain with a stellar record. Coil actually preferred the term "paranoid."
Despite common misconception, there was nothing wrong with being paranoid. Paranoid was just another word for cautious, since cautious had been so watered down it was now practically useless. Coil was paranoid, knew he was paranoid, and actually cultivated the habit in himself. And that was why Coil always thought of himself as Thomas Calvert when he was at work.
At this moment, Coil was sitting at home, accessing his network of information and hidden cameras from an encrypted, hardline connection hidden in his living room, while Thomas Calvert was at work, monitoring his squad's workout and waiting for a hot call to come in that required their response. Coil had gotten up that morning, injected himself with a strain of stomach flu, and called into work sick, in case anything unusual occurred throughout the day and he needed an alibi. Thomas Calvert had gotten up, read the newspaper, showered, eaten breakfast, and driven himself to work.
The phone sitting at Coil's elbow buzzed, at the same time that Thomas Calvert's phone registered an email. Thomas Calvert, spotting one of his soldiers at the weight bench, never broke rhythm as he counted the repetitions, while Coil looked at the text. It was from Tattletale, and his lips pursed. She'd avoided him so far, only acknowledging him when he reached out to her or when the Undersiders needed something directly from him. He hadn't been expecting to hear from her any time soon, since the Undersiders were keeping their head down after the hit on Lung's casino.
The casino had been a bust - rich in cash, of course, but of no other value - and had painted quite the target on his teenaged villains. He was fascinated to see how they would weather Lung's attention.
New prospects for Undersiders. Will only join if they can meet "sponsor." You're going to want to meet them.
Coil sat back in his chair, idly reaching for the carefully calibrated combination of medications that would shut down his stomach bug, while Thomas Calvert's count reached thirty and he helped his soldier set the bar into the appropriate hooks. He waved the man on and called one of the women taking a water break to come bench press next, while he adjusted the weight to suit her strength.
Tattletale didn't necessarily like the other Undersiders, that was true, and he had mentioned to her the possibility of bringing new members into the group in the future. But for her to go out and actively recruit two or more new members seemed out of character, and out of alignment with his understanding of the team dynamics. Coil tried to track the phone he'd given her, but it had been sitting at the Undersiders' base of operations for days, which meant either that the new prospects had come to her, or that she had left her phone behind.
Another moment of consideration provided a third alternative: she'd cloned the phone chip to make it more difficult for him to track her. So what did it mean that she'd chosen to leave the phone he'd given her behind as she went about her life? Was it a small act of defiance or independence, a way for her assert herself? Or did she have secrets to hide?
Proper caution required he assume the second. But why leave it behind now, after carrying it for months? He used his illegal access to the city records, in conjunction with the GPS data from Lisa's phone on April 4th, 5th, and 6th, to try to track down what caused the change in her behavior. The data was inconclusive. She'd taken several city buses around town, done some shopping at the Boardwalk, and eaten lunch out. In short, nothing that broke her previous patterns of behavior.
For all appearances, Tattletale had simply walked out of the Undersiders' base sometime on Wednesday and not taken her phone with her. He had cameras hidden in the area, but Tattletale could find a way around them if she was determined. She was smart enough for that.
Coming alone, untracked, to a meeting wouldn't be an unreasonable response, depending on who had reached out to her. Coil didn't know of anyone in the Brockton Bay area that would be eager to join the Undersiders, but teenage triggers were common. It could be a new cape who lived in the docks or had interacted with Undersiders at some point. It might even have been someone who had triggered at the casino robbery.
Why would she then leave her phone alone for three days? Perhaps she hadn't been back to the Undersiders at all. She certainly wasn't on any of the footage in the area. What to do, what to do…
He could reply immediately, play it out, and collapse this timeline if things went wrong, leaving behind Thomas Calvert, innocent PRT contractor. Or Coil could go to his emergency bunker, collapse the Thomas Calvert timeline, split the physically safer timeline, and then play out this scenario over and over until he got it right. Which was the better protection? Physical security, or anonymity?
Thomas Calvert glanced at the clock. It was nearly five hours before he'd be able to leave work without a good reason. It had been just over a year since his last sick day, but his men had all seen him already, looking plenty healthy. He could fake an illness from his non-existent wife, but it wasn't as safe as having been sick since the beginning of the day. He could wait to reply, of course, but he preferred to react to unexpected events immediately, to gather information as fast as possible, to help him determine what had happened and which timeline was safer. The only question now, was which timeline to risk for the sake of his curiousity.
Anonymity or physical security? Anonymity, Coil finally decided. He'd respond to Tattletale's text, take the physical risks with his Coil timeline, and keep the Thomas Calvert timeline as his safety net. Coil glanced at the clock on his computer. It was 12:22 PM, so he'd wait to respond until 1:00 when Thomas Calvert would be done with his exercises and doing paperwork. That would allow Thomas Calvert computer access so that he could verify anything Tattletale told Coil. It wasn't ideal - he'd be freer to double check her story if Thomas Calvert could use his equipment at home or in his bunker - but he wanted to disturb his life as Thomas Calvert as little as possible, unless this proved to be worth the cost.
Coil passed the time trying to discover more about what Tattletale had been doing between Wednesday and Saturday, trying to account for those four missing days, but found little. She'd dropped completely off the map.
As soon as Thomas Calvert was in the relative privacy of his office, he checked his email. Sure enough, he had a "spam" email from a non-existent online subscription, his system's way of innocuously informing him he had a text from a priority number on one of his personal lines. That was good, it meant that whatever had prompted Tattletale to text him now was independent of any differences in the timelines, and each should be equally viable when it came to whatever opportunity was presenting itself.
Coil picked up his phone and re-read Tattletale's text again.
New prospects for Undersiders. Will only join if they can meet "sponsor." You're going to want to meet them.
It didn't sound exactly like her; Tattletale was never so brusque with him. She'd probably had help writing it. Interesting, but not damning. After some consideration, he sent his own message.
Who are they?
The reply was almost immediate.
Now really, Mr. Mysterious, where's the fun in that? If Tattletale won't give us your name I'm sure as hell not going to give you mine.
Ah, so he wasn't speaking with Tattletale at all. He re-read the texts so far, and started to build a mental profile of his opponent. He was a strong individual, capable of overpowering or outmaneuvering Tattletale. He was confident, and a leader. It was almost certain that he had approached Tattletale, perhaps with the eye of recruiting her away from the Undersiders or perhaps looking to take over the group. Coil couldn't imagine that this person was looking to join his little villain team.
Everything about the conversation was an attempt to assert his dominance. Coil's unknown opponent had started with brisk, disrespectful grammar. He'd put "sponsor" in quotations to try to belittle Coil's role in the Undersiders, and finished the text with a statement of fact that was actually a command.
The reply was even more domineering. The simple act of taking Tattletale's phone, rather than telling her what to text, and choosing to text Coil directly spoke of a man of action. The unknown cape had given Coil a name, which was a way of asserting his view of Coil, and mocked him. He'd also tried to imply that he and Coil were equals in not knowing each other's names, the least aggressive but most irritating gesture in the short exchange.
A lesser man would have allowed his anger to rule his response. Coil was angry, yes, but he didn't allow his temper to slip off of its leash. This cape wanted to play hardball? Well, Coil could use that against him. There was an art to controlling someone by letting them think they were in power. Coil, as a villain, used it rarely, but he had significant practice in the technique from his second life as Thomas Calvert.
How many "prospects" do you represent?
Coil didn't bother with questions like how the cape had gotten in contact with Tattletale, or how he'd convinced her to give up whatever secrets she had told him. That he would figure out or torture out of her at a later date. Instead, he asked a question that the cape would want to answer.
Myself and two others. Plus Tattletale.
It was another aggressive move, to claim that he'd somehow stolen Tattletale from Coil, but the villain let his anger slide away again. After a moment of consideration, he decided to pretend to be the sort of person that could be provoked so easily, and replied hotly:
Why should I waste my time with three no-name cowards?
The other cape didn't immediately reply, perhaps consulting with Tattletale or his other teammates, but more likely reveling in his victory. A dominant personality would not look to his teammates for advice during a critical moment like this one.
Meet me and find out.
Interesting. Meet me, not meet us. This cape thought of himself as significantly more powerful than the ones he had recruited. Whether he actually was or not remained to be seen.
Where?
His opponent's choice of location would tell Coil quite a bit about his identity, and possibly even give the whole game away. Coil almost hoped that the other cape didn't fall for it; it had been so long since he'd felt the thrill of actually being challenged. It was terrifying, yes, but also exhilarating. Coil had been keeping his head down and playing things much safer than he'd hoped to before Contract had moved to Brockton Bay.
Having the Ender in the city was causing Coil no end of headaches, but none of them were like the problem before him. With Contract it was all second-guessing himself, fear that one of the thinkers watching Brockton Bay would accidentally discover one or more of his secrets, and generally just having to be even more paranoid. He'd started to push his timelines as far out as he could go, sometimes letting the divergences stretch on for over a day while he tried to hurry the construction of his base, so that he'd have an actual safe haven to retreat to. The bunker was good, but it was an emergency measure for himself, not a solution for his enterprise.
Now, here was a problem that he could out-think, out-match, and it reminded him why he'd wanted powers in the first place. The chance to be better, to win was within his grasp and it was like a drug to Coil's frayed nerves.
As the supplicants, shouldn't we be asking you that question? Where would you feel safe meeting?
The reply pulled Coil from his thoughts, and made him want to laugh aloud. The unknown opponent was no more a supplicant than he himself was, and they both knew it. The text was also a clumsy attempt to manipulate Coil into inviting them into his base, which he wouldn't do even if it was complete, at least not without serious backup on hand. In fact, it was such a clumsy attempt that Coil could almost believe it was meant to be so, as a joke. Certainly, such awkward and heavy-handed management did not fit with the previous texts.
Where do all villains feel safe meeting? 2 PM.
If the other cape didn't already know about Somer's Rock, which Coil judged unlikely, Tattletale would be able to tell him.
2 PM.
The program which Coil had been using to try to trace the texts still showed that they were being sent from Tattletale's phone in the Undersiders' base, which had to be a clone. No one as controlling as this new cape would be willing to work out of someone else's home territory, not without very good assurances.
It made Coil wonder what this new cape would have done if Coil had invited him to his base, but he dismissed the daydream outright. Two o'clock didn't give him a lot of time to prepare, but more importantly, the same could be said for his opponents, which was the intention. Coil called up his primary team of covert assets, mercenaries who were able to think instead of just shoot when told to do so, and sent them to surround Somer's Rock without being seen. They would also track anyone who was coming into or out of the area, in case Coil could find something useful in the information later.
Coil called the captain of the mercenary team currently in charge of overseeing construction at his future base of operations and had him dedicate two of his men to watching the camera feeds from around the Undersiders' base, just in case. He also put the captain on high alert, because one can never be too paranoid.
Using the same logic, he sent Circus a text to put her on standby, and told her to head towards the area of Somer's Rock but not to get within five miles of the actual location. Then it was time to call Creep and begin the process of safely transforming from "Thomas Calvert home sick with the stomach flu" to "Coil, dangerous villain mastermind."
When Coil arrived at Somer's Rock at promptly two o'clock, his mercenaries had not yet informed him of anyone else who had gone into the pub. Either his opponent was late, or he had already been in Somer's Rock when he and Coil had been texting. Coil got out of the back of the van, tapped it twice to tell Creep to drive away, and strode without pause into Somer's Rock.
It had been overcast outside, but the pub was still dim enough to force Coil to take just a moment's pause while his eyes adjusted to the darker interior. As he did so, he could see a figure standing up from one of the tables in the center of the room, leaving three others seated. So his opponent had brought in all his firepower, had he?
Coil's vision focused, showing him a short cape wearing heavy black combat pants, a black shirt that was skin tight, but not protective as far as he could tell, and a white visor over a black domino mask, made of some sort of hard material that seemed crafted to fit his face and the visor. No, not his face - her face. The short blond hair was deceptive, but closer examination of her figure suggested his opponent was female.
"Coil," she said, nodding in greeting but not extending her hand. She gestured toward the table, which could seat eight. His opponent had risen from the far head of the table, a place of power emphasized by the three filled seats around her. Coil did not advance to sit at the foot as she indicated, but remained standing, forcing her to do so as well. She'd walked around the table to greet him, leaving her people behind. This was the best power play available to him at this time.
A glance toward the table, contemptuous, both told her what he thought of her posturing and let him take in his opponent's underlings. Tattletale was seated farthest from the head, next to a cape in a black body suit and a blue visor with white tracing that both did and didn't match the rest of his blue armor. The look felt incomplete, like the costume had been assembled recently or cobbled together from multiple sources. The last cape was clearly recognizable as Beetle, and told him exactly who he was dealing with.
He glanced back to the cape closest to him, and saw her smirk. "Contract," he said as he tipped his head. Her smirk widened, clearly pleased that he'd figured out who she was, but that he hadn't known when he walked in. "I did not expect to see you here."
Contract shrugged, turning her back to him as she went to retake her seat at the table. It must have been Intrepid who was sitting at her right hand, Tattletale next to him, with Beetle positioned to Contract's left. "Please take a seat, we have much to discuss."
As far as Coil knew, neither Beetle nor Intrepid was a striker, so sitting at the table put him only at a psychological disadvantage and not a physical one. He took the seat next to Beetle, who barely twitched as he sat. Tattletale was watching everyone closely; the vulpine grin he was so familiar with nowhere in sight. She was nervous.
Coil remained silent, letting Contract begin the conversation, while Thomas Calvert accessed the PRT databases. According to the access records, none of Contract's Wards were currently in the base, and hadn't been since Thursday afternoon. All of the Wards had been called in on Wednesday evening, and Clockblocker and Beetle had both missed school to be on-base on Thursday, but there was no indication of why. Had Tattletale run to the Wards, somehow bypassing the PRT procedures? Was this a trap?
Coil refrained from dropping the Somer's Rock timeline and reverting to the safety of the Thomas Calvert timeline. He'd learn more about the Wards' schemes if he let this play out a little while longer, and there was no sign that either self was in immediate danger.
"I'd like to talk to you about the future of the Undersiders," Contract declared. Coil cocked his head to show he was listening, but didn't respond. Contract didn't take the bait, simply looking toward his head, presumably trying to meet his eyes, though neither of them could see each other's gaze under the masks.
Finally the silence had stretched long enough that Coil felt he had to reply. "I don't believe you."
She smirked again, and tipped her head in the slightest acknowledgement. "I don't expect you to. Out of curiosity, which are your greatest objections? I'll gladly address them by your priority."
It was an interesting ploy on her part, to challenge him to challenge her. "You're a hero. The Ender," he sneered the name and a sharpening of her smirk hinted at her own contempt. She also sat marginally straighter, which he supposed meant increased confidence. She'd expected that to be his objection. Time to throw her off her game. "And you'd never submit yourself to me."
Intrepid shifted slightly, unsettled by this declaration. The others held their poker faces until Contract leaned back, relaxing rather than retreating, with a cynical laugh.
"Submit? No, I wouldn't. And I won't do you the disservice of pretending you'd believe me if I protested otherwise. But that doesn't mean we can't work together."
"As a member of the Undersiders?" he mocked.
"As their replacement." She gave that statement a moment to sink in, and Coil allowed her dramatics in the interest of hearing what she would say next. "I have no interest in working with a pair of sociopathic murderers. But I honestly can't think of anything those four could do for you that my team cannot do better."
Coil wondered if Contract was simplifying Bitch's mental state, if Tattletale had lied to her, or if the mistake of calling Bitch a sociopath came from some other source. "And Grue?" he probed, assuming that if Contract knew there were two murders on his team then Tattletale had given her dossiers on the rest of the Undersiders.
Contract shrugged, still relaxed. "I have no use for a man whose leash is held by your threats."
"As opposed to your own," he answered immediately.
"Obviously," she sneered back, not missing a beat. As much as he knew this had to be a trap, it didn't feel like Contract was faking anything.
"And why would you wish to be a villain?" he asked, knowing it was expected of him. He would play to their script, while Thomas Calvert continued to try to figure out what was actually going on. There was no record of any sort of Wards investigation, but Clockblocker and Beetle had ostensibly missed school time for "essential teamwork exercises," which he didn't believe for a moment.
Contract snorted. "Why the hell would I wish to be a hero? I've received nothing from the PRT worth keeping."
"The bounties for the Endbringers are tied to your Ward trust, requiring that you graduate as a Ward if you wish to access them."
Contract's smile turned dangerous, but she didn't seem concerned that he knew about her financials. "If I wanted money, I would have held the world for ransom before I killed the Simurgh."
"If not money or accolades, what do you want?" Coil had avoided interacting with Contract as Thomas Calvert as much as possible, and hadn't done any but the barest research on her before today. He'd considered her untouchable, and so he had no idea how to move her now.
"Power," she said, frank and open. Intrepid's head twitched in a way that meant he was giving her a look of some sort. She didn't take her eyes off of Coil as she continued. "I want the kind of power you enjoy, the kind of power bought by owning eighty mercenaries and a half a dozen capes, with more on the bench as needed. I want the thrill of being the most powerful person in the city, even if no one else knows it. I want to do what I want, when I want, because I want it."
"And what is it you want to do?" he asked, bypassing the bait of her rather accurate estimates of his forces. He assumed that Tattletale had figured it out and told her, for which the girl would have to pay. Even if this wasn't a trap, her disloyalty could not be allowed.
"I want to root out the gangs, and crush petty crime in general. I want to end the slave trade, and clean up the city's prostitution. I want safe streets at night. I want a shining city and most of all, I want to do it under the noses of the Protectorate while they stand by helplessly and watch. I want to run them out of the city and prove that I killed the drug trade and I restored the shipping industry and I did what they couldn't."
Her voice was venomous, and by the end of the rant she was leaning forward, nearly spitting as she talked, she was so passionate. Even with Beetle between them, he could reach out and touch her, she was pressing so far forward. If it wasn't the truth, it was a damn good act. Of course, the best lies contained truth, so it could be both.
"I don't believe you," he replied levelly. Anger flashed on her face for a moment, obvious even under the mask, before she composed herself and sat upright again. "It doesn't make sense with your previous actions, and I don't believe they," he flicked his fingers at her cohorts, "would betray their team and put themselves at risk for such a vision."
Beetle gave a hollow laugh. Contract had been opening her mouth to say something, but after a moment of thought she gestured to Beetle. "Tell him," she commanded.
Beetle turned her head to Contract, the first time he'd seen her move, he realized, and then looked back at Coil. The yellow lenses made her whole face look inhuman. For a moment, he wondered if she might actually be a case 53, before he forced himself to focus on her mouth. It was the only human feature he could see.
"I owe the Wards nothing," she hissed, and though it should have sounded angry… it didn't. It sounded creepy. There was a rustling as she spoke that he couldn't immediately account for. "They harbored Shadow Stalker," she continued, and Coil realized that the sound was the sound of bugs, moving both on her costume and somewhere else in the pub. They were echoing, or at least accompanying, her voice.
Nothing else was immediately volunteered, and Tattletale interjected, "Shadow Stalker was a Ward when she bullied you into triggering." Contract's head turned sharply toward Tattletale, and the thinker immediately dropped her gaze, chastened. Coil noted the moment with satisfaction. Evidently Tattletale wasn't as much Contract's asset as the other cape would like him to believe.
"So to avenge one trigger event, you're going to overthrow the local government?" he scoffed. Contract could not expect him to believe this lie.
"Don't be ridiculous," Contract answered immediately, still sitting upright but far more composed than she had been when he first challenged her battlecry. "My plans were in motion long before I found Beetle. It so happened that our interests aligned, and she's appropriately grateful."
"Plans? Do tell," he drawled with just a hint of mocking. It was his experience that those who were new to power often developed a particular bad habit, known as the monologue. Those who survived long enough killed the urge as they should, but if Contract was new to playing long-term games, she may not have had the chance to unlearn bad habits yet. This, combined with her confidence, might be enough goad her into revealing more than she meant to.
Sure enough, Contract's confident smile returned. "I wasn't certain I could destroy an Endbringer, not at first," Contract said softly, settling immediately into a storytelling cadence. It was almost disappointing, how easily he could manipulate her. "Behemoth was… a test run, you might say. A gamble. But it turns out I was worried for nothing, and it all went exactly as it was supposed to."
She leaned back, and Beetle turned her head from watching Coil to watching Contract. Evidently, she hadn't heard this before. Tattletale, too, was interested, but Intrepid looked indifferent.
"I submitted to the Protectorate for a number of reasons. It was useful to let them deal with branding, PR, security and the like while I recovered and evaluated the efficacy of what I had done. I also wanted to know if I could accomplish what I needed to do from the inside. I suspected it was impossible, but I wanted to be certain.
"Finally, it guaranteed that I was marketed as an S-class cape, rather than an S-class threat. Really, I feel almost flattered that they adapted their terminology on my account. I can think of three or four other capes that ought to count as S-class even if they aren't currently a threat, and yet I appear to be in a category all on my own."
Contract smiled a Cheshire grin, and Coil waited patiently for her self-congratulation to continue. He'd wondered why a cape as powerful as Contract would allow themselves to become tangled in the PRT's web, and had to admit that the scenario she laid out was at least as plausible as any sort of "hero's obligation," which had been his working theory up to this point.
"Of course, working with the bureaucrats proved to be just as impossible as I predicted. I fed Shadow Stalker to them on a silver platter when she was genuinely guilty and met nothing but resistance and resentment for my efforts. The so-called heroes are nothing better than school children, and the PRT no more controls them than they control the gangs."
Thomas Calvert had actually witnessed the blow up between Contract, Shadow Stalker, and Renick. It certainly fit with what Contract was saying now.
"Of course," her smile turned predatory, "I got Shadow Stalker in the end. I always get what I want, one way or the other." She let that grim statement hang in the air, then like a good narrator she left the juicy hint hanging and introduced the next arc of her tale. She was a good showman, in more ways than one.
Knowing now who the capes were, it was easy to see that Intrepid had repurposed most of his original armor, simply changing the undersuit, and Contract wasn't actually wearing protection, just casual clothes worn with enough confidence to give the feel of a costume. Even so, the four of them looked complete, each of them in black with various relief in other colors. Even Beetle's costume, whose construction he couldn't make heads or tails of but which her Wards file said was made of spider silk, fit the feel as it glinted in the low light.
"The Simurgh surprised me, I admit," Contract continued, as Coil kept trying to judge her sincerity. If she was lying, she was very good, but it was more probable for her to be a good liar than for this sort of golden egg to drop into his lap. "I was hoping to find a way to nix her publically before the next attack, but I didn't expect her to escalate. A mistake, but I made it work for me."
"You shared credit with Eidolon," Coil put in, mostly to have something to say. He had been fascinated by that decision too. Even if it had been the truth, why would Contract give up power like that?
"I shared responsibility with Eidolon," Contract corrected him. "Four hundred people were dead, I wasn't going to risk having anyone put that on my head. Besides, it suits my purposes for the world to believe that I am necessary, rather than sufficient, to destroy the Endbringers. And it's not like Joe Public even paid attention to that little detail. They aren't calling Eidolon the Ender, after all."
"Was that your idea?" He wasn't sure if it would raise or lower his respect for her if it was.
She shrugged. "No. A happy coincidence. I like having a title. It makes you more than just a person. The Triumvirate, the Endbringers, the Slaughterhouse Nine," she tasted each name as she said it. "Packs a little more punch than even, say, Nilbog, even if it shouldn't. The Empire, versus Kaiser." Her voice dropped on Nilbog and Kaiser, making the names sound less even if the lack of a title didn't do it for her.
She was right, of course. It was why he had named his team "the Undersiders" even before he created the group but purposefully downplayed his own importance by ensuring all paperwork in the PRT always referred to him only as "Coil."
He inclined his head in acknowledgement, and decided to prompt her to continue her story, rather than risk them getting onto a tangent. "So you've killed the Endbringers. This seems like the worst possible time to leave the PRT. They don't need you anymore."
"Don't they?" she asked, but she didn't wait for a response. "I killed the other Endbringers before I left on purpose. Again, I needed the protection of being a recognized hero when I did so. Being powerful is dangerous, it makes you a target, and I needed the Protectorate to tout the hero banner a little longer. I rallied the public, proved that I am both a political and financial force to be reckoned with, and got the rest of my ducks in a row."
She glanced over toward Tattletale, who looked down again, but Contract continued anyway. "I settled the affairs that needed settling, and then I went to find the appropriate carrier pigeon.
"I knew the Undersiders had to have a backer," Contract bragged as she turned back to him. "And I was pretty sure that it was either you, or that you were the face of that power, but you're a little hard to approach. Dear Lisa on the other hand…" Tattletale flinched at the use of her alias. Coil suspected that Contract was subtly punishing her for volunteering the comment about Beetle's trigger.
"I ensured Lisa had the details she needed to connect Beetle to myself, then let her walk right into our hands. And here we are."
"Finally," Intrepid growled.
Contract glanced at him with slight irritation, which she turned into mocking forbearance. "So impatient, Intrepid. So little faith."
Coil raised an eyebrow, even though Contract wouldn't be able to see it. "Do tell."
Contract waved a hand in the air. "We would have contacted you days ago if it wasn't for thinker bullshit. Someone, somewhere threw a flag that I was about to, well, do exactly what I'm doing. They just didn't understand what it was they had discovered, so they thought I was in danger of being kidnapped. Clockblocker was his usual pompous-ass self and put me under protective detail. It's made arranging this little get together a bit more complicated than I would have liked, but it did prove that having two Wards and a thinker of my own does have its benefits."
That fit with the facts that Thomas Calvert had been able to pull together. As remarkable as it all seemed, it might just be true. Of course, Coil had no intention of admitting that to Contract.
"And why do you believe that I would be interested in an alliance with you?"
The question seemed to put Contract on her back foot, which fit both possible profiles; it was equally valid if she was a domineering anti-hero or if she was an undercover Ward. She then got a little offended, which fit the first profile better but wouldn't be hard to fake. "Well, you either get on board or get the hell out of my way. Your choice."
She breathed in deeply, as though to rant again, but the influx of oxygen must have actually hit her brain, because she calmed down instead. "It was my understanding of you and your actions that we had similar goals. I apologize for wasting your time." She stood, and the others stood with her, even an extremely wary Tattletale who was glancing between them rapidly.
"I didn't say I didn't," he replied, and was pleased to see that she hadn't even started to step away. She remained standing, but it didn't intimidate him. "I have two more questions, and then we may discuss terms."
She studied him for a moment, and the movement in her jaw looked like she was chewing on her tongue. Finally, she swallowed her pride and capitulated. The others sat down much more eagerly.
"First, Intrepid, why are you sacrificing a long and illustrious record as a Ward for a girl you barely know?" Everything in Intrepid's file indicated that he was a dedicated hero who believed in the PRT mission and propaganda. If this was a sting, he'd have a prepared story, but Coil wanted to hear it anyway.
Intrepid glanced at Contract, and received her nod before he answered. "I thought I'd seen a lot of shit in Texas. I've been a Ward for three years, and that adds up to a lot of field time. Not an instant of it compared to being so close to Ground Zero. Contract didn't just erase Behemoth, she restored everything as far as the eyes could see. She rewrote reality. It opened my eyes to what ought to be possible, with capes."
He glanced at her again and got another nod. He continued, trying and failing to sound casual. He was not as good of a storyteller as Contract, and Coil suspected he hadn't spoken of this much, if at all. "Coming to Brockton Bay opened my eyes a different way. I saw the politics, with Shadow Stalker. I saw how the PRT was treating Contract. I knew she wouldn't put up with it for long; no one would have." He shrugged, "I decided to pick the winning team."
It was obvious that this was nothing more than the paltry excuses a boy might tell himself. Intrepid might want to believe that he was an anti-hero, defying convention because of some vision, but he was nothing more than a lap dog. He was infatuated with a girl who was far beyond his reach, even if he didn't know it yet. His psych profiles spoke of extreme loyalty, and it was easy for Coil to see that Intrepid had simply transferred that loyalty from his Texas Wards' team to the Ender when he moved to Brockton Bay, and with good reason. There was much more to respect in Contract than in anyone else he would have found in Brockton Bay.
More importantly, this was consistent with what he'd seen of Contract so far. She inspired loyalty and submission in those around her, as a product of her power and her showmanship. She had dealt with Shadow Stalker for her own reasons, but used the incident to gain Beetle's absolute trust and put the other cape in her debt. She'd taken advantage of Intrepid's isolation in a new town to set him with her against Shadow Stalker, gaining a second follower out of that little series of events.
"Your second question?" Contract demanded.
Coil had to take a moment to remember what it had been. "If you are under protective custody, how are you here?"
Contract sniffed, and raised both hands to gesture to the Wards sitting on either side of her. "I am in protective custody. Can't you tell?"
Coil waited, familiar enough with PRT protocol that he didn't buy the flippant response. After a bit, which Coil felt somehow sure had contained an eyeroll, Contract continued. "I convinced Armsmaster that if I didn't get out of the base and into a safe house, I was going to go mad. He tried to assign a rotating guard, but I argued that the constant coming and going would only be more suspicious. The three of us are supposedly somewhere in Boston at the moment, conveniently top secret. We won't be missed until Monday."
That was a little more plausible. It wasn't standard protocol for Wards to do overnight guard duty, but Thomas Calvert knew that Contract had insisted on her own team being in charge of her security before, directly after the Simurgh had been killed. In fact, she'd left the base with just Intrepid and Beetle later that day and had to be picked up by a PRT squad, if rumor was to be believed. Perhaps, when it came to the Ender, standard protocol took a back seat. It would be interesting to know what the Youth Guard thought of that, if leverage became necessary.
Contract leaned forward, "Now, to terms." She waited, forcing him to open the discussion. Making the first offer in any negotiation was a novice mistake, so Coil started with a demand.
"I want proof of that you're not just playing with me."
"Proof of human intentions?" Contract countered with her irritating smirk, telling him that she knew exactly what he wanted and was going to make him say it.
"I'm not putting my neck on the line until you do."
The smirk widened, again pleased that he hadn't fallen into her trap. So she, too, liked to be challenged. "Did you have a particular crime you'd like us to commit?"
"There's a girl I'd like you to kidnap."
Intrepid, Beetle, and Tattletale turned to look at Contract, who leaned further forward in anticipation. "Do you know her weight and the physical location where she will be sleeping tonight?"
Coil was caught slightly flat footed by her eagerness, but didn't let it show in his response. "Yes."
"Then let's negotiate what you'll be giving up in exchange for this girl." Her team looked back towards him, evidently satisfied to allow Contract to commit them to this crime. Contract had chosen them well.
"What do you want?"
"I want a demonstration of your power. Because if you don't believe I'm willing to do what it takes to achieve my goals, then I must admit I don't believe you have what it takes to achieve yours."
"There is power not measured by the PRT's little rhymes, or isn't it that power which you seek?" Coil said, thinking over possible ways to safely demonstrate his power, if she did turn out to be trustworthy.
"If you are not who and what I think you are, then you have nothing to offer me. Men? I can hire. Money? That too is no obstacle. You're smart, but if that's all you bring to the table then you simply aren't worth an alliance." The implication that he could work for her instead was almost too much to swallow.
Still, Coil forced himself to do so. If they delivered Alcott to him, he could use her power to be sure of their intentions and the potential risks. Then he could demonstrate his power without fear.
"Bring me the girl, and I will leave you no doubts as to my usefulness," he said, allowing a little threat to creep into his voice.
Contract met his eyes seriously. "Then we have a deal. The girl will be yours by tomorrow morning."
"Not tonight?" he mocked, pressing Contract a little, mostly to see how she'd react.
Contract scoffed, covering a deeper anger that was consistent with her dominant and combative personality. "The most successful stranger kidnappings occur between ten pm and one am, just after the parents are asleep, so that's when we'll go in."
"And you don't care why I want her?"
"A physical address will give us her name. I have confidence in my ability to see her value for myself."
Coil turned that over in his mind. He'd be surprised if she could see it, actually. Dinah had come to his attention only a few days ago, and he'd barely begun to work out how he could acquire her. Yet Contract felt confident in her ability to scope out the job and the victim in eight hours. It was either the height of hubris, or a demonstration of her unusual competence. Perhaps the latter had fed the former.
Thomas Calvert used a basic web search to find the address he needed, and Coil rattled it off as though it was memorized.
"And her weight?"
"85 pounds," Coil guessed. It seemed about right for a twelve year old.
Contract nodded easily. She didn't write down either piece of information. Perhaps she expected Tattletale to remember it, though the girl had shown no sign of perfect recall before. Perhaps Contract was recording the interview, or transmitting it to another partner somewhere. Or perhaps Contract herself had a perfect memory.
"How will you do it?" he asked.
"That's our business," she replied. "I won't tell you how to run your criminal empire; kindly don't try to tell me how to run my team."
Coil felt himself glance at Tattletale without really meaning to. He must have turned his head slightly, because Contract followed his train of thought. "Unless you'd like to insist that Tattletale go back to playing nursemaid for a bunch of teenagers whose actual worth we've already established."
Coil thought that Contract calling the Undersiders a bunch of teenagers was a little rich, and he couldn't quite let that pass. "No, I agree that she's better served with this set of peers instead."
The tick in Contract's jaw said that his point had hit home, and he judged it was time to bring this discussion to a close. He had not managed to trip Contract up in any appreciable way so far, and he didn't think his chances would improve by extending the conversation. Now it would depend on her actions.
Contract evidently agreed with him. "Where shall we meet you, once we've retrieved the girl?"
Coil cocked his head, but Contract waited him out and made him ask. He assumed the powerplay was in compensation for his jab against her age. "Why not here?"
"Don't mock me," she snapped out, her temper getting the better of her. "I am not violating the truce of this place by bringing a hostage into it."
Ah, so she wasn't so mad she didn't remember whatever details Tattletale had given her about this place. It had been worth a shot. Before he could answer, she stood abruptly and again the three other teens stood with her.
"I will text you an address when it's ready," Contract said. Coil wanted to protest the heavy-handedness of that statement, but didn't. Her choice of location would reveal much and he could always argue by text if he didn't wish to meet her there.
Contract didn't wait for an answer before she swept out of the pub, her entourage behind her.
It was nearly three o'clock when Coil got to his base. Even though it was still under construction, he'd already set up the encrypted computer terminal and phone lines so it was the best place for him to lay low and try to figure out exactly what was going on.
Over the course of the next five hours, through the concerted efforts of both timelines, he eventually was able to piece together a better picture of his circumstances. By eight o'clock he had managed to confirm much of what he knew and suspected of Contract.
She was aggressively dominant, stubborn when pushed and yet cunning in a way he wouldn't normally expect of a hotheaded teenager. She was dissatisfied with the PRT, and Calvert wasn't sure who was calling the shots on her case, but several someones had clearly dropped the ball when it came to placating the Ender.
The team dynamics were also as Contract had hinted and as he himself had observed a month ago. From the beginning of her stay in Brockton Bay, there were reports submitted by every Ward except herself and Intrepid that clearly showed the separation within the team, despite trying to hide it.
Renick hadn't paid the drama as much attention as he should have, probably because the Brockton Bay Wards had always been plagued by teenage drama. They were one of the biggest Wards programs, and they faced the most stress with the least structure. It was a recipe for disaster even without a schemer like Contract in the mix.
None of this meant that she wasn't lying, of course. If you assume an ally is cunning, you must also assume that same cunning can be used against you. Statistically, it was much more likely that Contract had successfully fooled him than that she had managed to manipulate the entire PRT. On the other hand, she admitted that she hadn't been fully resolved to become an anti-hero until just recently. As soon as she had started solidifying her plans, she's been caught by the PRT thinkers, delayed, and forced to adapt. That was more plausible than a clean manipulation.
He was relatively safe in both timelines, and saw no reason to drop either one just yet. In one, Thomas Calvert had not yet responded to Tattletale's text, but had put his forces on high alert. In that universe, Contract and her team had left Somer's Rock at 4:12 PM, which probably meant that they either had some sort of check-in they had to fake, or Contract had decided that the advantage of already being in Somer's Rock wasn't worth actually waiting around in Somer's Rock all night. Given what he knew of teenagers, he suspected the latter.
In the second world, Coil was in his base, surrounded by his mercenaries, waiting for Dinah Alcott to be delivered into his hands. If Contract was being serious and honest, she had just saved him weeks of planning and risking his resources. He had dispatched one of his most discreet individuals to watch the Alcott house. He had had no surveillance in the area before, not wanting to give the precog any evidence of danger to herself in case she tried to raise concern with her family. Now, however, he needed information on Contract.
If this was some sort of semi-legal sting, with approval from Armsmaster or others, the easy way of kidnapping Dinah would simply be to have her family bring her in to the police station where Alcott would be easy to retrieve, possibly even with her parents' consent. Coil intended to see for himself, or at least through his people, if Contract tried play him in this manner.
He had confirmed, to the best of his abilities, that the only differences between the timelines were the result of his own choices. As far as he could tell, nothing had been set up requiring either his presence or absence at the PRT. Nothing had changed in the timeline in which he didn't go to work.
So he was quite surprised when the light in his kitchen clicked on and Contract's voice said, "Hello, Tom."
Thomas Calvert reflexively reached for his gun, drawing it as he stood up, whirled around, and brought it to bear on the teenager lounging in the entrance to his kitchen, backlit by the light she'd flipped on.
"Or should I call you Coil?" She was dressed almost exactly as she had been in the other timeline, but a quick glance around indicated that they were alone. He steadied his aim on her, refusing to divide his focus again. "I don't appreciate being ignored."
Coil started snapping orders to his men, raising the alert level and putting his base on lockdown just in case. Until he understood what was going on, he had to assume that Contract was double crossing him. Thomas Calvert asked his intruder, "Who are you?"
Contract tsked but answered, "I'm a new prospect." She gave him a moment to remember the text, which he didn't need, before she said, "You should have agreed to meet with me. I greatly dislike being stood up."
"Why are you in my home?" demanded Thomas Calvert, PRT employee who had not received the text meant for Coil. Coil meanwhile was urgently thinking back, trying to recall any indication that Contract had known who he was that afternoon.
"When you ignored me, I admit, I was pissed. But I was able to use the circumstances to force Tattletale to tell us who held her leash. Not that she knew you as Calvert, of course, but even the name Coil was a start. I waited, and waited, and then I got tired of waiting. I decided if you wouldn't come to me, I'd find you. Really, getting your civilian name wasn't so hard." She seemed utterly unconcerned with the gun he was holding.
Coil wanted to believe it was true, that the Contract who had met him in Somer's Rock didn't know his civilian name because he'd given her no reason to look for it, but he couldn't chance it. It was wishful thinking and nothing more. He couldn't collapse the Thomas Calvert timeline, not yet, not when his Coil self might be compromised even worse. There was also a chance that the situation could be salvaged, or that he could learn something that would help him survive in his base.
Coil pulled up the surveillance feed around his house and base, but there was no sign of anything amiss in that timeline. Not yet, anyway.
"You know," she mused, "it's ironic. I reached out to you because I wanted to escape the PRT and bring it to its knees, but it turns out you're already two steps ahead. Using the PRT for your own gains. It's impressive, really. I underestimated you, and I don't do that often."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Thomas Calvert insisted, refusing to incriminate himself.
"Sure you don't," she mocked back.
"You're trespassing in the home of a PRT officer," Thomas Calvert said, gun still steadily trained on the Ender. "Leave, now, or I will arrest you."
She laughed at that, and it sounded genuinely amused. "Go ahead," she challenged. "I'm supposed to be in Boston under protective detail. If I'm found here, in your home, you will be subjected to every master, stranger, and cape protocol in the book. Assuming you aren't shot on sight, of course. I bet those results go over real well with Piggot. So sure, call in backup. I dare you."
Thomas Calvert hovered between calling her bluff, continuing his own bluff, and giving up the game so that he could try to get more information from her. The last option made the most sense. "And what do you hope to gain, by confronting me in my own home and breaking the etiquette among capes?" he demanded, not lowering his weapon.
Contract's only sign of victory was a quirk of her mouth, a smirk that she ruthlessly suppressed. "I told you, I don't like being ignored."
"You couldn't have waited twelve hours?" he asked. Contract had repeatedly referred to his delayed response as a slight against her, which seemed unrealistic. He knew from his earlier encounter with her that she had gone to quite a bit of trouble to send that text, demanding days of preparation, but Contract had no way of knowing that he knew this. She was trying to put him on the defensive for an imagined offense, and it was time he pushed back.
"I'm under a touch of scrutiny at the moment, so no, I couldn't wait twelve hours." She glanced around the house, still apparently oblivious to the deadly threat he had raised against her. "Shall we sit?"
"You haven't even told me your name yet."
Contract shrugged. "Call me Sophie, call me Contract, call me the Ender." Coil stiffened, the closest he could come to faking surprise. He wasn't sure whether he would have recognized her without the other Wards as a reference point, and would rather have her underestimate him regardless.
Now Contract did smirk triumphantly, but she didn't straighten from where she was slouched against the wall, evidently not really caring if they sat. "You never said if you'd prefer Coil or Tom."
"It's Thomas," he snapped, deciding to call her Sophie to help himself differentiate the two encounters. He lowered the gun to his side, but didn't re-holster it.
"Thomas," she bobbed her head in agreement.
"What do you want?" he ground out, frustrated that she was able to make him feel like the supplicant in his own home.
"I told you, I'm a new prospect." Again, she baited him by not outright telling him she wanted to take over the Undersiders. She must have been practicing the conversation for awhile.
"You want to join the Undersiders?" he played along.
"Join, replace, upgrade… whatever." At least this time she didn't force him to profile her. "In my opinion, Bitch and Regent are both replaceable, more a handicap than an asset. And if you think I'm taking orders from Grue, your eyes need checking."
"You might as well declare you wish to work alone."
"Oh, I didn't say that. I've got a team, and I'd like Tattletale to be a part of it. I might even be able to find a use for Grue and the others, depending on the details. Most importantly, though, I want you to use your power to protect us as you've used it to protect them."
"Why should I?"
"I can make your vision a reality."
That was not what Coil was expecting. Sophie was playing a different face this time, less overtly commanding and more manipulative. The same undertones of control and cunning were present, but they were turned to a different persona, now.
"What would you know about my vision?"
"I know that you've been here in Brockton Bay for the better part of the last ten years. In that time, gangs have slowly gotten run off or have collapsed with unusual frequency. A city the size of Brockton Bay with only three major gangs? We're the only ones in the US. Granted, it's still a shit place to live, but you're working on that too, aren't you? You've got all sorts of infrastructure and construction companies in your portfolio.
"You've brought the drug trade under control in your territories, driving out the Merchants and turning it into a nearly respectable business. You've got the Undersiders out there poking Lung, trying to convince him to move along, which will leave the Protectorate free to go after the Empire. You're saving Brockton Bay."
It was a ridiculously rose colored view of his actions, even if the facts were mostly true. She was crediting him with slightly more than he deserved, but still well within reason. Interestingly, certain pieces echoed her earlier call to action. How much had Tattletale told her before the meeting at Somer's Rock? How much had the teenagers known then?
"Say I believe you," Coil said cautiously. "What exactly are you proposing?"
Sophie shrugged, and the motion moved her whole body because of the shoulder she still had resting against the kitchen wall. "We can help each other. I intended to throw off the shackles of the PRT and prove exactly what an S-class cape is capable of. For a myriad of reasons, I'd like to start in Brockton Bay. My job also becomes much easier if I have access to Tattletale's power, and yours. You, obviously, prefer the shadows, a luxury I no longer have."
"That doesn't answer my question," he insisted. This time it was his turn to demand first, "What is it that you want, tonight?"
"I want to see a demonstration of your power. Proof that you are what I suspect you to be." Again, she didn't actually state what power she thought he had. Coil chose not to pursue that. She leered at him confidently, "What is it going to cost me?"
"Dinah Alcott."
"I'm not familiar with the name," Sophie said, sounding honestly confused.
"She's a twelve year old girl and the niece of the mayor."
"Leverage? Really? Wouldn't blackmail be simpler?" she asked. "Or at least kidnapping his daughter, for that matter?"
"Why I want Dinah is not your concern," he corrected her.
Her face cleared in understanding. "Ah. Another cape." Well, credit where credit was due, she was quick. "Mental power, or physical?"
He debated whether to tell her, then decided to see how she reacted. "Mental."
"If I have her here by 4 AM, will you demonstrate your power, or do you need more time to prepare?"
Again, Sophie didn't seem at all worried about getting a girl kidnapped in an eight hour time frame, even knowing she had a thinker power to work against.
"You can't bring her here," he protested.
Sophie huffed and again he got the distinct impression she was rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see them. "Then give me a different address."
"I'll text it to you."
"And leave me holding the kidnapped niece of the mayor with nowhere to go? No, thank you," Sophie scoffed. He'd been hoping to goad her into using her own location, but she was being more conservative in this conversation. Perhaps she wouldn't have time to prepare it.
"You're that confident that you'll succeed?"
"That's really more my problem than yours, isn't it?" She pressed on not waiting for an answer. "You didn't say before - will this morning work or will you need more time?"
He was tempted to say he'd need time to prepare, to force her to kidnap the girl at midnight as he assumed she intended to do and then hold her for eight or nine hours until the family realized she was missing, but he wouldn't really gain anything in that situation except satisfaction. "I'll be ready."
She nodded. "See that you are."
He sensed that the conversation was coming to a close, and he didn't want to miss an opportunity to fish for more information. "Why?" She cocked her head, the cape equivalent of raising an eyebrow when one's mask covered one's face, so he elaborated. "Why would you want to be a villain?"
Her smile was sharp, and she didn't puff up in pride as she had earlier. Some of that show must have been for the benefit of the other teens. "Who says I haven't always been a villain?"
"That's not an answer," he pressed.
Sophie shrugged again. She was more tired now, a lot of her bravado and posturing gone. "I have gotten all I can from the PRT. All that is left is for them to suck me dry. I have no intention of martyring myself for a bureaucracy so screwed up that it's run by the very parahumans it claims to control."
She snorted. "As though I can or should be controlled." There was that dominance again. It had been far less evident in this second conversation, but Coil was starting to suspect that neither encounter had really been an act.
Coil inclined his head in silent agreement. "We still haven't agreed on a meeting place. I have a base of operations under construction. It isn't finished, but it should suit our purposes."
"Text me the address," she said, piquing his interest. Contract had shown no concern at needing to memorize an address, but Sophie wanted it texted to her.
"I'd like to meet your teammates as well," he told her as she straightened up.
Sophie paused, and he could feel her eying him, judging him. "I would have liked to get an answer."
So they were back to his having ignored her text. As an authoritative personality, it rankled her that he hadn't responded to her power play. "At least give me their names."
"They'll be there with me. I'll text you when the job is done and we're on our way."
"I'm surprised your team agreed to this little confrontation. Most capes hold civilian identities as sacred."
She scoffed, again. "I don't need their permission to do anything."
"They don't know you're here," he guessed.
She inclined her head. "They reacted about how you'd expect when I first hinted at this plan. I let sleeping dogs lie, at the time. If I'd told them I was going to find your name and house to pay my respects after you stood us up, they'd accuse me of allowing myself to be provoked into rash behavior."
"How ridiculous," Coil drawled in reply. She laughed lightly at that. It was doubly ironic. First because she had, in fact, been provoked into her current course of action. Beneath that, though, was the contrast that even having been provoked, she wasn't rash. She'd confronted a powerful villain in his own home and still not only gotten what she wanted, but seemed comfortable doing it.
"I'm glad you see it my way," Sophie joked back. She sighed, sounding a little reluctant, then said, "I suppose I ought to get going. Crime to plan, and all."
"Good luck," he said mostly to have the last word. She gave him a sharp smile, but didn't reply. Instead, she turned back to the kitchen, planted both hands on the counter, and managed to slide out of his kitchen window as simply as though she was walking through a door. Coil turned to his computer, pulled up his surveillance, and watched the cameras on the exterior of his house.
She pulled a ski mask over her head, covering her blond hair and visor and making it much harder to see her in the dark night. Then she strode away quickly, not glancing around but not stopping either. He continued watching the feed for a long time, but never saw any signs of anyone else leaving, so if she'd had hidden back up it had been outside his camera range. Beetle, perhaps, depending on the radius of her power. More likely she had been alone, as she claimed.
Even as Coil was at home, working discover out how Sophie had known his identity and when she'd figured it out, Coil was sitting in his base with his fingers steepled in front of him, thinking.
It was possible to explain Contract's actions self-consistently. In both timelines, she comes into contact with Tattletale, perhaps through Tattletale's ambition or perhaps through her own schemes as she claimed, and guesses or is told that the Undersiders have a sponsor. Contract decides she wants to meet this sponsor, to petition for his support for her own plans and team.
In one timeline, this ploy is successful. This success makes her proud, which increases her aggression. She brings her entire team as a show of force, and postures her way through their encounter. She's in neutral territory, she's just enjoyed the success of forcing him to meet with her, she has her own two minions to control, his minion to impress, and himself to sway.
In the other timeline she is ignored. She wastes hours of time on grandstanding that comes to nothing, except perhaps to convince Tattletale to give up details about the sponsor, if Contract's story can be trusted. Contract then takes her team somewhere else, and within four hours has found Coil's true name. She learns that the sponsor is not only a powerful villain but a PRT captain.
This feeds her contempt of the PRT, increases her estimation of him, but also gives her reason for caution. She approaches him alone, relying on her wit to pique his interest instead of her earlier shows of force. She has greater reason to believe he will agree with her cause, but also a more precarious negotiating position, so she is more cautious, less the showman and more the chess player. She gives him far less information, perhaps viewing him as a more dangerous opponent.
It is a neat theory, it fits the facts as he knows them and explains Contract's behavior. It is self-consistent with what she told him and what he observed in both timelines.
That being said, given the information he had from both timelines before she entered his house, he would not have expected her to do what she did. If you cannot predict your opponent's actions, then you likely do not have enough information to explain them after the fact, either.
But what would be her purpose, if it wasn't what she pretended? There was no need to trap him into conspiracy for kidnapping, if what he'd done was even considered conspiracy, because there were already arrest warrants out for him. A sting operation should have closed in on him as soon as he'd confirmed himself as Coil in the second timeline, and yet a review of the footage of his house showed that she'd come alone.
Contract had climbed his back fence, leapt nimbly from the fence to his roof, then laid on her belly to reach the electrical box for his security system. In this way, she'd avoided the pressure pad in front of it. Inspection of the work she left behind showed that she hadn't disabled the alarms, which would have triggered a secondary circuit. Instead, she'd spliced in a lightbulb, and disconnected all the wires which sent alerts to his house, computer, and cell phone. Then she'd strolled over to his kitchen window, slid it open silently, and disappeared into his house.
If it wasn't a sting operation, and it wasn't an honest defection, what was left? Spying? If Tattletale had told them anything, he was certain she would have told them about his ability to root out spies, secrets, and lies. He could believe that Contract was a consummate liar, but the other two teens?
Granted, neither had said much during their meeting in the first timeline and neither had been present in the second. Unfortunately, that fit equally well with the theory the Wards were lying to him as it did the theory that Contract was a dictatorial rebel.
There was something about Contract's declaration of rebellion that felt real to him. It was so… typically teenager. Her idealistic goals, her condemnation for the entire PRT organization based on the case of Shadow Stalker alone, her arrogant willingness to kidnap a twelve year old for her own purposes, it all smelled like a teenager with a lot of power who was eager to finally slip her leash and use it.
Even the speed at which Contract expected everything to happen - she was disturbed by a delay of eight hours? Really? So disturbed she broke the unwritten rules? - was a symptom of classic teenage impatience. The posturing, the self-assertion, even trying to steal Tattletale from him were basic social maneuvers that teenage girls in particular seemed to relish among their peers.
It was a nice story. Every detail accounted for, every motive explained.
But was it true? Coil wasn't sure if there was any way to tell except to wait and see if she brought him Dinah.
Coil hadn't chosen the crime at random, when he'd twice insisted that Contract kidnap the precog. Assuming she was sincere, the advantages were innumerous. It forced Contract to absorb the risk of discovery and complications of power tricks from the new trigger. It gave him a chance to observe Dinah's power, and to see how or if Contract's apparent precog-resistance counteracted it.
It was also the best crime he could think of to test her degree of commitment and candor. Kidnapping a little girl was pretty high on society's list of despicable acts, particularly a girl who was innocent and whom Contract had reason to believe was going to be used for her powers, which she was. More tellingly, there was no way that the PRT, Protectorate, or Wards would sanction bringing a twelve year old civilian into a sting operation, even a powered one. If Contract showed up with Dinah, it would prove that she was at least working outside the law.
That didn't guarantee that she didn't intend to betray him, of course, but it would at least mean that she didn't have squads of backup on call.
For now, there was nothing to do except wait. The Coil sitting at home texted the location of his base to Sophie, then left for his bunker to wait for her reply. He would spend the time trying to trace how and when she'd discovered his secret identity.
The Coil sitting in his base checked his phone again, still seeing no message from Contract indicating that she'd chosen a meeting location. She was likely going to force him to come without giving him time to prepare. It was both good planning and another show of dominance. He'd let her have her games. If he didn't like how it went, he'd drop the timeline and revert to the Sophie reality.
Coil didn't want to do that. He was itching to drop the world in which he had conclusive proof that someone knew his identities, but he couldn't move too soon. Destroying the secondary world meant committing himself to his earlier encounter, and giving up the chance to discover how Sophie had discovered his name. Additionally, there were advantages in having timelines which were widely divergent. If Contract or Sophie did betray him, it was extremely unlikely she'd manage to do it simultaneously after such different beginnings.
It was safer to keep the lines separate, and so he would.
You could never be too careful.