Chapter Fifty-One: Mercenary
April 27, 2011
Faultline lashed out, her fingers trailing devastation. Beside her, the Ender grinned, seeming not to care that Kaiser's metallic tentacle had nearly skewered her.
"Good shot!" the blond teenager crowed, using a hand wave to telekinetically move a car to intercept Kaiser's next strike.
"This isn't the place for banter," Faultline shot back, focusing on the fight. She could see Newter out of the corner of her eye, but Gregor was further away, around a corner and out of sight. She'd just have to trust him to handle himself.
For a moment, she wondered if this job was really worth it. Spitfire was in the hospital, and Newter was still feeling guilty for something that was absolutely not his fault. He covered it with bravado, but the desperation of his fighting style gave him away.
She hadn't expected the fighting to be this bad. When he had hired them, Accord had warned her that it would be the Empire they were fighting, but he hadn't said anything about this level or persistence of violence. The last two days had been horrible, really horrible, for anyone near any of the fighting areas.
Faultline had a suspicion that Accord had known what was coming, even if he didn't choose to say anything. If Faultline and her crew hadn't intervened in the very first conflict in the ABB territory, it was entirely possible that the Protectorate would have been decimated, either by being forced to split their forces too thin, or else by being forced to engage with Lung. When Accord had told her that she was to put the Protectorate in her debt (and thereby in his debt), Faultline had been skeptical of how effective his plan would really be.
Now, however, the chances of success seemed far better. Without Faultline and her Crew, the past few days would have been much worse, and everyone knew it.
Accord's instructions were to refuse to engage with the Protectorate until the situation seemed to be calming down, and then to use the leverage of their assistance to request to speak with Contract. Faultline spared another glance for the much younger cape, who had just telekinetically pushed Kaiser back several yards, right into the path of some of his unpowered minions' gunfire.
Given the thinning of the Empire's ranks, perhaps it was time to issue her request. The city wasn't calm yet- not by any means- but who knew when it would be? Better to at least the lay the groundwork now.
April 28, 2011
Faultline did not jump when the burner phone buzzed. She'd stopped being surprised by the success of Accord's plans after the first day of madness. Instead, she simply flipped it open to read the incoming text.
As expected, it was from the contact named "Contract," the number from a burner phone which Faultline had mailed to the PRT, care of the Ender. She told herself that she wasn't surprised the phone had been delivered, even given the state of the city. It was Accord's plan, after all.
The text itself was surprising.
Contract: Truce meeting with Kaiser at 6:00 PM. Boat Graveyard. Interested?
Accord had predicted that Contract would be willing to meet with Faultline after the events of the weekend were settled. That had, after all, been his intent in hiring her crew. He had not warned her that she would be invited to witness the conflict's endgame. Faultline replied to the text; her number, the only number in the burner's contact list, was already labeled "Friend."
Friend: Who's offering?
Contract: It's me, I promise. No good way to prove it over text, of course, but when we met yesterday, I told you "good shot." You told me that fighting wasn't the time for witty banter.
Contract: It wasn't banter, by the way. I was trying to say thank you. You left before I got the chance.
Faultline remembered the exchange, and the incongruity of it. Seeing Contract fight had not been at all like Faultline had expected. The girl was fast, pre-cognitively fast maybe, and had an eye for the battlefield, but she hadn't been a one-man army. Faultline had stepped up to save her from an attack on her less-dominant left side, and Contract had flashed her a cocky grin.
Friend: I will be there if you want me to be.
Contract: Just offering. If you'd prefer to meet up after, that could be arranged too.
And there was the offer Accord had anticipated, the reason she and her team had been hired to stay in Brockton Bay in the first place.
Friend: I accept, for both offers.
Contract: Not that there will be trouble, but just in case, I suggest you don't come alone. No one else will be.
Faultline read the message several times, before finally just shaking her head. She couldn't remember ever being invited to a secret meeting and being told to bring more people.
"Good news?" Gregor asked from the doorway, where he was standing and watching her.
"Get the team ready. We're going to the truce talks at six."
"Even Elle?" Gregor double checked. Faultline sighed, and weighed her options..
It had been a good day for Elle so far, but there was no reason to push the poor girl if she wasn't necessary. Perhaps it would be better to split the team up. If Kaiser to didn't obey the truce - and even weak and wounded she half expected that he wouldn't - it would be better not to be in a single, expected location.
"You, Newter, and I will be at the truce. The rest will head for Boston immediately."
Gregor inclined his head in acknowledgement and left. Faultline re-read the messages, and then put the phone away. It was time to finish this job.
Faultline carefully timed their journey so that they arrived at the Boat Graveyard ten minutes before six. They parked the van behind one of the outermost wrecks, and then made their way on foot toward the sounds of the Protectorate.
They found the heroes only minutes later; Armsmaster and Miss Militia were expected, Eidolon and Purity less so but still not surprising. Faultline almost didn't spot Contract at first, since she was off to one side slightly away from the others.
On one hand, it was an astounding show of firepower. Eidolon was, well, Eidolon; Purity was frequently compared to Legend, and Contract was the Ender, with all that title implied. Even if her claims of needing Eidolon's help to handle the Endbringers were true, he was right there. Beside these three, Miss Militia and Armsmaster seemed to pale, when neither possessed a power or personality to sneeze at.
On the other hand, Faultline wasn't sure why the place wasn't swarming with PRT squads and the full Protectorate roster. Kaiser hadn't exactly been obeying the rules, these past few days. When one party broke cape code, it opened the door for retaliation. It was almost expected, really.
Faultline stepped forward first. She drew the heroes' full attention as soon as she emerged from the shadows, with the notable exception of Contract. Although it probably wasn't conscious, the other four heroes turned to face her and her team and closed ranks.
In deference to their nervousness, she stood her ground rather than advancing. She'd dealt with a number of powerful capes in her position as team leader, and she wasn't interested in antagonizing anyone here at the moment. She felt Gregor and Newter come up on either side of her, but they too waited patiently for the heroes to take them in.
There was a long, awkward moment of silence. Then Contract, who had been staring out at the Bay obliviously, turned to look back at the heroes. When she saw Faultline, she smiled widely and strode across the gravelly sand to greet her.
"I'm glad you came," she said, extending her hand. There were only a few feet between the heroes and Faultline's crew, and she crossed the no-man's land easily, seemingly unaware of the others' caution.
"Thank you for the invitation," Faultline answered, shaking the Ender's hand firmly but briefly.
She hadn't been entirely sure that the Protectorate knew she'd been invited, but the heroes were more wary than surprised, and Contract wasn't at all timid as she extended her hand to Gregor. With barely a hesitation, he shook it. Newter slipped his hands into his pockets to preempt a shake of his own just in case, but Contract didn't reach out to him.
Contract shrugged off the appreciation. "You did your part, and were targeted in turn. Truce doesn't do much good anyway unless the whole city will honor it."
Before Faultline could answer, Armsmaster's head turned to the north and Contract's followed like a magnet. Given that they were both wearing visors, Faultline assumed that someone had just sent them a message. The heroes reoriented themselves, Contract filling the gap between Faultline's Crew and the Protectorate so that the eight of them presented a united front to the approaching capes.
Kaiser brought all of his remaining firepower. Night and Fog flanked him on either side, with Alabaster further left, protecting Fog's slower power and the group's weaker edge. Menja, alone, brought up the rear. It was unsettling to see her without her sister.
If Faultline's Crew hadn't shown up, the Protectorate and Empire would have been evenly matched, five-on-five, in bodies if not in cape power. As it was, the imbalance of power could not be ignored.
That's not to say Kaiser didn't try, of course. He spoke just as he came to a stop, his group stopping with him, trying to use the change of momentum to subconsciously emphasize his voice. "Where is my son?"
Faultline was reminded of the interview Contract had given when Coil's list was leaked. She'd called Kaiser an excellent showman, and he was. Even here, with an audience that needed no persuasion to hate or love him, he was the consummate performer.
"He's been granted sanctuary," Miss Militia replied. Kaiser began to answer just as she tacked on, "by his own request."
The interruption was petty, perhaps, but Faultline didn't deny that it felt good to watch Kaiser have to begin again. "Pretty words to hide the fact that he's a hostage," Kaiser eventually countered. "How do you think the world will respond to you illegally separating a child from his father?"
Miss Militia's eyes narrowed. "Your son has been legally removed from a harmful home environment following trauma sustained there."
Kaiser had already opened his mouth when the last bit of her sentence registered. "Trauma?" he asked, a little weakly. His tone was that of a concerned father - a complete disconnect with his costume and teammates, who drove home the image of bloodthirsty, racist gang leader.
Miss Militia didn't answer Kaiser immediately, and his concern grew nearly palpable in return. It was Contract who finally explained. "He triggered."
Kaiser visibly flinched, even though he had to have been bracing himself. Alabaster and Menja both stood a little straighter, but Kaiser managed to recover quickly. Perhaps, if they couldn't see his face, they hadn't registered his reaction.
"You're lying."
"She's not," Armsmaster countered. "Your son has been granted sanctuary under the Child Protection Act of 1992. He will not be returning to your care. That is not open for discussion."
Kaiser visibly bristled. "You have no right-"
"You attacked high schoolers less than a day ago," Miss Militia said. "Do you really think the law will return him to you?" She didn't leave the question hanging. "You requested this truce, Kaiser. We granted it for one reason: to tell you it is time to leave Brockton Bay. If you remain, upon capture, you will be sent straight to the Birdcage. The Chief Director has already signed the order."
Faultline was glad for the mask that let her raise her eyebrows without notice. Birdcage orders were relatively rare - typically a cape was either dangerous enough to warrant a kill order, or else safe enough to stand trial.
"You can't -"
Miss Militia spoke right over Kaiser's protests. "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. The truce you requested expires at midnight tonight. If you are still in my jurisdiction at that time, you will be in the Birdcage by morning. Now are you going to stand here, arguing, or are you going to make the most of your time?"
"You came after us in our civilian identities. I saw the warrants. I can be very persuasive - you do not want me to take this to the media. How will it look to every other villain out there? The PRT promises to play fair and ignore the list, and then within a week the Empire is hunted down, my son taken from me, and me sentenced to the Birdcage without a trial! You will have bloodshed within the hour."
Purity stepped forward. "If you try it, it will be you the media eviscerate. I have been unmasked - I will tell them who you are, and I will tell them that you beat me. I will tell them that I was blackmailed into the Empire by you, personally, and that I barely escaped your abuse, driven by fear for my life and my child's. Theo has promised to testify as well. Try anything, and your name will be mud."
"You lying whore!" Kaiser accused.
"It won't matter," Purity said with smug vindictiveness. "I will make them hate you. Some might forgive you for being a Nazi bastard, but a wife beater and a rapist too? A child abuser? They'll call the Birdcage merciful - better than you deserve. They'll scream for your blood."
As threats went, it was not the most graphic that Faultline had ever heard. For sheer enom and level intimidation, however, it was pretty good. It was plausibly within Purity's power to deliver, it struck at Kaiser's strength- persuasion- and it undermined his current position.
Kaiser apparently thought so too, because he didn't answer her immediately. He glanced over at Faultline, who met his gaze squarely through the eyeholes of his mask, though the chance he could see even the shadows of her face through the welding mask were slim. She hated Kaiser on general principle and decentness, and didn't have a problem with Purity's threats. If it ended the violence and madness of the last few days, the woman was welcome to any lie or truth she wished.
"Midnight?" Kaiser finally asked, turning back to Miss Militia.
"Midnight," she intoned.
Kaiser hesitated another moment, perhaps trying to judge if the heroes were bluffing. Then he turned and waved a hand almost negligently and his team retreated cautiously, keeping the heroes in their sights.
The Protectorate waited, watching him. When the last of the Empire was around the corner, Eidolon glanced at Purity. She immediately rose into the air and shot off over the Bay. Towards New York, Faultline realised a little bit later. She was probably going to support Legend. If Kaiser was going to try to escape to Europe - and that's what she would in his shoes - New York was the easiest international harbor for him to reach. Brockton Bay and Boston both had too little international traffic, too easily monitored. New York was by far an easier escape.
Then Eidolon then exchanged a curt nod with Miss Militia and teleported away, leaving only local heroes to deal with Faultline and her crew. It was an interesting move. It put the two parties at numerical equality, though Faultline wouldn't have liked her odds if she was planning on causing trouble. Still, the casual arrogance of dismissing two heavy hitters made it clear that the Protectorate wasn't worried about her intentions, which was almost insulting. Faultline chose to see it as a sign of good faith, instead.
"I wanted to thank you for your help," Contract said, breaking the ice. She was still closer to Faultline than she was to Armsmaster or Miss Militia, but both adults had long-range firepower at their disposal if necessary.
"I'll pass that along to our employer," Faultline said steadily.
Contract smiled, and though it wasn't unfriendly, exactly, it was a little sharp. "I don't suppose you're here to tell me his name?"
His name, Faultline noted with interest. Did the Protectorate suspect Accord, or was Contract just fishing? Faultline quoted the line which seemed to fit the situation the best, out of the list Accord had given her. "Our employer requested we maintain his anonymity."
"What can you tell me?"
"He requested I pass on a message, in person." Accord had actually specified two messages: one to be given if there was an audience other than her own team, and a longer one for Contract alone, if it could be managed.
"You have my attention," Contract admitted.
"He will pay any price to speak with you regarding New York City."
Contract didn't respond immediately, and her posture didn't shift in any way as she carefully considered those words. It was finally Miss Militia who broke the thoughtful silence. "What interest does your employer have in the Endbringers?"
Faultline just shrugged, but Contract's head tipped to the side, and Faultline thought the younger woman might have caught just as much from her silence as she would have from a verbal deflection.
"It's not about the Endbrigners, is it? It's about the healing."
Faultline nodded, confirming Contract's guess. She hoped it was a guess - it was always possible that the Ender was a thinker of some sort in addition to her other powers.
"Is it just your employer who wishes to discuss New York?" Contract inquired. Faultline wasn't sure how to answer that. She wanted so badly to talk to Contract about the healing that had happened on January 31st. She just wasn't sure what could or should be said in front of others, even Contract's own teammates.
Finally, it was Gregor who answered. "What do you know of Gwerrus?" he rumbled. Contract didn't seem surprised by the question.
"I know she disappeared on February 1st," Contract said immediately, leaving no doubt that she understood Gregor's intent in asking. Miss Militia shifted uncomfortably, and Armsmaster's fingers twitched. Contract looked towards her leader, explaining, "Gwerrus was a Case 53 who was in New York City on the day Behemoth was destroyed. No one has seen her since."
"She was healed of her Case 53 traits," Armsmaster supplied.
"Presumably. The healing restored people to the best versions of themselves according to their own personal view. Assuming she disliked her case 53 appearance, it's very possible she could have been made closer to a baseline human. She made a few comments on PHO that seemed to indicate that had happened. Then she suddenly vanished. I didn't find out until it was too late to do anything about it, assuming that anything could have been done." Contract turned back to Gregor. "New York City was a unique occurrence. I've never done the like before or since."
"That's not to say you couldn't," Gregor replied evenly. He was taking her rejection quite well, considering that she was writing off his chance for a normal life.
"Alright, I can't repeat what I did in New York City."
"I am not a city," Gregor answered her. Faultline suspected the insistence was more from desperation than an attempt at persuasion. Without an idea of how Contract's powers worked, there was no reason to suspect that the size of the healing would matter.
The Ender pursed her lips but didn't respond directly. "Gwerrus most likely died. You get that, right?" It wasn't a protest, not exactly. Was it possible then? To heal a single person if not a whole city? Did scale matter?
"You believe there was something wrong with your healing?" Newter challenged.
"I don't think the healing and disappearance were unconnected," she hedged. "I strongly advise you to walk away from this line of inquiry." Faultline could have told her that wouldn't work. The Ender seemed to be hinting that there were greater forces at work, forces like those that had kidnapped the monstrous capes from their homes and remade them. But if whoever was making the monstrous capes had recaptured Gwerrus, Gregor would risk it. He might even welcome the chance to confront them.
Faultline caught a glimpse of Gregor out of the corner of her eye as he looked first to Newter, and then back to Contract. "I would pay any price," he said steadily, confirming Faultine's suspicions. He too had sensed that Contract's protests were changing, and that her resolve was weakening.
"Gwerrus was only asked for one," Contract shot back, almost menacing.
Gregor didn't change his manner in the slightest. "I would gladly die as myself."
At this, she laughed bitterly. "I know the feeling." Both supervising adults looked at her sharply for that, but she seemed oblivious or immune to their disapproval.
"Then you'll do it?" Gregor asked. To the heroes, he probably still sounded calm, but Faultline could detect the control in his tone, hinting at his deep desire.
"No."
Gregor visibly flinched at her flat refusal. "No?"
"No. I understand your willingness, but I won't be complicit in your death."
"It is my choice -"
"Actually, it's mine. And I won't add your name to the list of my regrets." Her face softened slightly, and her tone became marginally less unyielding. "I'm sorry."
Gregor spread his hands out in clear supplication. "Will nothing change your mind?"
She opened her mouth, then hesitated. "I will consider the question at some length."
Gregor hesitated too, and Faultline could see him trying to weigh whether she could be pushed any further. In the end, he inclined his head gravely, accepting this thin assurance. "Until then, if you ever need help..."
Contract seemed surprised. "I just refused you your greatest wish."
Gregor shrugged. "You won't change your mind if you're dead. I can wait. You are the first hope I have ever found."
"We have found." Newter corrected.
Contract smiled. "I would not wish to give you false hope by calling in a debt I haven't yet paid for."
Armsmaster shifted his weight. It could just be that they'd been standing for some time now, but the motion felt deliberate. It drew Contract's attention, and then there was a pause. Faultline assumed that they were communicating electronically.
After a bit, she turned back to Gregor. "That being said, I appreciate your offer. If I need you, or something else changes, I will let you know."
For his part, Gregor nodded intently again, resigning himself to the disappointment. Faultline had warned him that it was a long shot - if Contract didn't regularly replicate the restoration and healing she'd displayed in NYC there was probably a good reason for it, and any restriction on natural healing would likely be worse when it came to Gregor and others like him.
Really, she was surprised that Contract hadn't declared it flatly impossible, true or not. It was obviously not something she had ever intended to repeat.
Contract looked back to Faultline, meeting her gaze. "Will you be remaining in Brockton Bay?"
"No. The situation here is a little more volatile than is good for business."
Contract inclined her head. "Do pass my compliments to your employer. I assume he'll let me know when travel arrangements have been made."
That earned her another pair of disapproving looks from the Protectorate co-leaders, and Armsmaster shifted again. Faultline decided to withdraw while she was ahead. "Of course."
"Be safe," Contract offered in farewell.
"And yourself," Faultline said as she turned away.
Behind her, she heard Gregor rumble, "Contract."
She replied, equally solemn, "Gregor."
If Newter offered a goodbye, it wasn't verbal. The three of them walked back to their van in silence, and maintained that silence until they were just a few minutes from where they would meet up with the rest of the crew.
"Do you think she'll relent?" Newter asked Gregor.
"Perhaps," Gregor said, after weighing the question for some time, though Faultline doubted he'd thought of much else since the meeting.
"What are you going to do?" Newter pressed, sounding surprisingly young. Newter usually coped with his lot in life by acting like an irreverent twenty-something, but now he sounded like a lost teenager.
"Wait. And be ready."
Newter mulled that over, and then nodded.
Moments later, they pulled up at the rendezvous, changed vehicles, and continued their journey towards Boston with the rest of the team. Accord had some local jobs for them, and then he'd promised to arrange their passage to Miami where they could look for new work. To the best of her knowledge, neither Gregor nor Newter told the others what they'd learned, which she approved of.
For the first time in a very long time, there was reason to hope. A reversal was possible. It could be done. Contract seemed to understand how much it meant to Gregor, and had been sincerely pained to deny him. But it wasn't a solution, not yet. The forces working against them were more powerful than she'd guessed. Even Contract had believed that healing Gregor was somehow tantamount to him being taken or killed by an enemy.
Whether Gwerrus had disappeared at the hands of the people who had created her and Gregor, or someone else entirely, the fact remained that Contract was not confident in her ability to outmaneuver the enemy. Coming from the Ender, that was not comforting news.
Faultline would tell the rest of the Crew soon. After she'd had a chance to think over the conversation a few more times and try to catch any other hidden meanings. After she'd gone back through PHO, and ensured there was nothing else to learn about Gwerrus and her fate. When the time was right, then she would offer her team hope. But not just yet.
Still, it was one more piece of the puzzle. One more data point. One more clue. With any luck, the next piece would be waiting for them in Miami.
First, they needed to satisfy their agreement with Accord.
May 1, 2011
The text was unexpected. Faultline had mostly forgotten about the burner phone after talking with Contract. She had little doubt that Contract's phone was being put to good use - surely Accord had planted it in her hands so that he could use it to arrange the details of the meet-up he wanted - but hers was basically useless.
So she was surprised when she received another message from Contract.
Contract: Tell Gregor that if he still wants the same things a year from now - and if he's still willing to risk sharing Gwerrus' fate, whatever that may be - that he'll have his wish.
Faultline stared at the texted, perplexed.
Friend: Thank you.
And although she was grateful, Faultline was not the sort to accept good fortune blindly. Particularly when it came to her people, Faultline wanted to know what they were getting themselves into.
Friend: You were very adamant, before. What changed?
Contract: I've been where Gregor is now. I've wanted things so desperately that I would do anything to achieve a particular end. It's a dangerous place to be, particularly for too long. So now he has an endpoint in sight.
Friend: Why a year?
Contract: It has to do with power mechanics. A year was the best I could do for him.
Friend: I'll tell him.
Contract: Thank you. Will you keep this number?
Friend: Would you like me to?
Contract: Yes, I would.
Friend: Then I will.
Contract: Thank you.
Friend: It's the least I can do. Thank you, for Gregor.
No reply came, and Faultline set the phone back down, staring at it. She had not expected to hear from Contract again, and especially had not expected her to relent from her refusal to heal Gregor. She had been so resolute, despite her empathy, that it made Faultline wonder why she'd changed her mind. Although Contract's explanation sounded sincere, it didn't seem like quite enough either.
Had Armsmaster persuaded Contract to hold them in her debt with Gregor's restoration as the ultimate leverage? Was it honestly a problem of figuring out power mechanics? Had someone else in the PRT advised her that Faultline and her crew would be good allies to have?
Whatever it was, Faultline would just have to wait and see. For now, she had good news to give to Gregor. She'd have to talk to Newter and the others and see what they wanted to do. While Newter did want answers to his situation, he lacked the devotion and drive that Gregor had for the truth.
She should also try to find out more of what Contract might know about Gwerrus. Did she know who had kidnapped her? Way did she seem sure that Gwerrus was now dead? Why was she so sure that the same people that had gone after Gwerrus would also attack Gregor?
Those were questions for another day, however. Maybe then she could discover more of what the hero wanted, and get a few more details on what, exactly, they could expect in a year. For now, she had a heist to plan, and future jobs to scout.