1.15

-- Tanya von Degurechaff --

"We could just wait? He has to come out eventually," Lisa proposed.

"I don't like that. Too many ways for things to go wrong. Getting spotted. Other people finding Jack and Bonesaw. And he probably won't leave until after they do, so we'd lose them unless we're willing to risk following."

"Could you just blow through the ceiling?"

I thought about it. Artillery spells weren't great at piercing bunkers. The anti-armor variant was intended for tanks, not meters of earth or concrete. Granz's whole company couldn't crack the Kremlin during our Moskva raid.

But an underground parking area wasn't a bunker. It had surely been built as cheaply as possible while meeting the requirements of its use case, which presumably didn't include weathering bombardment.

"Probably."

"The lot's under the apartment building," Skitter clarified.

That complicated things. I glanced over the structure' It left much to be desired. Ugly and squat, in serious disrepair. A tenement, practically. It didn't exactly look sturdy, either. Brick exterior, probably just wood frame and drywall inside. In all likelihood, it had also been built as cheaply as possible while meeting the requirements of its use case. Still, artillery spells detonated on contact, and each layer we had to go through would give the Master more time to react.

"How quickly can he summon Siberian to protect him?"

"Too little to go on. Maybe he can only do the teleport trick when the projection is destroyed, maybe it happens reflexively whenever he's hurt. But in that case he really is unkillable. We'll have to assume it's at will."

Hmm. Well, if Siberian's true nature is secret, he probably isn't prepared for someone targeting him personally. And he'll probably be hesitant to reveal his power. And his senses are probably dampened. Altogether, it might be enough. Might. And if it wasn't, we'd never get another chance.

No, worse: I'd previously considered Siberian a threat worthy of some respect, but if she could truly teleport at will, and stopped trying to hide that fact... There wasn't much I could do about that. And we'd already killed several of their teammates... No, there was no room for half measures here.

Fortunately, there was another option. Normal artillery spells could only pack so much magic into a rifle bullet, but solidified manna was orders of magnitude denser. With the Type 95 I could effectively pack a lengthy bombardment into a single spell. I wasn't happy about it, but if the cost of survival was a few muttered words, so be it.

"I'll handle it. Skitter, describe exactly where he is and be ready to search the bar for Jack once he's dead. Koenig, get into position to kill Jack once Skitter locates him."

I blinked at the rapidly forming bug crosshair a couple meters in front of me. There was even a second component behind it to ensure I got the angle right.

"I'll light the firefly on your muzzle when you're lined up."

That was certainly convenient. I readied my rifle and mentally prepared myself for the switch to the Type 95.

"Ah, Colonel?"

Weiss sounded like he was walking on eggshells. What was that about? Surely he knew by now I wasn't the sort of boss who'd bite his head off over a suggestion?

"Yes, Major?"

"Perhaps Skitter could handle this situation with less... collateral damage?"

The crosshair dissolved in an instant.

"Wait, you were..." She poorly stifled a sigh. "Please let me know beforehand when you want to blow up a building. I can evacuate the people inside."

Oh. There were actually people in there? Why? I glanced around. I guess the other options don't look much better. Though, really, was evacuation worth the risk? What if someone screamed at the appearance of a B movie sentient bug swarm and drew the Nine's attention? And Siberian probably killed more people in a month…

I shook my head, derailing that particular train of thought.

No. No, I can't think like that. These weren't soldiers or capes, cops or criminals. Normal, productive people are the bedrock of society, and the social contract stipulates that, in return for forgoing a profitable but ultimately negative-sum life of violence, they are due protection from those who don't.

I had been one of them, a lifetime ago. Would be now, if not for Being X's interference. Will be again, once I've beaten him. How could I expect others to respect that contract when it was my life under threat if I didn't respect it now?

"... Right. Can you kill him, then?"

She considered for a long moment.

"Yes, I should have enough."

"Should?"

"I normally try to avoid killing people with my power. But fifty hornet stings are supposed to be dangerous and I have four hundred and eight, plus a few other venomous species, though they wouldn't be enough on their own."

"What about your black widow collection?" Lisa asked. "Don't you have thousands and thousands of them?"

"... Not with me. I didn't think of it. They're too dangerous to use normally in case someone's allergic. And they're all working on your new costumes now."

I briefly muted my communication formula to hide my sigh. The perils of working with amateurs.

"How long would four hundred hornet stings take to kill him? Bonesaw is right there. Actually, Bonesaw might have already made him resistant to common venoms."

Lisa said, "You know, I actually think they don't know about the Master. Bonesaw and Jack seemed to think of the projection as a person. So he shouldn't have any improvements, and they might not rush to fix him if he just stumbles in. Siberian could probably convince them, though, if she's capable of that much independent action. There's a bigger problem, though: remember Newter?"

"That failed because I targeted the projection, right? No reason to assume her power makes people generally immune to drugs and poisons, which wouldn't really make sense anyway."

"I don't think so. She has human physiology, more or less. Maybe it just blocked ingress or only worked because Newter's hallucinogen is a power effect. Or maybe it just makes people generally immune to drugs and poisons. It doesn't have to make sense."

"So we have to assume the worst."

We all paused to consider our options. Skitter spoke up first.

"You have illusions, right? You could still shoot him, if you don't think the bugs will work. Just go in disguised as a civilian returning for their car. It doesn't seem like he's even paying much attention to his surroundings, and you wouldn't need to trick him long."

Hmm. Yeah, that could work. There was some risk, but Siberian was a dangerous opponent. Nothing safer was springing to mind.

"Good thinking" I complimented Skitter as I began my descent, charging an artillery spell and forming the illusion as I went.

Someone non-threatening, but not so much so as to be suspicious. A mid-thirties white woman with dark, shoulder-length hair, a little chubby, on the short side. Height mismatches were always hard to manage, but an illusion with my true height wouldn't pass for an adult. Not a nondescript one, anyway. It didn't have to hold up to close scrutiny.

Probably better if I fly so my head lines up with the illusion instead of my feet. Realistic walking was hard to fake, but smooth concrete was an ideal case. I shouldn't be getting close enough for footsteps to matter. And it'd let me escape just that bit faster in the worst--

"Colonel!"

I paused, hovering a meter off the pavement.

"Yes, Koenig?"

"I should go. He's never even seen me. I'd only really need to hide my uniform and rifle. And you're needed to coordinate the follow-up. Granz and I barely speak the language."

My breath hitched. What was this shit? Was he suicidal? I knew we'd had things too easy in this world so far, but was the boredom already getting to him? Keeping these battle maniacs in line is a full time job!

"Absolutely not! Your illusions are awful! Do you think I hadn't noticed? You know, I'd thought that illusion swarm earlier was clever, but maybe you just realized you can't manage the detail work. Half the time your decoys just mirror your movements!"

"But--"

"Not another word, Lieutenant! We will discuss this later. For now, get in position to kill Jack. Weiss, you are to handle any necessary translation and accommodate Skitter's needs. And Granz, focus on keeping Tattletale out of trouble."

I returned to the task at hand to an unenthusiastic chorus of Yes, Ma'ams. No matter. I'd find something to keep them occupied. Lisa needed basic training, anyway. Maybe they were due for a refresher.

I glided down the stairs slowly, getting a feel for the illusion. Really, it wasn't that hard. The illusion was made of my own magic. I just inherently knew where it was relative to my body, and I could move it just as easily as my own limbs. More easily, really, unaffected by the vagaries of nerves and muscles, or even the inconveniences of inertia and fixed shape that plagued my real body even in flight.

I could even get a sense of 'touch' by extending my shell out to the illusion's boundaries and relying on its feedback, though coordinating that was a little fiddly. I was feeling pretty confident by the time I reached the parking area proper. I wouldn't want to try to go through Customs in this illusion, but for fooling a distracted supervillain for ten seconds across the length of a dim lot? Easy.

Still, I felt a little thrill of anxiety as I entered. Wasn't this around the time for Being X to throw a wrench into things? For how long the Nine have been getting away with their nonsense, I half suspected he'd been protecting them for years. Giving people a reason to pray, or something like that. (For that matter, the Simurgh was supposed to look like an angel… Well, I already planned on never sharing a continent with her if I had any choice.) But if I lived my life assuming Being X would sabotage every plan I made, I might as well just concede defeat. Nothing to do but get to work.

I quickly scanned the lot. I remembered where Skitter had pointed, so -- Ah! It was an off-white moving van. A little worse for wear, but it fit in in this city. It'd look a lot worse in a couple seconds. I let the illusion keep walking while I hovered, hiding behind it as I readied my rifle. The firefly on the muzzle lit up as promised, confirming my identification. I almost fired right then, but I held myself back.

Without his projection, he was just a regular person sitting in an unarmored van. A full strength artillery spell was overkill. It'd probably collapse the ceiling, and I'd already decided not to kill the people in the building above. I tuned it down to the appropriate level, took a half breath, and pulled the trigger, starting to fly backwards the moment the bullet left the barrel. Either I wouldn't need a second shot or I wouldn't get one, so no reason to stick around.

Still, there might be more killing to do today. I started charging a new artillery spell as I accelerated out of the parking area at a speed that would kill an unaugmented person. Who knows what fresh horrors Bonesaw had whipped up over the last few hours? Or that she already had on hand? I was vaguely aware of some chatter over the team channel, but the sound of the explosion was still echoing in my ears, even after my shell's automatic dampening. No matter. They knew their roles. And indeed, a second later I heard a shout from Lisa and then a new explosion a block away.

Confident I was out of immediate danger from Siberian, I turned to evaluate the situation. Looked like things had already resolved themselves. No Siberian, so I could only assume I'd been successful. The bar sported a new smoking hole in the wall but was otherwise quiet. The apartment building showed no signs of imminent collapse.

I let myself smile. Success on all points? Perhaps Bonesaw would surrender now that she was alone? Well, probably not. She does still have a kill order. Maybe the heroes would pull their weight now that the scary zebra woman was gone? Either way, we'd done what we'd set out to do. The rest was just cleanup. Cleanup and collecting our substantial paycheck.

I was about to congratulate the team when my hearing finally cleared up enough to understand the discussion that'd been going on while I considered.

"--were already dead! Bonesaw wouldn't have left them any way out!"

I clapped my hands, letting the sound carry over the channel to interrupt Skitter's nascent reply.

"What's all this? Who are you talking about?"

After a moment of silence, Lisa filled me in.

"The 'Bonesaw' and 'Jack' in the bar were decoys. Civilians Bonesaw shaped and puppeted to trick us, or whoever else showed up. Probably filled them up with traps, too. The real ones are long gone, ten minutes before we arrived at least."

A\N: Bear in mind they don't know Siberian can't extend invincibility to Manton. Lisa had a lot more to go on when she figured that out in canon.

Thank you again to Readhead for editing!