"For the last time Ben, you said yourself that you're going to need extra hands to deal with that giant hole on Terry Avenue. And I have a guy who would be perfectly qualified to help you." I looked down to the open file folder which held Joseph's CV. "He's got his CDL and a heavy equipment operator license. What else could you want?"
"Is he clean Danny? I can't afford to deal with another junkie who can't show up to work sober." Ben said.
I tried to reassure him "Is that what you're worried about? I can vouch for Joseph, he's clean. Haven't the other half dozen guys I recommended to you worked out alright?"
"Yeah, but I'm still not sure…" Ben hemmed.
I internally groaned, I suspected that part of the reason Ben was being so reluctant was the collective bargaining agreement we had with his company required pension contributions for each union employee. I needed to remind him there were other things to worry about than money.
"Ben, I get it. You'd rather look somewhere else for workers. But you need to get this job done quickly to keep the city happy. You could find someone else, but it could be weeks to find someone who's qualified. Or instead you can take Joseph, who's ready to go now. What do you say?"
Taking a moment to think Ben made his decision, "Alright Danny, I'll take your word for it. Tell him he better be at my office tomorrow first thing in the morning at 9 am sharp if he wants this job."
"Thank you Ben, as always I appreciate your time." I said.
"Nice talking with you as always Danny, goodbye" Ben finished, and he hung up.
I let out a breath and put the phone back on its cradle. Closing Joseph's folder I looked around and made sure I wasn't holding anyone up. Not many people still used the payphone outside the PRT HQ, but unlike a lot of others around the city it still worked at least. A small price for giving up cell phones I guess.
I hoped my next few calls didn't take as long as that last one. Ben could be a real hardass, but when you're a construction contractor in Brockton that was par for the course. I mentally ticked off another union member who could expect a chance at work, assuming Joseph stayed on the wagon like he promised he would.
Looking at my watch I decided it was a good time for lunch. Long experience told me that trying to reach people around noon was a suckers game, unless you liked to talk to their voicemails. I was already pushing it by calling them on their personal phones on a Sunday anyways. Sam would appreciate something fresh, since otherwise she'd be stuck with whatever the PRT cafeteria was serving. Plus it would be a good time to get more quarters for the payphone.
I'd get something for Taylor if I could. But she was currently cooling her heels in a PRT holding cell by herself. Even if the PRT weren't pressing any specific charges yet, they insisted on making Taylor and her friend wait at least until they could interview Sam for her version of events. While Taylor was holding up okay she was much more worried about her friend ("Precaution hasn't told her family about being a cape yet. Last time I saw her she was freaking out about how to tell them why she was arrested.").
The big problem was that Taylor had nearly killed Oni Lee, and they wanted to verify it was actually self defense instead of attempted murder. Honestly it was a weak pretense. Oni Lee was a well known killer after all. But they were allowed to be held in custody for up to 72 hours without charges being filed, so the PRT had the law on their side in this case.
Sam's surgery yesterday had gone as well as could be expected, with no immediate complications. After she had most of the shrapnel removed the PRT had moved her to their infirmary. Panacea was scheduled to stop by tomorrow to handle all the PRT and Protectorate personnel that had taken serious injuries, and Sam could expect a visit from her to speed up her recovery and get any possible remaining fragments. Granted, it didn't make it easier to see her unconscious in the PRT infirmary before she woke up this morning.
When she did wake up, Sam had confessed to me that she'd ran towards the fight because she had been worried about Taylor. I was just glad she had been honest with me. It matched up pretty well with what Taylor had told me at least. What had bugged me about her story though was that the whole point of putting her in the wards was so she wouldn't get in this kind of trouble, and nobody had stopped her when she had left her checkpoint.
After she had confided in me, I stayed with her as she recounted just about everything that had happened yesterday to a PRT officer. After what had happened earlier this week I did not want her alone in any sort of interrogation, no matter how much they insisted they were only "gathering facts".
Listening to the whole chain of events as Sam recounted however just reinforced my earlier feelings about the PRT's incompetence. All the heroes had been preoccupied with that dinosaur tinker while Lung had basically been able to roam as he pleased and the bomb tinker had literally kidnapped Sam and might have gotten away with it if Sam didn't have her particular set of powers.
Even if Sam was in for one hell of a grounding for a few of the things she did ("But you agreed that going to help Taylor was the right thing to do!" "Yes, but I'm not convinced that helping her required putting a massive hole in the street."), she was still a kid at the end of the day.
After the whole ordeal of recounting everything had happened, Sam had been told to get some more rest by the infirmary doctor. I decided to give her some space to process things. After that I checked in with Taylor to let her know Sam was awake, news she welcomed happily.
To occupy myself, I'd gotten a head start on making sure at least a few people from the dockworkers union who needed work could benefit from this fiasco. So I'd been checking around with my contacts with the different construction companies to see if they needed any positions filled before they went to work fixing the damage from the fight.
Picking out a sub sandwich shop a few blocks away I got a pair of the cold cut sandwiches since those were on sale. Once I got my order I made my way back to the PRT HQ. Keeping to the sidewalk I navigated around the few other pedestrians out and about going past me. This being Brockton I kept a close eye on anyone getting near me to make sure I didn't suddenly find myself missing my wallet.
It was when I was a block away from the PRT HQ however that I spotted an unusual old lady. She was wearing a scarf on her head with a conservative floral dress and shawl, like one of those Babushka's in that documentary on Russian life that I once watched with Annette. She was also using a walking cane in her right hand to compensate for a limp she had.
As she got closer for some reason she started looking at me, like she recognized me from somewhere. I tried to think but I honestly couldn't remember ever seeing her before.
"Mr Hebert?" the old lady asked, a strong accent I couldn't place.
Stopping, I realized she was talking to me. "Huh?"
"Yes you. You are Mr. Hebert, yes?" she asked again, somehow sure she had the right person.
"That's me, yes. But how did you know who I am? I'm sorry but I don't remember seeing you before." I tried to place her again but continued to draw a blank.
She huffed "Hmph, I have my ways. I have been told that your daughter needs tutoring, correct?"
"Uh, I'm sorry but I think you're confused. Both my daughters are doing fine in school. They don't need tutoring."
"I am not a school tutor. I don't do that kind of tutoring." she almost snapped.
"You're not that kind of…I'm sorry but I don't think I caught your name." I tried to clarify.
"You can call me Mrs Emilija Ozola. Like I said before, an old friend told me your daughter needed tutoring."
"And who's your friend? For the last time I don't remember asking for any tutoring." I repeated. I began to think I was getting scammed somehow, and I began considering ways to get away from this strange woman.
She sighed "You are as slow as my own son is sometimes. The things I do for Maggy…."
"Wait, you're friends with Mrs Houlihan? Oh!..." I realized what she was talking about now "You're the one she asked about the mentor-apprentice thing?"
"She talked to me, yes. I've come to see if the girl is worth my time."
"Uh, now's not really a good time. She's not really well right now. I wasn't even expecting you right now.."
She tilted her head. "Yes, it seems I have come at an interesting time. Maggy mentioned you were interested yesterday and I do not like to waste time, so I came today. Your daughter is quite the troublemaker, judging from the story she told this morning.
"This morning? Hold on…You already know about that?" I asked.
"Like I said, I have my ways." she repeated.
Hearing her say that again I began to suspect she was talking about her powers, whatever those were. I tried to think if there were any older female hero's but I drew a blank. There really weren't that many old capes in general.
I looked around and said "Maybe we should take this somewhere more private. Like the PRT HQ or something?"
"The PRT HQ? Feh, if you want privacy that is the last place you want to go. So many nosy people there. Follow me, we can talk in my son's car. He should be nearby." she waved her cane the direction she had come.
As she beckoned me to follow her, I decided that if she knew Mrs Houlihan she couldn't be too dangerous. So we retraced back the way she had come. We walked to an alleyway that was halfway down the block, and there we found an old red sedan, a Buick model I think. Leaning on the hood was a guy playing on his phone and smoking a cigarette.
Looking between them I could see a slight family resemblance from the brown shade of their hair, though his clothes were more a more casual ensemble of T-shirt, vest, and jeans. If I had to guess, he was a few years younger than me.
As we entered the alley Mrs. Ozola announced our presence "Sergejs, get off your phone. I want to introduce you to Mr. Hebert."
Lifting his head up, the guy looked at me and took his cigarette out of his mouth for a moment. "Nice to meet ya. Names Sergejs, but you can call me Serj for short."
He lacked his mothers heavy accent, but he still seemed to stress the syllables on his full name. He offered his hand out for a handshake and I decided to take it to avoid being rude.
"Nice to meet you as well." I greeted him in return.
As we finished shaking hands, I tried to get some more information from him "So you're Mrs Ozola's son. Do you happen to work with her or…"
"Nah, if you're talking about cape stuff that's Ma's thing. I just drive her around because she doesn't have a driver's license." he explained. Then he leaned close "So, I'm guessing your kid is the one Ma's thinking about tutoring eh? You must be a brave guy to be asking Ma for help given her reputation and all."
"Her reputation?" I asked, confused how a hero I'd never heard of could have a 'reputation'.
Mrs Ozola coughed before he could elaborate. "Sergejs, we need to talk in the car for a moment. How about you buy something to eat while you wait?"
"Is this going to be a long conversation? Because last time I left you alone with someone you nearly talked them to death over an hour." he said, holding his lit cigarette in between his fingers.
"Delilah was a special case. After all, it's not everyday someone is marrying my son." Mrs. Ozola said.
"Of course, I'll just assume it won't take longer than twenty minutes then," he replied. But before he left he leaned over to me again with a whisper. "If she seems a bit intense don't let that scare you. She's been getting restless ever since we started mentioning retirement around her. Just be polite and she'll jump to keep herself busy teaching your kid."
"Sergejs, for the last time I still haven't made up my mind to tutor the girl. Stop assuming I will." she protested.
Huh, for an old woman she has excellent hearing I idly noted. Sergejs had whispered pretty quietly and it hadn't made a difference at all to her.
"Alright I'll leave you two alone then. I'm getting myself some coffee." Sergejs said as he walked out of the alley, puffing on his cigarette.
Looking over I saw Mrs Ozola opening the backseat doors and ushering me inside "Come on, there shouldn't be any curious ears in here."
Generally it would be a bad idea to get into a stranger's car with a parahuman I've never met before. But I remembered Mrs Houlihan mentioning how tough finding other potential mentors would be. If this fell through Sam would have a lot fewer options to work with if things went south with the PRT. I'd have to trust that this wasn't some elaborate setup or something.
"Alright, I've come this far I guess. Might as well hear what the offer is." I said, partly just to myself.
Once I had gotten into the back Mrs Ozola closed the door behind her, placing her cane between her legs. I got comfortable while trying to not mash up the sandwiches in the plastic bag I was carrying them in.
"So Mr. Hebert, perhaps I should tell you about myself so you are not so suspicious of me. I am guessing you haven't been told much." she guessed.
I shook my head. "Not really, no. Mrs Houlihan just mentioned that she met you while she was working with the King's Men."
"That is true. We first met around twenty five years ago in fact, a short time after I got my powers." she said.
"Twenty five years…that's almost as long as the Triumvirate has been around." I said, a bit surprised.
"Yes, children who got their powers early before anyone knew much about powers at all. I was older when I got mine. I will not bore you with details of how. But it was a dangerous time for me. My home country of Latvia was still part of the Soviet Union. I was in the Latvian branch of KGB in Riga before my country broke away."
"You were in the KGB?" I asked, a little taken aback.
She didn't look like a spy, though I guess that's partly the point of being a spy.
"Only a minor administrative secretary, processing arrests. I joined thinking it would give me protection, to be a member. How foolish I was. I sometimes think I was hired by mistake." She shook her head.
I wondered if she really was as innocent as claimed she was. I'd heard some nasty stories about the KGB growing up and it was hard to imagine anyone working for them being good people. But I kept that to myself and let her continue telling her story.
She continued "Even before I got my powers I was always under suspicion, being a Latvian and my parents being Jews. I didn't even practice the faith but it didn't matter to them. I worked there for over a decade and a half with hardly anyone mentioning a promotion for me. After Scion arrived, and I got powers a few years later, I realized I was in a dangerous situation. So I hid my powers. Do you know why?"
"I…don't really know much about that area specifically. But I know that for a lot of parahumans around the world there's a lot of press ganging." I guessed.
"You would be correct. At best I would have lived the rest of my life under someone's thumb, at worst I do not want to imagine. In the end I was lucky that my power was not so flashy." she said.
"Is that when you decided to leave your country?" I asked.
Mrs Ozola nodded "Yes, I decided that I needed to flee before my power was discovered and my family was threatened. That was how Mrs. Houlihan and I met. She helped arrange for my family to get to the safety of America."
OK that would explain their connection. And if Mrs Houlihan had decided she was worth saving she couldn't be all bad. But one detail raised my curiosity "You didn't stay in the UK? I would've figured the King's Men would've wanted you to join them."
"They offered but I declined. Still too close to Russia. If you knew some of the people there you would want the ocean between you and them as well. I simply traded some information that they needed for my passage here." she said.
"Okay I can see where you're coming from." I accepted. If I had been in the same situation I probably wouldn't be taking a lot of chances either.
"The reason I tell you this is so you know that I understand why you may distrust PRT. I did not trust my superiors when I was in the USSR. I was only a Latvian or Jew to them. After my powers came I learned many things about them that made me trust them even less."
"Yeah, I can see that. If you didn't trust them, why did you join the Protectorate?" I asked.
"Let me correct you, I am not a full time member. I only joined part time. They gave me the code name of Hamsa, though I don't use it much myself. I can choose what to tell them, and what missions I take from them. As for why I am not a criminal? I have a family and I was raised to be an honest woman. I learned much about criminals in the KGB. I would never trust criminals with the information my power gives me."
"That's very admirable. Though not to be rude, I'm surprised I haven't heard of you before. There aren't a lot of older hero's out there. You mentioned your powers involved gathering information?" I tried to ask politely.
She grinned a bit "I like to keep a low profile. All you need to know is that my powers let me have eyes and ears where others may not expect them. They are not flashy powers like the Triumvirate, but they are useful. They give me information that keeps me useful for the Protectorate and PRT. That is why I can be a part time member."
"Okay I can understand why you might not be a 'full time' member. But why are you interested in teaching my daughter? How do I know I can trust you?"
"Like I said before this is a favor to Maggy. As for why you should trust me you'll just have to trust her word and mine. She can tell you that I am good at what I can do, and that I can pass on many things. Honestly the more I learn about your daughter the more I think she needs someone to set her straight." she said.
"Hold on, what do you mean 'set her straight'?" I asked.
"You know about the battle yesterday, yes?" she looked me square in the eyes and I nodded. She continued "She acted like she was invincible, like all young teenagers who do not believe they can die yet. It was a very foolish way to go about things, with not much subtlety."
"Alright, I get where you're coming from. But honestly I think she shouldn't have been in that fight to begin with. I don't care so much how good she is at fighting, just that she's safe." I said.
"Admirable, but sadly this will hardly be the last fight she will be in, and I doubt the wards will give her what she needs to survive."
"They don't? What do you mean by that?" I tried to clarify.
"The wards teach much about teamwork and powers, true. But they don't teach how to think, only procedures, plans, and following rules. When things get too messy, like it did yesterday, those things won't help her." she elaborated.
She seemed to be very opinionated about the wards. "So, what exactly are you going to teach her then?"
"You are getting ahead of yourself, I have not agreed to teach. But if I do I will help her understand there is a difference between thinking and knowing things. She will learn how to observe, wait, and listen. And hopefully a little subtlety as well. It will help her live longer at least."
"If you can do that I think I would be fine with you mentoring her. She's growing up and…honestly I don't know what else to do. Things have just been getting so much more complicated ever since… um."
"Your other daughter got powers too?" she supplied.
"Wait, how did…oh let me guess. You have your ways?" I repeated back.
She nodded. "It is a shame I cannot tutor them both. Your other daughter has much potential as well. But I doubt she would listen to me. Too independent minded to take instruction from old women I think. She will have to learn the hard way."
While I liked to think the best of Taylor, she really wasn't far off with the "independent minded" label. And she's definitely been learning the hard way for the past week.
"I guess that would have been too easy. So when do you think you'll decide to teach Sam? You keep insisting that you haven't decided yet." I noted.
"I will have to meet her of course. It would be silly to want to teach someone you haven't met wouldn't it? After all, she might not want to learn from me anyways."
"Is that it? Why don't you come with me to meet her then? She should be awake by now at least." I offered.
She shook her head. "Sorry but I can't go into the PRT building."
"Hold on, you can't?" I felt a bit confused again.
"I must stay inconspicuous for my role. The fewer people who know my face the better. For many people at the PRT they only know me by my cape name. Why do you think I met you out here rather than in the HQ?"
"Oh, so this is a civilian life, cape life thing right?" I guessed. This must be part of that 'reputation' Sergejs mentioned.
"In a way. Officially you never met my cape identity today, you only met Mrs Emilija Ozola to ask for tutoring for your daughter. I can do tutoring in French, and she wants to learn it so she can take a trip up to Quebec. This gives you plausible deniability if anyone asks about you or her meeting with me."
I nodded my head "I think I understand. But do you really never go to any of the PRT buildings?"
"Not in the last several years at least. They come to me when I contact them, or when they need specific information. But I don't miss out on much. My power lets me know much about what goes on in those buildings. For example, you know the director women here, Ms. Piggot? She has been in lively talks with other directors about who to blame for yesterday for the last hour."
I raised my eyebrows. I had heard rumors of how paranoid some of the countermeasures the directors office had to deal with eavesdropping. And she could just listen in as much as she wanted?
"Hopefully my daughter's aren't getting any blame." I carefully said.
"Thankfully not. They discussed it for a time but dismissed it as counterproductive. The villains will be getting the blame, as they should." she said with some satisfaction.
I let out a breath of relief, "That's good at least. When do you think you can meet her then? She should be able to leave the infirmary after Panacea's visit tomorrow."
"Good, I can meet her later this week then. You can contact me at this number when you are ready" She handed me a number on a slip of paper. I noted that it had a Boston area code. "As for my son, he should be back right about…now"
Just as she predicted, Sergejs came around the corner at that moment. He was eating a pastry and holding a coffee. As he entered the alley Mrs Ozola opened the car door and stepped out. I decided this was my cue to get out myself.
"Hey Ma, you finished making up your mind about teaching that kid yet?" he asked, before taking a final bite of his pastry.
She shook her head, "No, I still have to meet her first. I've learned that she won't be available today so we'll have to come back later this week."
Sergejs sighed, "Really? You couldn't have just called to check ahead or something? Driving up from Boston isn't free, you know."
"Oh hush, it isn't like you're busy with that furniture store of yours. You let all your assistants do all the work." she chided.
"Hey I make plenty of sales. You just like keeping me busy every time you come over to my shop." he claimed.
"You sell furniture?" I asked, a bit curious about how the son of a spy ended up selling couches.
"It's an honest living." he said, then his eyes lit up "Hey, if you're ever in bean town feel free to stop by. I think I have an armchair set you'd love."
"Sergejs, stop being a salesman. We should be getting going. My favorite show will be on at three and I do not want to miss it." she chided again, this time going to the car's front passenger seat.
Sergejs leaned over to me "And she wonders why I can never sell anything around her, almost like a bad luck charm."
"I heard that!" she hollered from the passenger's seat.
"I wish you and your daughter the best of luck." he said before walking back to the car.
I waved goodbye as their car started up. Once Mrs Ozola and her son's car was running it crept its way out of the alley onto the street. Once they were out of sight I was left alone with my thoughts about the conversation I'd just had.
Was I really okay with Sam learning from a former KGB operative? She seemed to have some morals but I couldn't help feeling like she wasn't telling me everything. As I checked the sandwiches to make sure they hadn't gotten mushed in the car, I decided this was something I'd have to think about later. I probably should be getting back to the PRT HQ soon anyways. Don't want anyone to get worried about me.
As it happened the only immediate regret came when I checked my wallet for my ID before I went into the HQ. I had forgotten to ask for some quarters back at the sandwich shop. I guess I'll have to buy something else so I could call Joseph about his new job.
A/N
-And that was Danny's interlude. I figured this would be a good time to show him trying to balance his regular job with some of the weirdness of the cape world. As you can see he can get a little out of his depth when things get weird.
-Here's a character I've been looking forward to introducing. Hamsa, or Emilija Ozola, a former KGB agent turned cape. If Hamsa seems old for a parahuman, I'd like to emphasize she doesn't really have a combat oriented power. I'm imagining her having got her powers in her late 30's, and being in her early 60's. So pretty old to be a cape but still active. I wanted to try writing an older cape character and I figured making her the potential mentor for Sam made sense for the story.
-As you can guess the PRT and Protectorate are having a hell of a time figuring out how to handle this mess. I figured it'd take them at least more than a day to work out the best course of action going forward. So more on that to come.
-As always I appreciate any feedback. It's the only thing I ask for.