"Any luck?" Annette Hebert asked her husband.

"None at all," Danny replied, sitting down with a groan. "Two years. Two fucking years that container ship has been blocking the shipping channel…"

"Our daughter has a friend over," Annette pointed out. "We don't want Emma learning that kind of language, even if you do swear like a longshoreman."

Danny laughed.

"I suppose so," he said. "But… I don't know how we're going to deal with this, love. The union, even the city… I feel like city hall wants the owners of the ship to pay for it, the owners of the ship want the state to pay for it, the state is calling it a matter for the city… the Feds are too busy with the PRT… the Army Corps of Engineers is supposed to deal with it, but they're entirely occupied with rebuilding Louisiana after Leviathan destroyed the dam holding back the Atchafalaya."

"There's a lot to do there," Annette said, but she was looking contemplative. "Hold on a moment, I need to look something up."

"You do?" Danny replied. "A solution?"

"...I don't know," Annette replied. "I don't want to get your hopes up. But there's a possibility here, at least… I heard about it from someone at university, back when I was doing my degree. Someone doing political science told me…"

Rebecca Costa-Brown read the report, blinked, then read it again.

"...sorry?" she asked. "I… is this correct?"

"Yes, Director," her secretary replied. "It's in the newspapers as well, and he's supposed to be appearing on television later today."

Rebecca read the report for a third time.

It still said what she thought it said.

"Hold my calls, please," she requested. "I need to think about this."

"Director," her secretary said, and left the room.

The moment the door closed, Rebecca locked it.

"Door," she said, and stepped through to her other office. "Doctor Mother, we have a problem."

"Contessa hasn't said anything about it," Doctor Mother replied. "What sort of problem?"

"This," Rebecca explained, laying the report on the desk.

Doctor Mother picked it up, read it, then stared.

"...Brockton Bay man writes open letter to the Chinese Union Imperial, asking for parahuman assistance in removing an obstruction to the shipping lanes?" she said.

She looked up at Rebecca. "What?"

"You see why I wanted to bring it up," Rebecca explained. "Obviously we can't use Brockton Bay as a sample of what happens when we prevent somewhere getting assistance, not any more."

"Why obviously?" Kurt asked, coming in. "I caught most of that."

"Kurt, you're not the one who's going to have to answer questions from the President about why the Protectorate hasn't already done this," Rebecca replied. "You know as well as I do that it would take Keith about five minutes to blast the thing out of the way enough to let the channel get dredged… disguising this not happening as bureaucratic infighting is one thing for everyone else, but…"

She sighed. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if Keith is going over there to solve the problem already."

"This reminds me of something…" Kurt frowned. "A bridge somewhere in West Virginia, I think. They did the same trick, only it was with the USSR."

A door opened in Doctor Mother's office.

"Do you know if Rebecca is available – oh, she's here," Keith said, flying through. "Just wanted to let you know, I'm off to destroy a container ship that's been blocking the entrance to Brockton Bay for two years. Two years! I remember seeing a report about it happening, but I'd have expected it to be cleared within the month… if our bureaucracy is that bad, maybe Contessa can spend some time on a Path to sort it out?"

Rebecca exercised all her self-control to avoid facepalming.

AN:

Based on the Vulcan Bridge incident.