One More Trigger Pt 25 (Patreon)

Brockton Bay
Barnes Household
One Day After the Escape

“You're certain of this?” Alan Barnes looked at Taylor. “That's what you heard?” He got up from his armchair and paced back and forth across the living room.

“Absolutely,” Taylor assured him. “Someone forced down the transports carrying the Slaughterhouse Nine, and by the time they got to the site, there was nothing there except empty blocks of containment foam.”

“Christ,” muttered Danny Hebert. “And given the trouncing you gave them the last time they showed up, what's the chance that they'll come back for more?”

“This is Jack Slash we're talking about,” Emma pointed out. “He doesn't back down, and he doesn't give up.”

“She's right,” Lisa offered. “He'll be back. And he'll be looking for blood.”

“So who's with him?” asked Rod Clements. “Do they know that, at least?”

“Well, last the Director heard, they were still tracking Crawler,” Taylor stated. “He hadn't met up with the others, as far as they knew. They're also pretty sure that Jack Slash, Bonesaw and Mannequin are on the move together.”

“No word of Manton? The Siberian could be an insurmountable problem in and of herself,” Alan asked.

Taylor shook her head. “No. In fact, the transport carrying him veered off before the attack, and not even the Director knows where he's gotten to.”

“Okay,” muttered Danny. “That's just weird. But that's not our main problem. That one's Jack Slash and his buddies.” He looked at Taylor. “How fast can you have the city covered?”

“I don't have quite enough bugs yet.” She glanced at Amy. “What are the chances of getting some more in a hurry?”

“That depends,” Amy told her. “How fast do you need them, and how many?”

“Whoa, hold on a second there,” Lisa chided the two of them. “We take this slow and easy. Last time wiped her out, and nearly cost people their lives. Including Vicky. Remember?”

Abashed, Taylor nodded. “Sorry. You're right. It's just that I don't have enough booster bugs to cover the city from all angles. I need more. And we have no idea when the Nine -”

“Well, actually, the Three -” interjected Madison.

“Don't joke about it,” her father advised. “They might well recruit on the way. You could find yourselves facing people you never expected to.”

“Which is why we train as hard as we do,” Emma pointed out. “So we're ready for the unexpected.”

“And I have a solution for the not-enough-bugs problem,” Lisa declared. “At least until Amy's able to crank out some more. At her own pace, mind you.”

“Okay, so what's the solution?” asked Taylor.

“Spread them around the perimeter of the city, of course,” Lisa told her. “And don't forget along the waterfront. He may just come in by boat.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Taylor agreed. “I'll start moving them around now.”

“Aren't we worrying for nothing?” asked Rod Clements. “I mean, last time, we nailed them with toxin bugs and glue bugs. These are the ones who went down easily.”

Danny and Alan both smacked him across the back of the head. “Hey, ow! What's the big idea?”

“Seriously, going into a situation with the idea that it might be easy?” Alan shook his head.

"Yeah," added Danny. “What were you thinking?”

“Oh. Right.” Rod rubbed the back of his head, his expression rueful. “Sorry.”

“And it might not be that easy, even if Taylor gets bugs on them again,” Amy pointed out.

“How do you mean?” asked Missy. “A couple of bites and they're down, right?”

“Not necessarily so,” Amy advised her, expression worried. “Bonesaw's a medical Tinker. If she figured out what toxin we used, and I'd be totally unsurprised if she did, she could maybe figure out a workaround. Or even make herself and Jack Slash immune.”

“And once Mannequin figures out what we did to him, he might work out a frictionless surface that not even your wonder glue can stick to, Taylor,” Danny agreed.

“Crap,” muttered Rod. “You guys used your best shot, so now they know about it.”

“Which doesn't mean that all is lost,” Lisa pointed out. "So what if they're immune to the best venom you can produce, or the best glue? Hit 'em with the second best venom, or the second best glue. Still plenty good enough, right? And I know enough about poisons to know that an antidote against one won't do jack against another."

Taylor scratched her nose. "Maybe not the absolute second best," she decided. "Bonesaw's tricky as hell. She's likely to have covered her bases. So we look farther afield."

"You've got ideas?" asked Emma.

Taylor grinned. "When do I not?"

<><>

Two Days Later

"How do you feel, Mr Jack?"

Jack squinted up at her, then slowly sat up, looking around the dingy motel room. "Not the greatest, poppet. Are you sure your implants are doing the job?"

"Of course, silly." She pointed at the almost-invisible incision scars. "I improved your kidneys to deal with ingested poisons, and I upgraded your lymph system to take injected toxins out of the picture. I've upgraded my own wake-up system, and I'll set you up with one just as soon as I've finished fine-tuning what I've done with you."

"So this will make me immune to whatever they hit us with, the last time?"

"Well, I'm about ninety-eight percent sure that it was batrachotoxin laced with ketamine," she explained. "Pure batrachotoxin -"

"Poppet, I'm still a little woozy," he interrupted. "What's batrachotoxin when it's at home?"

"South American poison arrow frog toxin," she explained blithely. "So powerful that if the bugs that stung us were carrying the pure stuff, you'd probably be dead, and I'd be in a coma or dead."

He scratched his beard. "Well, damn."

"Language, Mr Jack!" she scolded. "There's a child present."

"Sorry," he replied at once. "I was just impressed. These people aren't playing around. Not many heroes are willing to go that hard to get us."

"Which reminds me," she pointed out. "Even if Ladybug has a limited amount of frog arrow bugs, she's still got a zillion and one ordinary bugs that she can sic on to us. Some of those are almost as poisonous as the bugs she did bite us with."

"But we'll still be immune to the effects of the poison, right?"

She nodded, but held up a finger. "Right, but only up to a point. After that point, the filters are overwhelmed and we start feeling the effects of the poison. Especially if she hits us with several different types of poison at once. Also, she can use bugs as cover if they're thick enough."

"Visual cover only, surely," he objected.

"Well, true, but if you don't know where in that mess of bugs Ladybug is hiding, Mr Jack, it may as well not be just visual."

"Do you have a solution for this?"

She smiled angelically. "Of course. We take away her bugs."

Slowly, he smiled back at her. "I like the way you think, poppet. How do you plan on doing that?"

“Last time, we sealed the bus and killed all the bugs inside,” she pointed out. “This time … I think we should kill every bug that comes close to us.”

“That has the problem that she'll be able to pinpoint us by where the bugs are dying,” he objected.

“Not if we set off pyrethrum bombs across the city.”

He blinked; she looked smug. “That … could actually work.”

“Of course it'll work,” she replied briskly.

He scratched at his beard. “How are we going to get the bombs into the city? She found us with her bugs pretty quickly the last time.”

“Well, it was either luck, which makes it not a problem … “ she began.

“Let's not try to rely upon luck, poppet,” he suggested.

“Okay. If it wasn't luck, then she's able to see through her bugs' eyes or something. Which is weird, because bug eyes can't see much. But if she is, then … hmm.” Slowly, she smiled.

“Hmm what?” he asked.

“Mr Jack,” she asked, “how do you feel about wearing a disguise?”

“Huh. Good question. Normally I wouldn't stoop to such a thing, but they cheated with their bugs, so I may as well bend the rules also.”

“Oh, goody!” She clapped her hands. “I get to make disguises! Now, real human skin is best … “

“Before we go too far with this,” he cautioned her, “what about the rest of that nauseatingly heroic bunch of teenage delinquents? Panacea doesn't have ranged powers, but that still leaves Sparx, Aerodyne and Vista. Any one of whom could wreck our plans.”

“You don't want to fight them?” she asked innocently.

“No, poppet.” He bared his teeth. “I want to destroy them.”

Her smile, in return, was angelic. “I think I can help you there.”

<><>

Mannequin rarely thought of himself as Alan Gramme any more. Gramme had been weak, ineffectual. He had let himself become distracted by the problems of the world, and had sought to alleviate them. He'd been thus distracted when the Simurgh killed his wife and two lovely daughters. What had gone on from that point had not been truly Alan Gramme, not any more.

From being the hero Sphere, builder of self-contained Tinkertech habitats, he had reinvented himself. Now he turned his expertise inward, casting off his humanity. The organs and body parts which he no longer needed were discarded; that which was essential for life, he encased in a pristine shell, safe from the world. Forever self-recycling, it would keep him alive far more efficiently than the clumsy organic form. And nothing could touch him. Nothing could hurt him. Not ever again.

His mistake was clear to him now; he had tried to save the world, and it had destroyed him. Far from building it up, he should tear it down, along with anyone who tried to make it better. They must learn from their mistake, just as he had. And he was happy to show them.

Brockton Bay held heroes and villains alike, more of the latter than the former. Most were unremarkable, filling the same old niches, carrying out the same old tropes. Villains committed crimes, heroes caught them. But some heroes in Brockton Bay went beyond that; a new team was on the rise. Young, idealistic, effective. Role models. They were capturing the nation's imagination; a group of teenage girls, unaffiliated with the Protectorate or PRT, photogenic, good at what they did. Worse, they were making a difference. And Mannequin couldn't have that.

And so he had gone into Brockton Bay with the rest of the Nine. Following the death of Chuckles, they needed a new member. Jack had plans for corrupting a member of Team Samaritan, tearing the hero team apart once and for all, while writing another chapter in the blood-spattered history of the Nine. It was a good plan, not unlike others that the charismatic leader of the villain team had successfully pulled off before, and so Mannequin went with him into Brockton Bay.

And they had walked directly into a trap. Team Samaritan had been waiting for them, and they had allowed themselves to be taken down like amateurs. Like heroes. Mannequin had not even seen the attack coming; one moment he was walking normally, and the next, his joints had frozen. He had toppled over, unable to attack or defend, utterly helpless. It had been humiliating.

The fact that the rest of the team had been similarly ambushed afforded him no consolation. All he knew about the situation was that Jack, Burnscar and Bonesaw had gone down at the same time as he had, while Hatchet Face had been killed, presumably by Team Samaritan. Of the others, he had no clue.

Encased in containment foam, he expected to be going to his death, but to his puzzlement, he had been released from the sticky prison by Bonesaw. He didn't know why they had been dumped in a clearing in the forest, nor if anyone of the Nine other than Jack Slash or Bonesaw was even alive any more, but Jack had a plan, and that took precedence over any useless speculation. He intended to go back to Brockton Bay, and take revenge for the defeat that they had suffered at the hands of a bunch of teenage girls.

Mannequin was just fine with that. He intended to locate the bug-controlling girl, and destroy her, once and for all. Perhaps he would kill all of her friends in front of her, one at a time. However, in the meantime, he had to plan ahead. Simply charging back into the city invited a repeat of the previous debacle; he had to assume that the successful ambush had been planned, and not a matter of mere chance.

Bonesaw and Jack were also planning, of course; he could hear them, in the next room. They were both immunised against the toxin which had incapacitated them last time, which was good. It wasn't as if he had anything to worry about on that score; or rather, if anything got through his armour, then insect bites were the very least of his worries.

If Bonesaw managed to rid the city of its bugs, then he had little to worry about being glued solid again. However, on the off-chance, a more frictionless surface on his joint sockets couldn't hurt. He decided to also improve the insulation on the body, so that if Sparx attempted to harm him with her electricity, it would simply travel across the surface of his mechanical carapace without grounding into the interior. Aerodyne couldn't do much to him, he decided; he was too heavy for wind to affect very much, and his shell was sealed against even vacuum.

Nor was Panacea a factor, not against him. Their newest member, Athena, was apparently a Thinker; he didn't have a line on her speciality, but he knew how to deal with Thinkers, and he had several blades ready for the purpose. Should Glory Girl threaten to interfere, Panacea herself would make a superb hostage; not only had they served together in New Wave, but by all accounts, Glory Girl was very protective of her sister. She would be easy to manipulate.

Vista was apparently working with Team Samaritan; she was quite powerful in her own right, and Mannequin didn't have anything that would specifically affect her. However, Jack Slash did; no matter how far away the girl seemed to be, his knife-blade effect would reach her.

They would go back to Brockton Bay. Team Samaritan would fall. The stain on the reputation of the Slaughterhouse Nine would be expunged.

He was looking forward to this.

<><>

Brockton Bay
PRT Building

“Come in, Vista. ”

The Wards' liaison to the Samaritans entered Piggot's office, closing the door carefully behind her. “Thank you, ma'am.” She stood foursquare before the desk, chin up, hands clasped behind her back. Emily studied her for a moment; she almost looked taller, more confident.

“How are things with the Samaritans?” the Director asked.

“Good, ma'am,” Vista replied. “Very good. I'm learning things. They take their training very seriously.”

Piggot's eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that the Wards do not?”

Her tone was sharp, but Vista did not seem to be fazed. “Sure they do, but … the Samaritans train more … intensely. They use handicaps and paintballs.” Reflexively, she rubbed her rump. “Very accurate paintballs. They also work hard on teamwork and communication.”

“Hm.” Piggot clasped her hands before her on the desk. “Perhaps you should tell me why you asked to see me. Do you wish to come back to the Wards?”

“Uh, not yet, not unless you're ordering me back, ma'am,” Vista told her. “I'm working well with the Samaritans. We get along. We understand each other.” She took a deep breath. “I just … well, I was wondering what it was that came in the other day, when you were reading out Ladybug for her toxin bugs.”

Not by any flicker of her expression did Emily Piggot betray her thoughts. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I'm the liaison to the Samaritans,” Vista explained at once. “If it was that urgent, then it may be important. If it's important, then the Samaritans might need to know.” She paused. “Do they?”

Her words were innocent, the explanation plausible. However, Emily had to consider all aspects of the situation. “If it were that important, don't you think that I would have informed you by now?”

“Not necessarily, ma'am.” Vista's gaze was direct, her voice firm. “It may have slipped your mind.”

The fact of the matter was that it was something that the Samaritans probably did need to know; the remnant of the Slaughterhouse Nine being freed was no laughing matter. There was a better than fair chance, Emily knew, that they would be coming straight back to Brockton Bay, to revenge themselves upon the Samaritans for their defeat.

But there was another matter, one that concerned her even more. Why is Vista asking me about the matter, instead of waiting for me to inform her of what she needs to know?

It was only a suspicion, but it was a strong one, growing by the moment. If Ladybug left that bug of hers behind, and it is capable of listening in on conversations, then the Samaritans know about the escape of the Nine. If they want to be able to openly act on the knowledge, then they need to be able to plausibly claim to have acquired the information legitimately.

She eyed Vista, still standing there, looking as though butter would not melt in her mouth. Is her sympathy to their cause stronger than her loyalty to the Wards?

For a moment, she was tempted to tell Vista that her duties as a liaison were indeed over, that she was coming back as a Ward. But that would leave the Samaritans without someone to keep an eye on them. And I want someone keeping an eye on them, even if I'm not totally convinced of that person's loyalty. Besides, if she was being honest, she supposed that Vista might see withholding such information from the Samaritans as being a breach of trust on the part of the PRT.

Fine. I'll tell her, then as soon as she's gone, I'll have the office thoroughly fumigated and searched. If I then find that damned bug, I'll come down on the Samaritans with both feet. That way, they've got no complaint coming.

Vista was still waiting patiently; Piggot cleared her throat. “Actually, yes, there was something that I did intend to tell you about.” She lowered her brow, giving the girl a hard stare. “You do not spread this around; it is for the Samaritans only.”

“Of course, ma'am.” Vista's response was crisp.

“Very well. According to our information, the transports carrying three members of the Nine were forced down. They are still at large. The three people involved are Jack Slash, Bonesaw and Mannequin.” Crawler, she knew, was heading in a different direction. They don't need to know that.

<><>

Missy deliberately widened her eyes slightly behind her visor. “Oh. Oh wow. And … do you think that they might come back to Brockton Bay, ma'am?”

Piggot compressed her lips together. “It's a distinct possibility,” she admitted. “And given that the Samaritans took them down last time … “

“ … they might be looking for a rematch.” Missy nodded. “That sounds about right.”

“As I said, be careful who you spread that around to,” Piggot reminded her. “The Samaritans need to know, but we don't want a general panic.”

“Of course, ma'am.”

Piggot gestured toward the door. “You can go now. That's what that message was about.”

Missy nodded again. “Thank you, ma'am.” Turning, she headed for the door. She used her left hand to open it and close it behind her, because in her loosely-curled right hand was nestled Taylor's booster bug. As she left, Piggot was picking up the phone.

The bug sat quiescent in her hand until she got outside, whereupon she released it to fly where it would; pulling out her phone, she dialled a number.

“Hi, Vista,” a cheerful voice answered her. “Was I right?”

“All the way down the line, Lisa,” Missy replied, equally cheerfully. “And yeah, she told me. So now we can get into gear.”

“Excellent. I'll tell the others. See you when you get back.”

“See you then.” She ended the call and put the phone away. I'm glad the Director told me. I'd hate to have to quit the Wards over something like this.

<><>

Two Days Later

It was another small town, closer to Brockton Bay, but Jack could almost swear it was the same damn dingy motel room, right down to the faded wallpaper and the slightly out-of-tune TV set. In the bathroom, his poppet was humming a bright little tune over something. Getting up from the uncomfortable chair – something else that he could swear was the same – he rapped on the door. “How are you doing in there?”

“Just fine, Mr Jack,” she called back cheerfully. “Don't come in, though.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because I'm mixing up a batch of prions, and if you inhale them, you'll lose your powers.”

He blinked. “That's a new one.”

“Yeah, I thought of it last night. The best way to deal with the Samaritans is to shut them down hard. That way, you can play with them all you like. But can I have a couple for my own?”

“Of course, poppet,” he agreed at once. “There's enough to go around. I hope you're being careful with your prions.”

“Oh, very careful,” she agreed. “If I lose my powers, I won't be able to make the antidote.”

“Perhaps you should have done that first,” he advised, a little annoyed.

“Oh, no,” she replied. “I need some of the prions to make the antidote. So I needed to make the prions first.”

He let it go; he had never been able to follow her explanations, especially when she got so technical. But she so enjoyed her work that she was a joy to watch. “Well, have fun.”

“Oh, I will, thank you!”

Going back to the uncomfortable chair, he tried to watch some more slightly fuzzy TV shows. I hope we're finished here soon, because I'm about ready to kill someone. Like the whole damn town. And that would draw far too much attention.

That thought spawned another. The Nine's never been drawn down this far since I took over. Damn you, Team Samaritan. I'm going to enjoy dismantling you.

<><>

Brockton Bay
Hebert Household

“Well, I've got coverage of the city at last,” Taylor announced. She got up from her chair and went over to where Amy perched on the arm of the armchair where Lisa was sitting. “Thanks to you and your awesome bugs.” Leaning down, she hugged the girl.

Amy hugged her back. “That's okay. It's definitely worth it.”

“It surely is.” Taylor turned to the blonde. “And thanks, Lisa, for keeping me in line.”

Lisa grinned back at her. “Any time.”

“What I'm worried about,” Alan Barnes remarked from the sofa, “is the fact that the longer the Nine takes in getting here, the more preparations they're likely to be making. We can only anticipate so much.”

Lisa leaned back in the armchair. “It's okay,” she announced grandly. “I've got everything under control. They're in disguise, so your bugs won't pick 'em up, but that's okay. I know when and where they're likely to attack, and even how. Kind of, anyway. Also, Burnscar will be with 'em.”

Danny stared. “How in god's name do you know that? I mean, I know you're good, but I didn't know you were that good.”

“Well, see, there's good, there's really good, and then there's freaking awesome,” Lisa informed him in lordly tones. “I, of course, am the latter. In spades.”

“Oh god,” Amy remarked in amused tones, “I think the level of smugness in the room just went off the charts. Tell him, or I will.”

Lisa stuck her tongue out at the biokinetic. “You're no fun.”

Amy grinned back at her. “And … ?”

“Okay, fine.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “Have it your own way. Spoilsport.“

<><>

One Day Later
A Small Town Outside Brockton Bay
At the Bus Station

“Hey, isn't that Mimi?”

Jack turned to look. Bonesaw was pointing, discreetly, but he wasn't sure who she was indicating at first. And then he saw; the young woman with the scarf over her hair, and the makeup that almost masked her telltale cigarette burns. She was studying the bus schedule intently.

“Why, poppet, I do believe that you are correct.” Smiling, he stood up. “Wait here just a moment. I'll go and say hello.”

“Okay.” She moved their suitcases just a little closer, then smiled sunnily up at him. “I can't wait to get to Brockton Bay. Can you?”

“Not at all,” he agreed. Moving toward where the girl was still studying the schedule, he paused behind her and cleared his throat.

Turning her head, she jumped slightly. “Oh, sorry. Was I in your way?”

Once more, he had to marvel at the efficacy of the disguises that Bonesaw had whipped up; as she had stated, human skin was the best disguise, and so she had used just that. His disguise was a living thing that clung to his face, altering his hair colour, apparent bone structure and even the colour of his eyes. According to his poppet, it drew nutrients from his skin while he wore it; as far as he could tell, wearing it for a day was the equivalent to the best facial cleansing he had ever enjoyed.

So of course, Mimi couldn't recognise him.

“It's me,” he told her quietly. “Jack. Do you know where any of the others are?”

“J-Jack?” she stammered. Her eyes searched his face, came up a blank. “I – I'm not sure what you mean. I don't know anyone called Jack.”

“Of course you do, Mimi,” he replied, keeping his voice low. “It's me.”

The use of her name jolted her, and her eyes centred on his. “I don't -”

“Good disguise, isn't it?” he asked. “Much better than that tacky foundation cream you're using to hide your burn scars, yes?” He lingered on the two words, almost running them together.

She bit her lip. “Jack? Really?”

“The one and only,” he confirmed. “Now, one more time, and if you keep playing dumb, I'm going to get angry. Do you know where any of the others are?”

Very slightly, she shook her head. “No, I don't know where they are. I don't even know if they're alive. All I know is that we were at the school, then I was in containment foam, then there was an explosion and fire, and I managed to teleport away to another fire. I've been hitch-hiking for days to get here. I didn't even know where I was, at first. What happened?”

“It's a long story,” he told her. “Where were you planning to go?”

“South,” she replied. “Maybe New York, maybe farther. Why, where are you going?”

“We are going to Brockton Bay, Mimi,” he informed her. “The Nine have been wronged, and we're going to correct that, once and for all.”

She didn't even try to argue; his will had been dominating hers for so long that she simply nodded. “Okay. But how are we going to deal with whoever took us down? Because we didn't even see them coming.”

His expression may have been a smile; at the very least, he showed a lot of teeth. “Why don't you leave that to me.”

<><>

Brockton Bay Bus Terminal

It was probably just his imagination, but Jack seemed to be seeing a lot of bugs around. He and Bonesaw trooped off of the bus along with the rest of the passengers. As they waited for the luggage to be unpacked, he felt bugs landing on his face and taking off again; a glance sideways at Bonesaw's transformed features – she now had short straight black hair and Asian features, like himself – showed him that she was not being spared.

“You think we're under surveillance right now?” he murmured.

“Probably,” she whispered back. “Don't talk about it in case they can understand.” The bugs, she meant.

It should have scared him, or made him angry. Instead, it gave him a thrill in the pit of his stomach; here was a worthy opponent. Ladybug was the one he wanted in the Nine, perhaps after Bonesaw remade her face into insectile mandibles, so that her mask no longer needed to mimic them. His poppet wanted Panacea on the team, of course; she had spoken of the healer so familiarly that he would have been excused for thinking that they were old friends.

But to have the bug controller in the Nine … the atrocities that they could wreak. Whether or not Shatterbird was on the loose, it would be a fine thing for the Nine to announce their presence in a city by way of every bug rising up and attacking every human. Turning entire neighbourhoods into a charnel house.

He felt positively giddy at the thought.

Their suitcases returned to them, they moved to the nearest rental vehicle counter. There followed a period of negotiation; he wanted a flatbed pickup, not a car, and not every agency had such vehicles on their books. But finally, he found one that did, and paid for it with the credit card that had belonged to the man whose face he was wearing.

“Thank you very much, Mr Fujiwara,” the lady behind the counter told him. “If you will just go to wait by the western entrance, the vehicle will be delivered there in a few minutes. And welcome to Brockton Bay.”

“Thank you,” he replied politely. “I am sure that I will enjoy my stay.”

<><>

Barnes Household

“So it's tomorrow, at Winslow,” Taylor stated. “And it's going to happen whether we're there or not.”

“Exactly,” Lisa agreed. She had lost her habitual air of smugness; her face was serious for once. “Just remember, you've got to stick to the plan. Otherwise it's likely to all go wrong.”

“Yeah, but what if they don't stick to the plan?” asked Emma. “We can plan all we like, but if they're working off of a different playbook, then we're in trouble.”

“Then we do what we do best,” Madison offered. “We adapt and overcome. Seriously, guys. We can do this.”

“I'll be coming with,” Amy stated, her face drawn.

“What?” Taylor turned to her. “No, you're too valuable.”

“And you're not?” Amy stared her down. “No, there's a chance you'll need me. So I'm going.”

“Let's hope like hell we don't,” Taylor told her. But she crossed the room and gave the biokinetic a squeeze across the shoulders. “Just take care, okay?”

“Don't worry. I'll be right there with her,” Lisa assured her. “Nothing's gonna happen to her while I'm around.”

“Yeah, but who's gonna protect you?” asked Emma jokingly.

Lisa grinned. “You guys, of course.”

Taylor cleared her throat. “Okay, we're clear on how to deal with Mannequin if the glue bugs don't work this time?”

“Fuck, I hope they do,” muttered Madison. “Because I do not like Plan B.”

“It's better than not having a plan at all,” Taylor pointed out.

Madison rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but only just.”

“So yeah, ready to kick ass tomorrow?” Emma looked around at the others.

“Yeah.” Taylor's voice was firm.

“Yeah.” Despite her earlier enthusiasm, Madison's was less so.

“You bet.” Lisa's cocky grin was back.

“Yeah.” Despite the less-than-sure tone in her voice, Amy was in agreement.

“Good.” Emma held up her open hand. “All for one. And one for all.”

One by one, they slapped her hand, then slapped each others'. This occasioned some laughter as some slaps went astray.

As they bedded down on the mattresses provided, Emma could not help a treacherous thought.

I just hope it's enough.

<><>

The Next Day

“Okay … back it up a little more … a bit more … yeah, that's it. Stop there. That's fine.”

The pickup truck stopped at the right point and the guy set the handbrake before getting out. Jumping down from the warehouse loading dock to meet the newcomer, the shift boss approached him with clipboard in hand.

“Mr Fujiwara, right?” he asked, checking the clipboard a second time.

“That's me.” The guy nodded to confirm; the shift boss didn't hear any kind of Asian accent, but that didn't mean anything these days.

“Okay, got one crate for you. It arrived last night. See you're bright and early for the pick up. Been waiting on this one, have you?” He chuckled at his feeble joke.

“You might say that.” Fujiwara had a really intense stare; the shift boss shifted his feet without knowing why he felt uneasy. He batted away several bugs that had flown past just a moment ago.

“Lot of bugs around all of a sudden,” he observed, if only for something to say.

“Must be that time of year,” Fujiwara commented.

“Not really, that's the funny thing,” the shift boss noted. “Damn things just blew out of nowhere over the last few days.”

The beeping of the forklift interrupted the conversation, and they both turned to see it approaching the edge of the loading dock. The kid on the forklift was new, and he'd only worked the dock a few times. He had the bad habit of turning left far more than turning right, and tended to swing wide when he did.

The shift boss could see that he was approaching from a bad angle, and stepped forward to wave him off; the kid saw him, waved back, then went to reverse and turn at the same time. But he hadn't lowered the forks when he picked the crate up, and when he swung wide, the wheels on the right-hand side rode up on to a pallet that some idiot had left there. With the higher than normal centre of gravity, and the kid's panicked spinning of the wheels, the forklift started to go over. To the shift boss, it was as though he was prescient; he could see the accident coming long before it actually went beyond the point of no return.

“No, you fucking moron!” he yelled. But it was useless; disaster was inevitable.

Over it went, the crate sliding off the forks, hitting the edge of the loading dock, bouncing, then landing on the concrete below with a solid, shattering crunch. This, however, was overshadowed by the tremendous crash as the toppling forklift landed on the loading dock.

“Shit fuck!” The shift boss started forward, eyes on the fallen forklift. He better be okay. Because I'm gonna fucking kill him. It took a moment or so to realise that Fujiwara was moving forward with him. “Stay back, sir!” he told the man urgently. “Keep clear, please.” With luck, whatever was in the crate would be okay; if it wasn't, the company would be paying to replace it. In any case, that wasn't his problem. His problem was the idiot kid who'd just rolled a forklift.

And then, as he got closer, the crate began to shift. He pulled to a halt as wood moved and cracked apart, and something white began to unfold from within. “What the fuck …. ?”

By the time he recognised Mannequin, he had just enough time to realise that his problem wasn't the idiot kid after all.

Part 26