Trump Card Pt 29 (Patreon)

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: The overall title of this story refers to the power category 'Trump' in the web-novel Worm by J. C. McRae. Specifically, it has nothing to do with any American political figures. At all. This fanfic should not be taken as support for any such figures.]

Friday, February 4, 2011

“ … and then we dropped the damsel in distress off with her family and rode off into the sunset. More or less.” Following the script, L33t looked across at Über. “Did I miss anything out?”

“Not really.” Über's resonant voice gave the pronunciation more weight than it normally would have. “Though I have to wonder. We've defeated a supervillain and handed him over to the PRT. Does this make us superheroes?”

“Dude!” L33t mimed horror. “Don't even go there! We're ethical villains. Nobody dies on our watch. And if villains happen to kidnap teenage girls and we find out, then we're duty-bound to redress the situation and provide an adequate role model for any aspiring villains out there.” He turned to me. “Hax, you agree, right?”

I nodded, the armour translating the motion exactly. The current holocloak portrayed an Amazonesque woman with items of Tinkertech slung over hard-wearing khakis. The stun rifle, shaped down into its least bulky format, leaned against the wall alongside my (specially reinforced) chair. As a last-minute touch, I'd updated the holocloak image with an eyepatch that had a tiny camera mounted in it.

“Of course,” I said. “But I do have a couple of things to add. First, I'm getting a little tired of people testing the limits of my patience. The next time someone thinks it's a good idea to kidnap a teenage girl to get at me, I'm gonna kick their ass harder than I did with Lung the first time we fought. And if they're lucky, I'll let the PRT have what's left.” I let that hang in the air for a moment as I leaned toward the camera. “And second, I've been hearing rumours that the Empire Eighty-Eight have been claiming some sort of kinship with us, just because we took Lung down. Nothing could be further from the truth. We didn't take that murderous asshole down because he's Asian. We took him down because he kidnaps teenage girls. So if Kaiser gets in our way, or if he starts making any noise about us being on the same page, he's next. Just saying.”

“Woo, powerful stuff there, Hax.” Über chuckled disarmingly and slapped my shoulder. “Of course, I agree one hundred percent. Coil tried pulling shit with us too, and now he's no longer a free man. It's all about respect. And self-respect. There's lines that not even villains should cross.”

“Talking about self-respect,” L33t interjected, “I'm wondering if the guys in the Empire even realise that those flags they tattoo themselves with, the Nazi and Confederate ones, are all of governments that the United States kicked the asses of, once upon a time?”

“Ooh, burn,” I said with a chuckle, shaking my hand theatrically. “Oh, hey, I've got a riddle for you, Über. How do you save a Nazi from choking?”

“I don't know, Hax,” he said obligingly. “How do you save a Nazi from choking?”

“You take your foot off his throat, of course,” I explained.

While L33t held his sides and guffawed helplessly, Über chuckled more circumspectly. “I've got one,” he added. “If a member of the KKK is making snow angels … how can you tell?”

L33t laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair. “Okay,” he wheezed when he could speak again. “I'm pulling this up before the jokes get any worse. That's all from us for this week. See you next week with the latest shenanigans from Pwnage.” He waited for Über to make a thumbs-up sign; for my part, I pulled the (very real) taser pistol from my holster and held it up. Then he hit the remote to turn off the camera.

“'Snow angels',” I repeated, shaking my head. “That was bad. Even for you.”

Über bowed ironically. “I live to serve. Or something.”

“Just one thing.” L33t managed to look a little more serious than usual. “I'm totally in line with us not having any ties with the Empire, but are you sure that we need to antagonise them like that?”

“Wait, us antagonise them?” Über stared at him. “You were the one who said the thing about the United States kicking their asses. And you went along with the rest of it.”

L33t rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I wasn't gonna undercut you guys in front of our viewers. Pwnage sticks together. And anyway, I wasn't disagreeing with you. Just pointing out that the Empire's a crapload larger than the ABB used to be, and they've got a lot more capes and ordinary guys. And there's just the three of us. I don't want to see anyone getting hurt. Especially me.”

I hid a grin. While L33t might do his best to come across as the movie cliché cowardly Tinker, I could see the concern in his eyes.

“Well, there's that,” Über agreed. “And then there's the fact that before Taylor joined us, we wouldn't have even thought of teaming up with the Undersiders, let along taking on Lung. Now look at us. We're fucking amazing. Have you seen the comments on our channel? People are starting to watch it for the action, not to see us fall on our faces.”

“I'm not trying to build myself up here, but he's kind of right.” I shrugged. “People used to take bets on how long it'd take your latest device to blow up in your face. Has it even happened since I joined the team?”

“Well, no,” L33t admitted. “And I'm finding it easier to rebuild my stuff when you take it apart for me. And yeah, we've got a pocket dimension for a base now. All of which is kind of awesome, I will admit. I just don't want us biting off more we can chew with the Empire, or assuming that they won't come after us for dissing them like that.”

“Okay, yes, the Empire's definitely the nine hundred pound gorilla,” Über said. “But … you know, we've got a bit of throw weight ourselves these days too. Lung was no pushover, and you see what we managed against him with just a little prep? Also, don't forget that the Undersiders are basically our silent partners, these days.”

It was weird but true. When we first teamed with them to rob Lung's casino, I'd thought of it as a one-off event. We'd worked well together, divided up the money without argument and parted on amicable terms. Amicable enough that they were the first ones I called on when Alibi was kidnapped for the second time in a row. They'd come through in spades, though they'd taken hits themselves in the process. And while Grue and Regent would be out of action for a while, Tattletale had indicated that the group was definitely willing to work with us in future.

“All of which is true,” I said as I reholstered the taser pistol. “But the fact remains that we've got to pick our fights carefully. Going up against the Empire, all it would take is one lucky shot from the other side to seriously cripple us.”

“Maybe I should edit out the Empire stuff from the video before I post it?” L33t didn't look scared, but his expression was serious enough for me to take notice.

I put the light-spot on to Über, and concentrated on acquiring an analytical skill sufficient for determining what the Empire's next move was likely to be. While it wouldn't be a perfect predictor, I figured I could probably narrow down the options considerably. From the look on Über's face, he was doing much the same thing.

“I don't think it'll make a difference,” I concluded after running all the factors through in my head. “Yes, we dissed them. But we also took down Lung twice. The Empire's never managed to do it once. So they'll be wary of us. And even though I basically challenged them, I also said that if they don't do anything, nor will we.” I glanced at Über. “Concur?”

“Concur,” he said. “In addition, we did take down Lung, for which they've got to be happy. If they do move against us, it won't be immediately.”

I nodded. “Yeah.” I considered my next move, then came to a decision. “Actually, there's something else I'm working on that I'd appreciate your advice with.”

Über glanced at L33t. “You're the Tinker, bro. Not my field of expertise.”

“Actually, I kind of need both of your opinions on it,” I said before L33t could answer.

“Wait, is this that big-ass thing that nearly wrecked us getting it into the pocket dimension?” the Tinker asked. “Because you still haven't told us what it's supposed to do.”

“That's the one,” I confirmed as I stood up. “Come on, I'll tell you all about it.”

Über and L33t shared a glance as they got up. “This could be either very good or very bad,” L33t decided.

“Or just plain awesome,” Über said.

After a moment, L33t nodded. “There is that.”

<><>

About Fifteen Minutes Later
Kaiser

“Have you seen what those assholes are saying about us?” Bradley paced back and forth across Max's office, random blades emerging from his skin and then retracting. His fists were already clad in enough metal to punch through a brick wall.

“I have.” Max kept his voice steady. Clasping his hands behind his back, he observed the cage fighter with a certain level of detachment. “We've been called worse. It's not a major concern, not right now.” This wasn't to say that he wasn't angry about the challenge against the Empire, but there were times when the risk outweighed the reward.

“I agree.” James gave Max a measured nod, eliciting relief in the leader of the Empire Eighty-Eight. Oh, good. He understands. Sometimes, not reacting is the best policy. But then James kept talking. “They can wait until we've consolidated our hold on the ABB's old territory. Then we can hunt them down and crush them.”

Max shook his head slowly from side to side. “No. You're both missing the bigger picture.” He wasn't surprised that Hookwolf hadn't gotten it, but he'd expected better from Krieg.

Bradley stopped pacing and shot Max a filthy look. Wonderful. He still doesn't get it.

“The fuck you mean?” demanded Hookwolf. “The 'bigger picture' is that those B-grade assholes told jokes about us and got away with it! Since that bitch Hax joined the team, they think they're better than they are. People like 'em now. Every time someone laughs at those stupid fuckin' jokes, they're laughing at us!” He jabbed his steel-covered thumb at his chest.

Max restrained the impulse to roll his eyes. “I mean that while yes, this new team is a pain, they're also very good at what they do. While we know Über and L33t's capabilities, the jury's still out on Hax. Probably a Tinker, maybe a Brute, certainly a Mover, possibly a Changer. She's single-handedly defeated every cape she's gone up against. Including Lung, twice.” Wanting to make his point absolutely clear, he raised an eyebrow in Hookwolf's direction. “So we don't do anything unless we're absolutely one hundred percent certain we can deal with any fallout.”

Whatever she is, he mused, she's wasted with Über and L33t. If she'd just had the common sense to throw in with the Empire, we could've shown her real teamwork. Unfortunately, that ship's probably already sailed. A pity.

“So how do we take her out, without knowing what her exact capabilities are?” The question came from Krieg. “It seems to me that we need more information.”

“Check with our PRT contacts,” Max ordered. “See if anything's been decided about her powers there. And in the meantime, we need to get a message to Faultline. Set up a meeting.”

Hookwolf grimaced. “What're we talking to her about? We're the Empire. We can deal with our own shit.”

“But consider how it looks from the outside.” With just a touch of relief, Max saw Krieg nodding in agreement. This left just the uncouth cage-fighter to convince. “If we strike to take out Hax, it may well look as though we were attempting to clear the board for ourselves. After all, what threat could the Undersiders and the Merchants pose to us? Faultline, as leader of the only other major parahuman gang in the city, would have to start wondering. So we meet with her first, to assure her that it will go no further.”

“It's a pity that she doesn't take contracts within the city,” Krieg mused. “She and her Crew are quite efficient. Hiring her to take Hax down would keep us free of any fallout.”

Max shook his head at the same time that Hookwolf did. “Screw that,” declared the tattooed man. “If Hax is goin' down, then everyone needs to see that it's us doin' it. Fuck, I'll go after her myself if you want.”

“You might want to look before you leap.” Krieg sounded a little amused. “Or had you forgotten how she humiliated Lung the first time? Your powers are impressive, but I'm not convinced that you could beat a dragon.”

“He's right.” Max hated to admit it, but there was no sense in pretending otherwise. “We don't go after her until we have more information on her strengths and weaknesses. End of discussion.”

Hookwolf grimaced. “I hate letting assholes like that laugh at me.”

“Let them laugh,” Max advised. “The more they laugh, the more Hax lets her guard down.”

“Very true,” agreed Krieg. “I'll go contact Faultline and set up that meeting.”

“Good.” Max sat down at his desk. “I'll start trawling through our contacts.”

Krieg raised a finger. “Something just occurred to me. Über and L33t have spent time in jail, correct?”

Max wasn't sure where this was going, but he nodded anyway. “So I understand. They didn't take long to break out, of course. Why?”

The smile that spread across Krieg's face wasn't a pleasant one. “They would've been processed by the PRT. Their identities are now on record. We can use that to locate them.”

“Very true.” Max acknowledged that with a nod. “I'll see if I can get access to those files as well.” He gave barely a thought to the so-called 'unspoken rules' and how they forbade attacking someone via their secret identity. That sort of thing only mattered to those who couldn't get away with doing so. Hax was powerful, but there was a reason she'd allied herself with Über and L33t; backup. No cape was so powerful that they couldn't benefit from it. And so, removing Hax's backup would weaken her and possibly show up ways to attack her. She may be an unknown quantity. Her cohorts are very well-known indeed.

“And what about me?” demanded Hookwolf.

With an effort, Max controlled his temper at being addressed so rudely. “I'm going to need you to hit the streets and see if there's anything else you can dig up on Hax. Someone must have seen something.”

Hookwolf, looking happier than he had all meeting, nodded sharply. “I can do that.” He headed for the door and let himself out.

Once the door had shut again, Krieg looked at Max, his eyebrows raised. “Do you really think he'll find something, or was that just to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?”

Max smiled. “Either one works for me.”

<><>

Pwnage Base

L33t stared at me in horror. “Wait, you need fuckin' what to make it work?” The sheer disbelief in his voice almost made me giggle.

“Endbringer material.” Über leaned against the mechanism which took up a large portion of the space in my work-room, looking a little dazed. “Where the living fuck are you going to get Endbringer material from?” He stared again at the machine. “Why couldn't you have used L33t's power to invent something nice and harmless, like a swarm of impervious deathbots? You know, instead of this?”

“Because I needed to make it.” I looked him in the eye as I spoke. “It needed to be made.”

“Well, shit.” L33t sighed heavily. “She's got you there. When something needs to be made, that's all there is to it.” His expression became noticeably more haggard as he eyed the machine. “So, how much Endbringer material do we need? And where are we going to get it from?”

“Let me check my notes.” I did just that, riffling through my written material. “ … right. For a full output run, I'm gonna need about twelve pounds, more or less.” Admittedly, I'd over-calculated the requirement, just in case the final yield was lower than expected. I'd had to extrapolate some numbers from fuzzy data, but I was reasonably sure of my results. To a point. Twelve pounds, I knew, would do the job. And if I had some left over, well, a second run might just come in handy.

“So does it matter which Endbringer the mass comes from?” asked L33t weakly. “I mean, can we mix and match?”

“Oh, yes,” I said seriously. “It definitely matters. The absolute minimum we need is twelve pounds per Endbringer. Thirty-six pounds in all. That's one full output run for each one.” I refused to think of anything more being 'overkill'. When it came to Endbringers, there was no such thing as overkill.

“I notice that you haven't yet addressed the point of where we're going to get thirty-six pounds of Endbringer material from.” Über's tone was blunt.

“Ah … yeah.” I did my best to look innocent. From the less than impressed reactions of my partners in crime, I wasn't really nailing it. “I did a little research. While there's a little bit of Endbringer material that's found its way into the hands of private individuals, the vast majority's in the hands of the PRT. Specifically, in an ultramax security vault under Washington, DC.”

“I knew it.” L33t turned to Über, his facial features contorting as though he were suffering a minor seizure. “The moment she started speaking, I knew the PRT was going to come into it.” The anguish in his voice matched his expression; he looked like a man watching a vice slowly tighten on his unmentionables.

For his part, Über eyed me steadily. “So, you need Endbringer material to process in this insane machine of yours. Nearly forty pounds of it.”

I tilted my head slightly, thinking about his statement. Nothing seemed amiss about it. “That's the long and the short of it, yes.”

“And you need not ounces, but pounds. More than ten pounds per Endbringer,” he went on, his expression tightening as if he were in pain.

“Well, yes.” It seemed obvious enough to me, and for a moment I wondered at L33t's reaction. Then I realised that I'd become inured to the ramifications of using my machine. After the first few near-coronaries, 'twelve pounds of Endbringer material' became just an item on a shopping list. A shopping list assembled by a certified lunatic, but still merely a shopping list. “But it's for a good cause. You see that, right?”

“Oh, we see it,” L33t agreed, his voice hollow. “But it can be for a good cause and still be totally bat-shit insane!” Toward the end, his voice cracked a little. “You do realise that if we're caught—no, wait. When we're caught infiltrating the DC PRT base to steal Endbringer material, the only question at hand will be whether to sling us in the Birdcage one at a time, or all at once.”

I tilted my head the other way. “You seem sure that we'll go to the Birdcage. If we get caught.” Neither scenario seemed a certainty to me.

L33t turned to Über. “Dude. Back me up here. How many times have we tried to pull a fast one on the PRT?” There seemed to be a certain amount of repressed emotion in his voice.

Über frowned, as if unhappy about something. “Not counting the Coil thing, three.”

“Right.” L33t ran his hands through his hair, making himself look even more deranged than normal. “And how many of those times were we caught and sent to jail?”

There was a moment of silence, as Über's frown deepened fractionally. “Three,” he said reluctantly. He paused, then added, “But we broke out -”

“Of course we broke out!” yelped L33t. “It's what villains do! They throw us in minimum security, you figure out a way to get out, I slap together something that fits the situation, and we're out of there. But that's beyond the point! We're not small fry any more. We're big time! And what happens to 'big time' when it's captured by the PRT? Especially trying to steal Endbringer material?”

I took pity on L33t. “It's all right,” I told him. “You don't have to come along. I can handle it. All we have to do is pinpoint the exact location of the vault. I teleport in, neutralise the security systems, load up the Endbringer material, and jump out again. Easy as pie.”

L33t fixed me with a glare, his fists clenched. “No,” he informed me bluntly. “Not as easy as pie. Do you honestly think that they wouldn't have planned for teleporters? What if they've got a teleport jammer like yours, already fired up? You jump in and then what happens? They pump the place full of containment foam, that's what happens. And then the next thing you see is a PRT squad armed with anti-armour weapons, backed up by Legend or Eidolon. Think again.”

I paused, sobered by his vehemence. “You don't know that it'll be like that.” Though what he'd said did make a certain amount of sense, now that I came to think about it.

“That's almost exactly how it'll be,” Über put in. “It's how I'd do it. Only probably more sneaky than that, because if there's one thing the government's good at, it's hiring experts to protect stuff they want protected. Including, almost certainly, Thinkers and Tinkers. Hell, Dragon probably had a hand in designing the vault. And I'm good, but I don't ever want to bet against her when it comes to stealing something she's protecting.”

Like L33t, he made a lot of sense. My infiltration plan, which I'd previously considered to be brilliant in its simplicity, was beginning to look positively slapdash. Not to mention downright idiotic. “Okay, then.” I reached out and pulled a chair over. Spinning it around, I sat down and folded my arms over the back of the chair. “So talk to me. I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that we can't just hack the electronic protections, like we did with North Side.”

“That's a roger,” Über agreed. “They're likely to have people watching critical points. If we change anything, we've got to assume that somebody will notice.” He rubbed his chin. “There's three ways to do this. The first is to make sure the alarms never go off. That involves screwing with the sensors in some way.”

I could see that, but where I was falling down was the 'how'. “Won't they notice the sensors being screwed with?”

He touched the tip of his nose and pointed at me with his other hand. “Okay, now you're thinking. What's the second way?”

“Hm.” I rested my chin on my crossed arms. “Don't set the alarms off in the first place?” It was plausible, I figured, but not necessarily doable. While the holocloak on my armour could technically act as an invisibility field, I didn't have any faith in its ability to hide me from whatever sensors were active within the vault.

“Correct.” Now L33t was getting in on the act. “Can you guess what the third one is?” He must have seen the dubious look on my face, because he shook his head slightly. “Bro, I'm astonished,” he said, just a little sarcastically. “It's taken her this long to admit she doesn't know everything?”

“Okay, fine,” I snapped, feeling a little put upon. “So what's the third way, smartass?”

L33t turned to Über. “Can I tell her, or do you want to?” He didn't seem to be eager or gloating any more. I was abruptly reminded that the boys had been doing this for years before I'd joined them. True, they had become a byword for incompetence and failure, but they'd survived to do so, and in the process they'd obviously picked up a few tricks.

Über nodded. “Go ahead.” He didn't seem all that pleased to see me caught short, either.

“The third way's one that you've done before,” L33t explained briskly. “Walk into the trap, set off the alarms, then disarm the response before it has a chance to impact you. It's the riskiest, of course. Requires you to spend more time on site than the other two.”

“Oh.” I sat there for a moment, letting the information soak into my brain. Then I smiled as the pieces came together. “I've got it.”

“Good.” L33t looked over my machine again. “Trust me, I know all too well what it's like to not be able to -”

“No,” I interrupted him as the plan unfolded in my mind. Unlike my previous one, this one actually had some forethought backing it up. “I know how to get the Endbringer material from the vault.” A new wrinkle occurred to me, and my smile broadened. “And if we do it right, they'll never know how it was done. Or that it was even us.”

“Wait.” Über raised his hands. “Stop. Even if you think you can do it, we still haven't pinpointed the exact location of the vault.”

I grinned at him. “That's the beauty of it. We don't have to.”

“Whoa, whoa!” L33t protested heatedly. “Forget the location of the vault. Is this gonna be an anonymous job? Pwnage's rep's at stake here, guys. We need to do something to top our last outing.”

Über fixed him with a fishy eye. “Are you really certain that you want to help break into an ultra-security vault in Washington, DC, steal thirty-six pounds of the most infamous material on Earth, and then sign your work? Just curious.”

I watched L33t's expression change. “Um.” He glanced around my work-room, then back at Über. “I, uh … can I take that back? Let's not publicise this one, okay?”

“But, guys,” I protested. “I'm not gonna steal it. I'm gonna leave an IOU. That makes it all right, doesn't it?” With just a little difficulty, I restrained myself from laughing out loud.

From the look on Über's face, he was having the same problem. “Probably not,” he decided. “In fact, best you don't leave any potential clues. Because they are going to be looking for us. Or rather, for whoever heisted their Endbringer material. And if they ever pin it on us …” He let the statement trail off.

“Which raises the question.” L33t was looking at me curiously. “How are you going to get into the vault without setting off the alarm? You're not gonna nudge the base up against it, are you? Because there's two problems with that.”

“I know, and that's why I'm not doing that,” I assured him. Even if we did make a doorway from the base into the vault, I knew that just stepping through would set off major alarms. And besides, we still didn't have exact coordinates for the vault.

Über folded his arms. “Okay, so spill. How are you going to get into that vault?”

I absolutely lived for moments like this. “Okay, so this is what we're gonna be doing …”

<><>

Monday, February 7, 2011
Kaiser's Office

Max sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Calm down, Henderson. I'm not asking for access to anything truly important. Just the secret identities of anyone in … the new team that Über and L33t and Hax have formed. Whatever you've got. I'll make it well worth your while, as per usual.” Confidential informants, he decided, were simply not up to scratch any more. He'd no sooner broached the subject than the man suddenly became a lot more nervous about the whole deal. “I know for a fact that Über and L33t are in the system.”

“Sir, I understand that this is important to you,” Henderson began. “I, uh, saw the clip too. But … uh … there's a problem.”

Inhaling deeply, Max let his breath out slowly. “Is it a problem that would go away with the application of more money, Henderson? Because you're not irreplaceable.” He allowed the threat to hang in the air for a moment. “I need a name. Do not disappoint me.”

“Okay, sir. I just need you to understand this. Hax is … really big news. I mean, all of her details, everything we know about her, it's all locked down so hard that it needs the Director's personal okay to access any of it. And -”

“What?” Max's head jerked up. “You have details on Hax? Who is she? What are her powers? Why haven't you acted on the information that you've got?”

Henderson's voice was nervous. “Because we can't prove it. And because Alexandria came to town and laid down the law. The only way we get to arrest her is if we catch her in costume, or we can prove a solid link between her cape identity and who we think she is.”

“What?” Max couldn't believe what he was hearing. “So prove it. She's committed several high-profile crimes in Brockton Bay. Surely you can put together a trail of evidence.” Am I actually lecturing a PRT trooper on how to make a case? But if it got Hax out of his hair, it was as good a method as any. Wait … Alexandria? “What's Alexandria got to do with all this?”

“All I know is that they had her civilian persona under surveillance while she was robbing that armoured car and beating up on Glory Girl,” Henderson said. “I don't know the details, or her real name. Or even what her power's supposed to be, except that it isn't duplication. All that information's been compartmentalised, hard.”

“But why?” Max was getting more baffled by the second. “And what about Alexandria?”

“I don't know why, sir, but I heard on the grapevine that Alexandria told Piggot that Hax was really important. I mean, seriously important. On the scale of Legend or Eidolon. So unless we can catch her dead to rights, we're pretending we don't know squat about her. Or so I've been told.”

This wasn't making any sense at all. Yes, the irritating new cape was extremely capable. She'd proven that by successfully robbing Lung on the first encounter, then luring him into a trap with the PRT on the second. She'd also emerged victorious from fights with Brutes, and shown herself to be a Tinker of some capability. Could she be using L33t's tech? No, it hasn't exploded yet.And then, of course, there was the Coil episode. She seems overly sensitive to the idea of teenage girls being kidnapped. Maybe I should stage a kidnapping and lure her into a trap.

He mentally filed away that idea as 'plan B' and returned his attention to the phone call. “Okay, Henderson. I won't go near Hax. What about Über and L33t? They're in the system. Can you give me their information?”

His contact hesitated before speaking. “Technically, yes, sir.”

“'Technically'?” He noted that the information had not yet been forthcoming. “What's the problem now?”

“I'm pretty sure there's a watch on that information, sir.” Henderson sounded apologetic. “I could check it, but then there'd be a record that I'd done it. And if that information showed up elsewhere, then everyone who's accessed it would be under the microscope. Any excuse I made for checking it would have to be airtight.” He didn't have to say any more. If Max ordered him to get it, Henderson would be burned as far as the PRT was concerned.

It had taken some time and effort to get Henderson as far into the PRT as he was. He'd never put a foot wrong, had never allowed even the breath of impropriety to taint his career. Was it really worth losing a valuable asset like Henderson, just to get the dirt on Über and L33t?

“I understand,” he said at last, hating the taste the words left in his mouth. Backing down was not something he ever did by choice. “I might contact you later. Be ready.”

“Yes, sir.” Henderson hung up.

Max took the burner phone away from his ear and shut it down. Then he hurled it at the far wall, as hard as he could. The plastic case shattered and the bits fell to the floor in a scattered pattern.

Plan B was looking more and more attractive all the time.

<><>

Washington, DC
Near PRT Department 24
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
0832 AM

Kathryn Grant accepted the cup of coffee from the street vendor and took half a dozen steps before someone spoke from behind her. “Excuse me, ma'am?”

She looked around, automatically on guard at the strange voice. The man was tall, at least six inches over her own five-foot-six. However, no matter how well-built he was—and she had to admit, he was ripped—he didn't hold himself like a trained soldier. In fact, not only was he wearing thick-lensed horn-rimmed glasses, but he was also hunched forward slightly in a way that she'd seen a dozen times before, on big men who went through life subtly apologising for being so tall. The only thing in his hands was a tourist map, inexpertly refolded.

Grant wasn't career PRT, but she'd done the basic training before taking up her position as Deputy Director West's executive assistant. She was rated 'expert' with the snub-nosed pistol that resided inside her purse, just inches from her hand, and she made sure to keep current with her hand to hand training. This guy was big, but he was sending all the wrong signals for someone to be a danger to her. It occurred to her that the glasses could be fake, but when she glanced that way, she saw the telltale distortion of heavy magnification. Christ, he must be nearly blind without them. Nonetheless, she didn't relax all the way.

“Yes?” she asked, her fresh cup of coffee in her left hand—at the first sign of trouble, kick him under the kneecap, step back and pull the gun—and her right hovering over her purse. She knew she looked like an executive on her way to an important meeting, because she carefully fostered that look. Her hair was brushed forward to conceal the Bluetooth earpiece; tapping that twice would call on a PRT ready-response group, less than three minutes away. “Can I help you?”

He offered a sheepish smile. “Really sorry to bother you,” he said, opening the map. “But I was looking for the nearest BART station, and I just can't figure this map out.”

It took her a few seconds to puzzle out what he was talking about, and to place his accent. “Oh!” She smiled, shaking her head. “Sorry, sir. This isn't the West Coast. In DC, we call it the MetroRail, or just Metro for short.” She stepped closer, still watching his body language. Everything about him said 'harmless lunk' but she never took anything for granted. With her right hand, she pointed; this close, she'd be able to throw the coffee up under his glasses into his eyes if he grabbed at her. “See there and there, the 'M' symbols? That's what you're looking for.”

He pushed up his glasses in a classic 'nerd' gesture—this close, she could see the marks that a pocket protector had left on his shirt—and peered more closely. “Oh, is that what they are?” He snorted a self-deprecating laugh. “I swear, I'm getting more blind every day.”

“That's all right, sir.” His watch beeped, but she resisted the impulse to look down at it. In her peripheral vision, it appeared to be even more complicated than the timepieces most nerds wore. She wouldn't have been surprised if it was set up to receive cable TV. “You have a safe day, sir.”

“You too,” he began. “Thanks again for—look out!”

At his exclamation, she stepped back, the coffee sloshing in the cup as her hand dipped into her purse. But he wasn't moving on her; in fact, he seemed to be looking behind her. She'd checked-six about ten seconds ago, and there hadn't been anyone there then, but she glanced around, just in time to see a small feathered form out of the corner of her eye. Too late, she ducked and flung up an arm. Black wings flapped at the back of her head, and a sharp pain shot through her scalp. Then the wings were beating skyward; looking up, she saw through tear-filled eyes something that could've been one of any type of bird disappearing into the distance.

“Holy crap,” the tourist said, staring after it, his hand shading his eyes. “That's the first time I've seen a crow do that in February.” He looked down at Kathryn. “Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

“I'm fine.” The words came automatically to her lips, even as she cautiously felt the back of her head. The pain had already receded, and when she inspected her fingertips, there was no blood on them. “Did that thing just get my hair?”

He shrugged. “I guess. It happened a bit quick for me. Are you sure you're okay?”

The obvious concern in his voice brought a reluctant smile from her. “Yes, I'm sure. I'll be fine. It was just a bit of hair.” To her relief, her shoulder-length dark hair hadn't been overly disarranged. “Thanks anyway. Now I've got to go, or I'll be late.” Smoothing her hair down, she turned and walked away from him, keeping an ear out for hurried footsteps behind her.

No such footsteps occurred. After thirty seconds, she looked back to see him meandering the other way down the street, still studying his map. Carefully, she scanned the sky, just in case the importunate bird was awaiting another chance to strike. Fortunately, this did not seem to be the case. Crows nest-building in February. Who knew?

With a sigh, she took a sip from her coffee. It was delicious, as always. Already, the tiny ache from where the hair had been taken was receding.

<><>

Über

Shambling down the street, Über slowed his steps at the entrance to an inviting-looking alleyway. Nobody seemed to be watching, so he ducked into it and pressed a button on his overly-ornate watch. Seconds later, a shimmering grey rectangle flickered into being on the brick wall before him. He stepped through, into the base. Or rather, into the rearranged base. Half of it had been set aside for L33t's workspace, while Hax had claimed the other half. Uber walked between the two sections, to a section of the shimmering grey wall where a bundle of electrical cords protruded through from another portal.

He stepped through into the living room of an apartment. L33t looked up from where he was extracting the tangle of hairs from the beak of the bird, and tossed him a careless salute. "How'd it go, dude?" he asked. "She make you?" The bird rolled a realistic-looking eye and let out a harsh caw before L33t reached in through the feathers and switched it off. Its eyes dimmed and its beak drooped.

Über shook his head as he took the watch off and dropped it on to the cradle that L33t had designed for it. “She was wary as hell.” Straightening up, he felt the pull of the tape that had been placed across his shoulders as a reminder. It felt good to stand upright again. “But my harmless-idiot act worked perfectly.” He removed the glasses, then carefully took out the contacts he'd been wearing, storing them in their respective cases. “The bird was a good distraction. Did it actually get any hair?"

"Yup." L33t's voice was positively gleeful. Pulling a plastic glove on to his hand, he flipped a magnifier down over his right eye. Carefully using the gloved hand to straighten out the strands of hair, he examined the ends. "And if I'm not much mistaken, we even got a little skin from her scalp as well."

"Excellent." Trailing delicious odours behind her, Alibi exited the kitchen nook of the apartment. "That'll give me a head start on the DNA extraction." She leaned over his shoulder and eyed the strands of hair. "Is that how long she wears it?"

"Pretty much." Über looked down as the cradle chimed. Orange LEDs changed to green, one after the other. "And it looks like I got a good solid body scan on her, too."

"Even better." L33t tucked the hair away into a plastic container and handed it to Alibi, who put it in her pocket. "So, does she wear glasses? Jewellery? A watch?"

Über grinned. "A watch and a necklace, yes. But I saw something else when the bird hit her." He tapped his ear. "Bluetooth."

L33t's eyes lit up. "Dude. You rock."

“Hey.” Über shrugged, faux-modestly. “You guys did the heavy lifting with your tech work. I just suckered her in and kept her talking till the bird could hit her from behind. Piece of cake.”

“Well, talking about cake,” Alibi noted as she headed back toward the kitchen, “I just finished baking your favourite. Figure it'll be cool enough to eat by the time I get there.”

Über held up his hand; without needing a prompt, L33t high-fived him. All this and cake, too? Life just kept getting better and better.

Of course, we've got a ways to go yet. But Hax's plan was solid. All they had to do was pull it off.

The most irritating part, of course, was that they'd never be able to tell anyone how they did it. 

Part 30