Trump Card
Part Ten
Director Piggot lifted the phone. "Piggot."
"Ma'am, this is Major Donnelly, Rapid Reaction Squad. We attended the location and found both Vista and Aegis on site. Both had been subdued and secured. Only one perpetrator escaped while we were there."
"Escaped?" she snapped. "How?"
"Uh, he was flying, ma'am," the major reported. "He was wearing dark clothes and a black balaclava; no identifying costume, goggles over his eyes. Velocity tried to follow, but lost him in the dark."
Piggot gritted her teeth. "What do Aegis and Vista have to say for themselves? They were advised to hold position and ambush the perpetrators on the way out."
"Yes, ma'am," agreed the major, "but they were attacked from within the building while waiting outside. They chose to enter and engage the perpetrators over allowing themselves to be made into targets."
Piggot could not fault that logic. "How many perpetrators were involved in subduing them?"
"Vista thinks there were two of them, but Aegis thinks that it was only one," he replied. "There was one that could fly, and had a ranged electrical weapon, and another that was some sort of Mover. They were both fairly strong, and trained in taking people down non-lethally. Vista was taken down with a sleeper hold, and Aegis was subdued using nerve strikes."
The Director frowned. "I thought he was immune to that sort of thing."
"According to him, these nerve strikes would have crippled or killed an ordinary person."
"So the perpetrator was trying to kill him."
"In my opinion, ma'am, he knew exactly how much punishment Aegis could take, and took him down as non-lethally as he could."
"Thank you for your opinion, Major," replied Director Piggot dryly. "So how much property damage was done?"
"Surprisingly little, ma'am. Vastly less than the potential cost of whatever was stolen."
"Do we know what that was, yet?"
"No, ma'am. The keyholders are still on their way here."
"I see. Let me know as soon as they arrive, or if there are any other developments in the case."
"Will do, ma'am."
Emily Piggot hung up the phone, and sat back in her chair, thinking hard.
A cape without a costume ... knew exactly how hard to hit Aegis ... could fly and exhibit Mover capabilities, as well as enough strength to take down Aegis ... I wonder ...
She picked up the phone again.
The phone in Armsmaster's helmet rang. He dropped the last Empire Eighty-Eight thug and racked his halberd. His eye found the appropriate drop-down menu.
"You've reached Armsmaster."
"This is the Director. I'm dispatching a detail of troops to a particular location; specifically, the house owned by Daniel Hebert. I'm sending you the address now. I want you to meet them there."
"Certainly, Director. What am I looking for, once I'm there?"
"His daughter."
"I'm ... not sure I understand."
"I'll explain once you're on the way."
Über and L33t dropped me off a block away from my house; I did not want them knowing where I lived. I left the duffel and the backpack in the back seat; I trusted that they wouldn't backstab me this early in the game.
And if they did, they'd no longer have the backup of Hax.
Once I was out of the car, I started running. Among the physical-conditioning skills I'd acquired using Über's power was long-distance running. I'd practised running every day; I was pretty good at it, even when I didn't have the power to fall back on.
I was halfway there, and just beginning to think I might make it, when the inevitable happened; I heard a deep-throated engine noise, and then a motorcycle swept out of a side street, and turned on to the road I was running down.
As it got within twenty yards of me, my goggles lit off with a red dot in the lower edge of the HUD; there was a cape behind me. I glanced around behind me to confirm it, which may have been a mistake, for a moment later, all the lights in creation started glaring off of that bike.
Go to the Hebert house. Surround it; detain Taylor Hebert if she tries to enter or leave. If you find her doing anything whatsoever suspicious, bring her in for questioning.
At first, Armsmaster had found those orders to be mildly dubious; how did Director Piggot even connect the North Side robbery to a freshly-triggered cape? But then, as the known details of the Hebert girl's powerset were uploaded to his helmet, he saw her logic. If the girl had acquired Tinker tech from somewhere, or even linked up with a criminal Tinker, then it would all fall into place.
And there weren't all that many criminal Tinkers in Brockton Bay. He dismissed Squealer from the running almost immediately; her focus was totally different to the tech which had been exhibited during the robbery.
Which left ... L33t?
Such was his disdain for the less-respected half of the team of Über and L33t, that he nearly dismissed him as well. Except that, despite his many failures - some of them hilariously spectacular - the man was still a Tinker, and he could conceivably have created the portal doorway, and the wireless taser that had been used on Aegis.
Except, on the other hand, L33t's reputation was all about his devices failing dramatically, even explosively. And these devices ... had not.
Armsmaster considered himself a methodical man, a logical one, both of which were true. He also believed that he had a deep sense of humour, which was not. He didn't even crack a smile at the ludicrous thought of Über and L33t planning and pulling off a heist like that, and getting clean away.
The logical part of his mind, while it accepted Piggot's viewpoint on how it could have been someone with the Hebert girl's Trump capabilities allied with the less-than-stellar duo, objected on simpler grounds. Namely, that no theme had been adhered to, no video game had been referenced, and most importantly, the robbery had not been recorded and broadcast on Über and L33t's video blog.
So, on the whole, Armsmaster was reasonably willing to expect that the whole thing was a wild-goose chase, a product of Director Piggot's dislike of capes in general, and capes not in the Protectorate in particular.
Until he cruised around the corner, and caught the black-clad figure in his headlight beam, running down the middle of the road. The figure - he could not tell if it was male or female, just that it might be skinny - glanced over its shoulder. He caught a glimpse of a full-face black mask, with goggles.
The perp or perps who took down Aegis and Vista had been wearing full black outfits, with goggles.
With a flick of the thumb, he turned the headlight to high-beam; at the same time, he triggered the forward-mounted spotlights. He didn't want to lose Hebert - if it was indeed her - in the darkness.
At the same time, he gunned the throttle.
I heard the engine note increase, and I knew I was within seconds of being run down and captured by Armsmaster, within minutes of safety. The irony was sickening.
Almost by instinct, as he came within ten yards, I put the light-spot on him; immediately, I began getting the data feed from his powers. It was all about building things more efficiently, more streamlined. I knew how machinery worked, on an almost visceral level, and how to make it work better.
A part of me wanted to stop, to give up, to let it all be over. The Protectorate was everywhere; I couldn't beat them.
Another part of me told the first part to stop snivelling, pull up its socks, to reach down and find a pair. Then I hunched my shoulders, turned a sharp right, and sprinted.
I had been running in near-darkness for a few moments before Armsmaster had come out of the side street; apart from that one glance over my shoulder, my night vision was pretty good.
He wasn't ready for my turn and sudden acceleration; I wasn't up to Olympic standard, but I was light and fast, and I could pile on the pace for a short time. And a short time was all I needed.
He tried to cut the corner, but he'd already begun to accelerate, and from the sound of the engine and the heft of the bike, I was fairly sure I could calculate its turning radius. So I cut inside him, and heard the engine bellow past, just a couple of yards behind me. His brakes were already squealing, but I knew his stopping distance to a foot or so. Even as he threw himself from the bike, I was hurdling the first hedge, with track and field skills that I had not possessed a month ago.
He tried to follow, but by the time he got past the first hedge, I had already vaulted over the back fence and was halfway across the next yard.
I knew what his next move would be; to get back on his bike, and beat me to my house. Which he probably would. But I wasn't going to lie down and die, quite yet.
Calling on my brand-new parkour skills, I jumped from a swing-set to a fence, to the roof of a house. Sprinted up the gable-end, trying not to loosen the ceramic tiles from under my feet. Along the roof ridge. And nearly came to a screeching halt, because the house roof I 'd been going to jump to was just too far away.
But then I saw something else, and smiled. Instead of slowing down, I accelerated. Down the slope of the roof, gaining traction from the tiles. Leaped, as far as I could.
Landed, already crouched, not on the house roof, which I still would not have reached, but on the trampoline beside it. The springs creaked as the mat stretched downward; I could have sworn that one of my feet touched ground for an instant. And then they rebounded, flinging me upward and forward; I kicked off at the same instant, adding that to my final impetus.
I hit the grass in the next yard over, rolled, and came to my feet running. Vaulted the fence as though it wasn't even there. Sprinted around the side of the house. All I had to do was get out of this yard, cross the side-street, and I'd be in my own back yard, literally.
And then I skidded to a halt. Shining across the driveway, which I had just been about to bolt down, was a particularly bright beam of light. Armsmaster was here already; he was sitting on the bike, ready to catch me if I darted out in front of him.
Or was he?
My goggles said he wasn't; my power said the same thing. He was standing up at the corner, waiting for me to do something tricky, like try to dart past behind the bike.
Crap.
I was just considering trying to ambush him with my taser pistol, in the hope that he hadn't proofed his armour against things like that, when I heard the truck coming. I knew for a fact that this was not a good thing.
Or is it?
Time was running out for me; I whirled and ran, vaulted another fence – this parkour stuff was cool – and sprinted out past a house, diving and rolling to end up behind an ornamental bush, not twenty yards from Armsmaster. But right alongside the street that the truck was coming along.
I had to time this just right. I waited until the truck was almost level, till the beams of the headlights had passed me by. Then I came up from behind the bush like a sprinter from the starting block. The truck had nearly passed me by -
I leaped, and grabbed the ropes holding the tarp down. Swung my legs up, so I didn't get hit by the back wheel. Found purchase with the toes of my dark-coloured sandshoes. Hung on for dear life.
And then the truck rumbled to a stop, right next to Armsmaster. Fortunately, he was facing the other way, obviously still watching for any attempt from me to break across the side-street.
I couldn't overhear what was said, and I couldn't see their faces to lip-read, but it was probably something along the lines of "I'll watch this side, you form a perimeter." It's what I would have done.
The truck jerked into motion, nearly causing me to lose my grip, then moved on, across the top of the T-junction formed by the side-street. I literally passed within two yards of Armsmaster, who had fortunately turned to focus all his attention on the side-street.
Even as the truck was slowing to a halt outside my house, I kicked free, landed, rolled, and sprinted up the driveway alongside the house.
Behind me, I heard boots hitting the ground. "Hey!" someone yelled. "I saw something! In the yard!"
Fuck.
"Flashlights!" someone else shouted. "Fan out! Surround the house! Cover the entrances!"
I saw powerful flashlights come on, splashing on the ground as the men ran around the house. I crouched in the darkness in front of Dad's car, huddling half under the bumper, as they ran past me on either side, on their way to the back of the house.
My goggles and my power showed me that Armsmaster was on the move, heading over toward the house, even as I heard a heavy banging on the front door.
Oh shit. They're going to check my room. Where I'm not.
I had seconds, at most. Men would be coming back around to my side of the house. Establishing a perimeter. One that, without a nearby cape, I would have a great deal of trouble circumventing. An infinite amount of trouble, if I was found to not be in my room.
There were already men in the back yard; I couldn't go in through the back door.
I heard the front door open; Dad's voice raised in protest, others overriding him. Going into the house.
Moving as stealthily as I could, I climbed on top of the car. My window was open just a little; I liked the night breezes. In the near-dark, I studied the wall.
Before I had gotten my powers, I would have considered it an impassable obstacle. But since meeting Über ... not so much.
Gathering myself, I jumped at the wall. My feet found purchase, just for an instant, as did my fingertips, and I flung myself upward. One hand slapped over the windowsill. I scrabbled, heard a shout from the back yard. "Hey, I think I heard something!"
"Who's around that side?"
"I thought you were!"
Shit shit shit fuck.
Flashlights were literally shining on the ground directly below me.
My free hand slithered inside, undid the latch, opened the window wide. With a convulsive heave, I launched myself up and through the window. On to my bed.
I reached out, pulled the window almost shut. A flashlight beam splashed through the window, lit up my ceiling, instants later.
"Hey, did something just move up there?"
"I dunno, did it?"
"Must have been a bat or something." The flashlight moved away.
Whew.
But there were voices coming up the stairs. My father, protesting. Other voices, demanding. They were literally seconds away.
I tore off the balaclava and goggles, peeled off the gloves. Yanked back the covers. Dived into bed as the voices stopped outside my room. "Let me go!" called Dad's voice. "Taylor's my daughter -"
The gloves and goggles lay atop the covers. Hastily, I shoved them out of sight.
The black sweater I was wearing would give me away; I pulled it off over my head, threw it across the room at my laundry hamper, even as the door began to open. Lay back, covers partially pulled over me. Closed my eyes.
The light came on as they crowded into my room. Three PRT men, each aiming a rifle at me. I blinked blearily, focused as well as I could – then pulled the covers up to my chin, and screamed.
My voice isn't the loudest, but I'm told I can hit a fairly piercing volume. The PRT men reflexively stepped back a pace.
I took a deep breath, and screamed again. Then I called out. "DAD! DAD! HELP!"
From outside the door, I heard him call out. "I'm here, Taylor! Let me go, you bastards!"
Armsmaster pushed his way into the room. He waved his arm downward, and the guns were lowered.
Fumbling on the nightstand, I found my glasses and put them on. Then I took a second look around the room. "What - what's going on?" I demanded, my voice full of fright that didn't have to be wholly faked.
Armsmaster stepped forward. "Miss Hebert, a crime was committed tonight that could have been carried out with your particular powerset. I merely want to ask you a yes-or-no -"
"No!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
He rocked back a little at the force of my denial.
"Is that a no, you didn't do it, or -"
"No! I'm not going to answer any questions! Get out of my bedroom, you perverts! I'm in my underwear, here! Get out!"
The PRT men started to move backward, toward the door. Armsmaster stood his ground. "This is a serious matter -"
"And so is this!" I yelled. "I'm fifteen! I'm a minor! You shouldn't even be in here! Do you even have a warrant to be in here?"
One of the PRT men stepped forward. "We're acting on reasonable suspicion -" he began, but I cut him off. Dealing With Guys 101 – thanks, Über.
"Reasonable suspicion my ass! You had some sort of crime happen, and just because it might possibly have been down to the one new cape in the city who's got a legitimate complaint against you, and you really want leverage over me, you decided to come in here all heavy-handed and see if you could catch me not being here! Well, I am here, so fuck the hell off out of my fucking bedroom!"
I had to inhale deeply after that speech, but I kept the glare up. Armsmaster might have been glaring back at me; I couldn't tell. His mouth was not the mouth of a happy man.
"Dad!" I called out.
"Taylor?" he replied.
"Go call the cops! We have home invaders!"
One of the PRT men stepped forward. "We're the PRT -"
"No!" I shouted at him. "You're strange men in the bedroom of a minor, who's in fear of her life! You're home invaders! Get out!"
Armsmaster shook his head. "You're not in fear of your life."
I glared at him. "Those aren't candy canes they're waving at me, mister. Hyperbole. It's a thing. Now, do you have a warrant?"
He sighed. "Apparently not."
"Have you caught me performing an illegal act?"
His lips thinned. "No."
"Then – HEY!" I yelled at one of the PRT men, who was reaching for my wardrobe door. "No search warrant means you're breaking the law! Get out of there!"
Armsmaster turned to him. "You heard her. Out of the room. Now."
It said something for his air of authority that they trooped out. He turned back to me, hands empty. "No guns. Now, can you answer my questions?"
I shook my head stubbornly. "Have you booted Shadow Stalker yet?"
If his lips got any thinner, they would disappear altogether. "No."
"Then fuck off. I'm going back to sleep." I rolled over – incidentally, on to the goggles, which dug painfully into my ribs – and pulled the covers up to just below my eyes.
"Miss Hebert, have you allied yourself with Über and L33t?"
I ignored him.
"Miss Hebert, did you rob the North Side Storage Facility tonight?"
I put on a very obvious fake snore.
He sighed. "Miss Hebert. Understand this. I believe you did all of that. It's only a matter of time before I get proof. If you give yourself up before then -"
My arm snaked out from under the covers, and I gave him the finger.
He waited for a few more moments, then he turned and left the room. The light clicked off, then the door closed behind him.
I pulled my glasses off, eased the goggles over my eyes, and switched them on. The spot of light that indicated Armsmaster's location was moving away. Down the stairs. Across the living room. Out the door.
On cue, I heard the front door closing.
Armsmaster got on his bike, and then moved away, faster and faster, until he was out of the range of both my goggles and my power. I heard the truck start up, and follow him.
I let out a long breath that I hadn't even known I was holding.
A few moments later, Dad tapped on the door to my room. I'd taken the time to divest myself of the rest of my infiltration gear, and to put on a bathrobe.
"Come in," I called.
He switched on the light as he entered. I was sitting on the bed. I looked up at him.
"Taylor," he began, worriedly. "I -"
I stood up and hugged him; he hugged me back.
When we disengaged, he stepped back, putting his hands on my shoulders, and looked me in the face. "What was that about, Taylor?"
I shook my head. "Better you don't know, Dad."
He frowned. "Are you doing something illegal? Because I -"
I took a deep breath. "I'm doing what I gotta do."
He didn't seem to know what to say about that. "I … in the morning, I'm gonna call in every favour I have. We'll splash this across the media. PRT harassment ..."
I held up my hand. "No, Dad."
He pressed his lips together. "Why?"
"Because people will wonder, and they'll come to the right conclusion. This, so soon after the Winslow thing? I want people to forget. I don't want to be known as a cape."
He shook his head. "But they just violated a whole lot of your civil rights -"
I held up my hand; he stopped. "No. It's called 'hot pursuit'. They're allowed to ignore private property and other laws, if they can lay hands on the person after continuous pursuit."
He blinked. "And … were they pursuing you?"
I sighed. "If I don't tell you, you don't know, and you're not an accessory. But suppose that someone was hypothetically coming to this house, and Armsmaster hypothetically saw them, and gave chase, and that person hypothetically resembled someone who was in a robbery earlier tonight, who was hypothetically believed to be someone not entirely unlike me."
He stared at me, not saying a word.
"In that case, yes," I told him. "If they had come in here and there had been clear evidence that the person they were chasing was indeed me, then they would have been within their rights to arrest me. But there wasn't, so they couldn't."
"Taylor," he began quietly. "I … I don't know about all that. But … if you were a supervillain, I just need you to understand … I'm not going to ask difficult questions … but I wouldn't accept stolen money, either."
I had to laugh, as I hugged him. "Oh, Dad," I told him truthfully. "I'm not stealing money."
End of Part Ten