“The girl interrogated Bevan Bonner four days ago. Every night since, she’s consistently broken into officer’s homes all around the city, asking after a man called Jun Bloom.” The Commissioner put his elbows on the desk and folded his hands. A hologram revolved on the desk - some sort of metallic helmet with white, diamond-shaped eyes. An artist’s rendition of the suspect.

“What’s she wearing, a bike helmet?” Dante asked.

Lawson waved at the hologram, and it became an image of a girl dressed in some sort of full-body armour. “That’s what she’s wearing. Never seen anything like it.”

“Well, who is this Jun Bloom she’s after?”

“No idea,” Lawson said, gazing at his metallic fingers, “he’s been arrested a few times on suspicion of various things. But he always seems to get away with it.”

“Huh. Maybe we should lend her a hand. He sounds like trouble.”

Lawson shrugged, “Either way, I need you to interview a suspect.”

“We have a suspect?”

“Saavi Varma. Daughter of Ekram and Eshana Varma - the victims in the case file this… vigilante was after, on her first night out.”

It was the obvious place to start. Though, for her sake, he hoped she wasn’t wrapped up in any of this. “Alright.” Dante said, getting to his feet, “I’ll see what I can find.”

The Commissioner only nodded, deep in thought. In Dante’s opinion, he was taking this case too seriously. Although, they’d never been able to track down the thieves who stole Dr Ebert’s energy source. Maybe that was what powered this home-made armour. And that sort of power was dangerous in anyone’s hands.

*

Southside University was a long drive away from the police station, but it was pleasant compared to the overstuffed trains. Dante rolled the window down, letting the warm air in. The mid-August sun flickered in the sky, obscured now and then by a passing cloud. It was a shame the city had gotten rid of most of its green spaces - even the occasional trees lining the streets were either withered or artificial. Something Isla had consistently complained about, over their five years of marriage.

A marriage that’s now ruined.

The address pointed to a modest apartment block, probably used exclusively by students. He took the elevator to the fourth floor, and knocked on apartment 22B. Once. Twice. He put his ear to the door. Nothing moved on the other side. Dante groaned. The ride over had been pleasant, sure, but not something he would do for the hell of it.

He checked the file again, and dialled the number. A young woman answered in a sing-song voice, “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Saavi Varma?”

“Yes, and who’s this?”

“I’m Detective Dante Alvarez, working with the police. I’m at your apartment by Southside University. I have a few questions for you.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Can you tell me what this is about?”

Good question. She had a right to know, but if word got out about a masked figure interrogating police officers, the media would jump on it, and next thing you know, everyone is seeing shadows on their rooftops. “Just a break-in in the area.” he said, “Nothing serious.”

“Oh, okay. Do you mind if I answer your questions over the phone? I know it’s not the way you’re supposed to do things, but I’m at my Uncle’s house.”

Over the phone? She was right, it wasn’t the way you were supposed to do things. Nor the way he liked to do them. Reading someone’s thoughts was hard in person, it was almost impossible over the phone.

“Where is your Uncle’s house?”

“Oh, in the outskirts of the city. Drumbleton.”

Wonderful. Half an hour away by train.

“How long have you been there?”

“The past few weeks.”

“Not attending university?”

“Oh, uni’s out for the summer, Mr Alvarez.”

“I see. That’s all for now, Miss Varma. We’ll get back to you.” He hung up before she could answer, scratching at his stubble. As expected, a phone call was useless for any sort of interrogation. He’d drive down to Drumbleton just to make sure, but why were they suspecting a nineteen year-old girl, anyway? She hadn’t even asked him to verify that he was a police officer. She’d simply taken it at face value. Of course, he couldn’t let small things like that weigh on his judgement but… she seemed like a good kid. And if she really was smart enough to build a military-grade armour, she wouldn’t be tripped up by a well-placed question.

There must be a better way of going about this, he thought.

He dialled Lawson, who picked up on the first ring.

“How’s she finding out who to interrogate? The vigilante, I mean?”

“I’m not sure. It seems they’ve all had interactions with Jun Bloom.”

“Check the databases. If she’s just working her way down…”

He heard the click-clacking of keys from Lawson’s side, and then a low whistle of surprise.

“You’re right,” he said, after a brief pause, “she must have access to the databases. She’s going through the list, interrogating anyone who’s been in contact with Bloom. That means-”

“We know where she’ll be next.” Dante said, smiling. It seemed even intelligent people could make some silly mistakes. “Tonight, then?”

Lawson chuckled, “Tonight. Good work, Dante.”

He shrugged, “I learnt from the best.”

*

By eight o’clock, they had no less than twenty gunmen on the roofs surrounding Officer Barton’s apartment block, decked out in black SWAT gear, powerful rifles at their sides. They were out of sight, assuming she took the route they expected her to. A shaky online video had revealed that she used the trains for transport, and somehow her suit made her capable of scaling buildings in seconds. Its other capabilities were unknown, which made Dante a little nervous, even though his scout post was far from the action.

The train had come in a few minutes ago. The station wasn’t far from here, and Dante’s palms had started to sweat on the binoculars. Nonetheless, he kept a steady eye on the rooftops leading up to Barton’s apartment, ready to alert the SWAT team and Commissioner Lawson at a moment’s notice.

A figure came into his field of view, vaulting over the side of a building. She was moving way faster than he imagined, and gracefully too, flipping, turning and twisting between buildings like a cat - never hesitating to wonder if she would land on her feet the next time. He gave the word to the SWAT team, “I have her in my sights. Route A.”

“Route A, copy that. Clifton, you got eyes on her?”

“Yup, I got her. Should be in position in about fifteen seconds.”

“Copy that.”

With a final pounce, she landed on the apartment building. At the same time, the roof-access door opened, and Commissioner Lawson stepped out, hands behind his back. She froze. Red laser-dots covered her torso. Lawson raised a hand, and Dante could read his lips from here: Please remain calm. I just have some questions for you.

The girl nodded, raising her hands. Dante chuckled.

“Well, that’s the end of her career.”