Ethan abruptly began to whistle a jaunty, annoying tune as he and Puppy started looping back up through the north end of downtown again. Had it been any other day, she undoubtedly would have lectured him on professionalism while on duty, and he would have teased her by playing up the wide-eyed, eager-to-please protégé or some other cliché stereotype to get her to fondly roll her eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking. Instead, she didn’t so much as acknowledge him, her head constantly swiveling back and forth as she scanned the area for any sign of trouble.
As for him… though he was putting on a show of nonchalance, it was all too apparent she saw right through the act.
His earbud came to life with Vista’s familiar voice. “Good afternoon, Battery, Assault. Taking over for Miss Militia,” she dutifully reported, a consummate professional. “How are things looking out there?”
A small smile found its way onto Ethan’s face in spite of the depressing mood that had been weighing down on him and Puppy. “Oh hey, Big Green. Almost forgot today’s your half day.”
There was a brief pause. Ethan could practically imagine the look on Vista’s face as she fought to suppress a scowl. It was no secret she detested monitor duty, but she never actually voiced complaints about it, likely in an ill-conceived attempt to appear mature. She was the youngest Ward at the tender age of twelve, but she was bound and determined to get everyone to treat her like she was older, and that apparently meant dedicating herself to running a shift on console after her middle school’s half days ended every Thursday.
She eventually settled on repeating and rephrasing her question as the appropriate response. “Have you run into any trouble?”
Well that was no fun at all, not rising to the bait! He had just begun to open his mouth to respond when Puppy cut him off. “We ran into a good bit of Empire activity earlier, but it’s been quiet for a bit since we moved north.”
That wasn’t a surprise. Though crime obviously still occurred in downtown as a whole, the north end of it had several hot targets that none of the gangs touched—namely Arcadia, Bay Central, and Palanquin. Operating around Arcadia was double trouble both for the heat it would bring from endangering the prestigious high school and because it was an open secret most of the Wards went to school there. Bay Central was ignored because precious little money was actually kept there and between the top of the line security, Arcadia being so close, and most Protectorate routes passing nearby, there was essentially nothing to gain.
As for Palanquin… Usually a nightclub being a location of interest to the local Protectorate meant it was a front for a local cape gang to sell drugs or sex, but while it was certainly true a group of capes were involved with Palanquin, the only drug being peddled there was alcohol. Unless the rumors of Newter handing out laced water were true, but the Protectorate and the PRT were turning a blind eye to those. The mercenary crew projected a metaphorical bubble around their club, not tolerating crime in their vicinity, and none of the criminal element thought it worth the effort to piss off the mercenaries when all they wanted was the area around their club on the hill. Nobody up top would ever admit it, Ethan was confident they were secretly relieved they could trust that area would be safe.
That was the case until recently, anyway.
“Okay, since things are quiet, the Director wants you to peel off to the Boardwalk, Assault. We just got word that suspected cape is there again.”
Ethan’s eyebrows rose. There had been some subdued exuberance in that last sentence, if his ears weren’t lying to him. But why would… Ah ha! “Oh, you don’t have to lie to me, Big Green. I’ll go see if I can’t get you another girl in the Wards. Should be smooth sailing. Everyone loves me, after all!”
Puppy facepalmed as Vista sputtered on the other end. “You are so full of yourself. Console, should he leave now or when we’re done sweeping the north end?”
It was a fair question after the events of the past week and a half. Lung had torched half the north end in the middle of the night, then later that same day, a fight broke out between Faultline’s crew and the Empire of all people that ended with the capture of Rune and the death of Othala. The Empire had predictably through various channels decried Meteor, who they blamed for the attack. Criminal activity linked to their foot soldiers surged, and the southern ends of downtown and the docks south practically became war zones overnight. Their capes however had been notably absent, perhaps playing things safe after the loss of their healer or perhaps waiting for something big. It didn’t take a Thinker to realize the neighborhood Lung had torched—where the Empire had lost two capes—were likely in their crosshairs, and Director Piggot had ordered Armsmaster to restructure the patrol routes to pass through the north end more often to keep an eye out.
“Now. Last sighting was only a couple minutes ago at the accessories boutique by the light bridge landing pad, so hopefully she won’t have moved far by the time you get there.”
“On my way,” Ethan said, throwing Puppy a quick wink before peeling off the route to head a dash east to the coast line. The PR people were always asking them to think about publicity on their patrols, so he may as well take the route that would bring him past the most people on the way there.
“Hey, ah, Assault?” Vista asked a few seconds after he left. “Miss Militia was really sombre when I swapped with her, and the schedule says Boudicca was supposed to be partnered with Battery today instead of you. Did… something happen?”
He winced for a moment before quickly schooling his expression into something more neutral as he neared the southern end of the Boardwalk. The Protectorate patrol schedule wasn’t a secret or anything, but he still hadn’t expected her to intuit what happened off that little information. “Boodie’s mother was killed today,” he gently explained.
The young hero gasped. “What happened?”
“I can’t say, sorry. It would likely give away her identity.” It wasn’t a lie. Though there had been other victims in the bombing, only a handful had died—a small blessing after such a brutal, senseless act. He didn’t follow the news religiously or anything, but he imagined there probably weren’t a tremendous amount of bombings in the world today, so it wouldn’t be that difficult to narrow down the possibilities.
Vista had nothing to say to that, and Ethan tactfully repressed the urge to make a joke in an ill-advised attempt to lighten the mood. Even he recognized that sometimes humor wasn’t the answer.
Even without Battery or Boudicca giving him a boost of kinetic energy to work with by punching him, Ethan’s power let him run ridiculously fast and jump reasonably high by manipulating the expenditure of kinetic energy. He easily cleared the distance to the low roof of the southernmost building on the Boardwalk then raced along the top of them. He ordinarily would have traveled slower and pandered a bit to the crowd below when they cheered at him, but time was of the essence. Despite there having been multiple sightings of the mysterious flute player this week, she had always vanished by the time anybody arrived to speak with her. If he didn’t go as quickly as he could, she might very well have vanished by the time he arrived.
At the blistering pace he moved, it didn’t take him very long to reach the shop Vista had indicated. He smiled widely when he heard the melodic playing, and it wasn’t just because he had gotten to the area in time. “Found her, Big Green. Definitely a cape of some kind—just hearing her play is making me feel like I’m on top of the world.”
“Awesome! Ah, sorry— Rodger, Assault. Please standby, relaying this to the Director."
He rolled his eyes fondly at her obvious exuberance. Probably hasn’t noticed the parallels with Canary yet. I wonder if she’ll still be excited about getting another female teammate when she realizes. It was a tossup, really, since she would in theory be used to the idea from working with Gallant. Her fellow Ward’s powers gave him a Master rating, but his emotional control was obvious not only because of the showiness of his blasts but also because the inflicted emotions were hardly subtle.
“You’re clear to approach, but please use caution and report for vetting afterward.”
“Saw that coming from a mile away,” he joked as he jumped off the roof before jogging off as if he hadn’t just dropped twenty feet and landed flat footed.
Everyone nearby seemed to be lighthearted as well, so the evidence of large scale mastering was mounting. For her sake, Ethan hoped the kid was willing to let him talk to her. This kind of power was dangerous and if she kept this up, she was liable to get snatched up by a gang or shot by somebody who was afraid of the next Canary. It wasn’t difficult to spot her, though he was surprised by her drab appearance. She was wearing the rattiest hoodie he’d seen in months over a pair of a threadbare pair of jeans, and her curly hair had been pulled up into a very messy bun to defend against the windy day. She had her flute to her lips and was playing along to something from memory as she sat on a bench, her eyes closed behind her glasses as she seemingly got lost in the music, and a few people had stopped by to listen and drop money in the open flute case next to her.
Ethan slowed his jog down to a walk, and several people pointed and whispered as he approached. He slipped around the crowd and leaned against the railing protecting against a drop to the sands below and patiently waited for her to finish the song, not wanting to interrupt. Eventually she finished with a little flourish of her flute and head, and the people nearby all clapped.
Her thin lips curled up into a wide expressive smile as her eyes opened, and she turned slightly to regard him, seemingly not very surprised he was there. “I was wondering when I would see one of you show up.”
“That right? If you’re a fan, does that mean I get a discount on requests?” He pulled a twenty from a pouch at his waist where he kept money on hand in case he wanted to grab a snack on shift. He waved it at the crowd and loudly said, “Do you folks think she’ll play Stairway to Heaven if we pony up enough?”
That got a laugh out of the adults, and most of them started reaching for their wallets.
“And what if I don’t know that song?” she drawled with a raised eyebrow.
He grinned. “Kid, if a street performer flutist as talented as you doesn’t know Stairway to Heaven, then I’ll eat my hat.” He gasped and made a show of feeling his head before adding, “Wait a sec, where’s my hat?”
“I prefer ‘flautist,’” she retorted over the chuckling crowd, as everyone threw money into the case. She was definitely making bank today, it seemed, but then, that had been Ethan’s intent.
“Gesundheit.”
She rolled her eyes at that before closing them as she brought the flute to her lips. Her fingers danced along the keys, and a blend of the guitar and flute lines merged into a melody that was unmistakably the famous song. Ethan expected her to finish once she reached the end of the intro, since that was where the flute stopped in the original song, but she plowed right ahead without a care. More and more people began to stop to listen as she dazzled the crowd with her skill, and Ethan couldn’t help but cheer when she got to the guitar solo and began to really get into it, popping up to her feet and absolutely shredding it. Eventually the last notes of the final, solemn words left her flute, and the accumulated crowd cheered their approval.
Her eyes popped open, and this time she actually seemed surprised. “Oh. Uh, thank you all,” she said with an awkward little wave that was completely incongruous with the rocker image she had portrayed as she played. Looking a little overwhelmed, she added, “I’m packing up for today. Thank you for listening!”
Everyone groaned, and several people begged her to keep playing. Ethan would have been one of them had he not needed a chance to speak with her privately, but he seized the opportunity, loudly saying, “Alright, let’s all give her one more round of applause!” They all applauded and cheered again, and the flute player flushed and looked down at the ground, clearly unused to praise. Several more people stepped forward to drop money in her case or thank her directly as the group dispersed, but eventually the two of them were left alone.
“Is there something I can help you with?” she flatly asked as she pulled a backpack out from under the bench and began to convey the money from her flute case into it.
“I was wondering if we could have a private conversation,” he carefully asked.
“It’s illegal to proposition a girl, much less one my age.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
He chuckled. “Not what I meant, but I’ve gotta give you props for having the guts to insinuate a hero is trying to pick up a teenager.”
She shrugged before glancing at the watch on her wrist. “All the same, I have an appointment to keep.” She paused in thought for a moment, turning to consider him, before adding, “Actually, if I could ask a favor?”
It took effort to keep his smile in place, his thoughts drifting to Canary. “I’ll certainly try my best, but I’ve gotta warn you, it’s tough to get Armsmaster to stop tinkering long enough to sign anything. He’s a real workaholic!”
“Nothing like that,” she said with a smirk as she pulled a bundle of shiny cloth out of her backpack. “Someone I knew from school is about to drop in to buy this. I owe her one, so I bought it for her in advance. She might freak out if she saw you, so it’d be great if you could not make a scene?”
His eyebrow rose. “I don’t see how that’s a problem. Will your friend be arriving soon?”
Right on cue, everyone in the area began to excitedly point up at the sky. Ethan’s eyes flicked up and widened as someone flew down from above. The costume was missing, spare some metal wrapped around the lower half of her face, but it was unmistakably Meteor who had just landed. Enforcers were already moving towards her, but after a moment’s pause, she entered the boutique. They tried to follow, but it seemed like the door wouldn’t open.
Metal frame, he noted. She’s holding it shut.
He started forward but stopped when the flautist held out her arm to block him. She turned to give him an irate look, huffing out, “She’s not going to hurt anyone.”
“She’s literally robbed this store before.” It had taken a bit to link the robbery by cape a few months ago to her, since she hadn’t been active as ‘Meteor’ at the time, but the skill set and the use of the scarf stolen in the robbery as her mask had made it apparent once they thought to look back into it.
“Not today. And if I’m wrong, then hey, go wild and do your hero thing.”
Ethan hesitated for an instant before taking a step back, hoping he was making the right call. Might as well get a chewing out, while I’m dealing with getting vetted.
Meteor was a complicated bag of worms, putting it lightly. She’d been involved in Canary’s breakout in Providence, where he first encountered her, and then there was that fiasco at Bayside right after. The incident in Philadelphia was still a hot button issue, enough so that Armsmaster had been forced to begrudgingly accept the Philly Protectorate sending up drones to be used during encounters with her, and that was all setting aside the fact she was a potential suspect in the murder investigation of Othala. In fact, she had briefly been the suspect given a metal spear was the murder weapon and her odd behavior leading up to the discovery of the body, but things hadn’t added up. Faultline was a known element, a fixture in the Bay for years, and she absolutely would have disavowed a murderer who killed a cape in cold blood while out of costume. The only reason they had even been able to identify her was the costume crammed into a duffle bag in the trunk and the obvious physical resemblance to the villain, including her missing eye. Between the mercenary group not immediately kicking her to the curb and the Protectorate’s model of her behavior from multiple encounters not suggesting a killer at all, someone from Watchdog had gotten involved and determined she was almost certainly not the killer.
The official mandate was still to bring her in for questioning about both Othala’s murder and what happened in Philadelphia, but if Meteor honestly didn’t engage in criminal activity in front of him and it endeared this new cape into joining the Wards, well, Ethan thought that seemed like a reasonable trade off.
The Enforcers who had been gathered around the door slowly backed away, and Meteor warily stepped out, empty handed. She looked to the sky but stopped when the flautist called out, “Uh, excuse Ms… Cape person? I think I have something you need?”
Flautist stepped out of a crowd of onlookers, her hood pulled up to shroud her face. She had somehow managed to completely disassemble her flute and put it away while he had been carefully watching Meteor, and she held out the scarf she had retrieved from her bag earlier.
I thought she said she knew her? Why isn’t she using her cape name?
“Where did you get that?” Meteor said reverently, her eyes locked on the scarf.
The flautist shrugged. “Don’t you have more important things to worry about right now?”
Meteor wavered, and the girl moved forward, shoving the scarf at her, which prompted the response, “You’re that flute girl!”
“What gave me away?” the other teen deadpanned.
“No, I mean…” Meteor stopped and shook her head. “Thank you.”
“Sure,” the flautist said, already walking away back towards the crowd. She notably wasn’t moving towards Ethan—was that purposeful, to keep Meteor from seeing him? She had implied it would cause trouble. “Go do whatever it is you’re going to do with that thing.”
Meteor had almost taken off when the other girl abruptly called out, “Oh, and have fun playing with dolls.”
The cape only response was shooting off into the sky, and when Ethan looked up, he could just barely make out one other figure floating high up in the air. He brought his gaze back down to the ground to find the flautist before she could wander off, but he needn’t have worried, it seemed, since she was already halfway back over to him.
“Thanks for being chill.”
“I thought you said she was your friend?” he asked, hoping she would take the bait. That entire conversation had definitely been off. Meteor had eventually recognized her, but the flautist hadn’t known the other cape’s name at all. She had not only known the mercenary would be here but that she would want the scarf. Did she have a Thinker power too?
“You said that,” she remarked. “I said I knew her from school.”
He almost asked what school but held his tongue. Just like he had avoided telling Vista about Boudicca’s mother being killed by a bomber, inquiring about the school would be telling, and the unwritten rules made it clear that was a no no. “This has been a far more interesting afternoon than expected, so you definitely have my thanks for that.” He lowered his voice before adding, “I’d really appreciate it if you came to the PRT headquarters downtown with me to talk about some things. It’s not far—I can have a car here to pick us up in five minutes.”
She shook her head. “No can do, sorry,” she said before smirking. “I'm as free as a bird now, and this bird you cannot change.”
“Ooo, that’s dirty, playing to my musical sensibilities like that!” he retorted before soberly and softly remarking, “I think you might not understand how much danger you’re in. We can help protect you.”
Her smirk twisted into a tight lipped smile. “I know full well, actually. I have… protection of a sort.”
“One of the gangs got to you first?”
“Worse.”
“Well that’s not ominous at all,” he said with a grimace. “Can you at least take a card? It’s got a number that’s a direct line for independent capes. You can call us—we can help.”
She hesitated then guardedly said, “I guess a card wouldn’t hurt. But then you need to leave, okay?”
He pulled a card from another pouch at his waist and carefully handed it over. “Take care, okay kid?”
She took the card and shooed him away, so he turned and left at a jog. He was on the roof less than a minute later, and he was sorely tempted to follow her as she left, but if she caught him, it would ruin whatever fragile rapport he had managed to build with her here.
It was time he reported in. “Hey Big Green, can you send a pickup for me? I’ll meet them at the light bridge landing pad.”
“Got it, Assault,” Vista replied over the comms. “ETA is two minutes. And, ah, how did it go?”
“Could have gone better, but it wasn’t a total bust. And hey, I got to hear a wicked flute solo of Stairway to Heaven, so that’s a plus!”
“I… don’t think I’ve heard that before?”
“Kids these days and their tastes in music!” he said, imitating a crotchety old man. “Back in my day, we listened to all the classics while we played jacks by the soda fountain!”
He smiled at her attempts to cover up her laugh with a cough as he covered the short distance to the landing pad. The bridge formed, and he could just barely make out the transport driving onto the other side from where he was.
“Okay, I’m starting a preliminary file for our mystery cape. Did she give you a cape name?”
He considered for a moment. “Technically no, but when I called her a flutist, she made a point of saying she preferred ‘flautist.’ I suppose that fits for now.”
“Ah, gotta look up the spelling for that one… Okay, got it. Taking notes now.”
Nothing more was said as he waited for his ride to arrive, and it wasn’t until a few minutes later when he hopped out onto the solid steel floor of the oil rig that Vista spoke up again. “Assault, please head to conference room 02-04 for screening by Boudicca.”
He narrowly resisted the urge to frown at that as he entered the lobby, throwing the tour group gathering there a jaunty wave before starting towards the stairs up to the second floor. “Boodie’s doing the screening?” he quietly asked. “She’s supposed to be out on bereavement…”
“That’s what I was told, sorry.”
The doorway to the stairwell unlocked when he placed his phone against the RFID scanner, and he quickly bounded up to the second floor with a casual use of his power. “It’s okay. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised with how she’s duking it out with Eminem for most hours worked.”
That wasn’t an exaggeration either. Miss Militia was a ‘Noctis’ cape who didn’t need to sleep, and while Boudicca technically needed to, her regeneration counteracted that need, so she effectively never needed to sleep, so long as she punched someone a lot regularly. He would know, since he was her punching bag more often than not, being a living target who wasn’t bothered by a regular beating.
It wasn’t long before he reached his destination. “At the conference room now. Disconnecting.”
“Got it, Assault. Talk to you later.”
He tapped his ear to separate his earbud from the patrol frequency and slipped inside. Boudicca was already waiting for him, staring down at her phone laying on the table. He couldn’t see her eyes with her helmet and visor in place, but what he could see of her face was blank and devoid of emotion. It wasn’t odd for her to be reserved in expressing herself, but after having worked with her for nearly a month, he knew well enough to not believe for a second she wasn’t feeling anything.
“Assault,” she intoned, her voice kept neutral like her expression. “Mike sierra one two three victor charlie two three two five.”
“Hi, Boodie,” he quietly replied as he took a seat across the table. “Charlie charlie one one four zero seven zero zulu.”
She covered the phone screen with her hand to trigger the lock without using the side button and pushed it aside before giving him her whole attention. Her expression didn’t shift in the slightest. “Where did we first meet?”
“Holding cells at Providence PD’s headquarters.”
“What were we there for?”
“Guarding the convoy bringing Canary and… your sibling to Boston.”
Boudicca snarled and leapt to her feet, her hands slamming against the table. The shift in emotion was so abrupt she had to have just barely been keeping a lid on it. “That monster is no relation of mine!”
Ethan held up his hands and leaned back. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just establishing proof I’m me.”
It was several long seconds before she heavily sat down. She tugged off her helmet and set it aside far more roughly than necessary before fixing him with a baleful glare. “Well, if you’re mastered, then you’re still the same tosser you were before.”
“Sorry,” he said with a wince. “Should’ve thought that one through first.”
“How the bloody hell did you even figure that out?”
“I’m good with names, and theirs stood out because I was shocked the brass in Providence went against protocol and ID’d them.”
“Yeah, well, when the bastard doesn’t wear a costume and changes their appearance and mannerisms so regularly you can set a watch to them, I can’t rightly say I blame them,” she said with a scoff. “Doesn’t explain how you figured out we’re related though.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking back on how he had carefully avoided mentioning to Vista that Boudicca’s mother had died in a bombing. Giving up the wrong detail about one’s private life really could give up the game. “I might’ve looked into the list of ambassadors from Britain and which of them had daughters named Renee. When I saw your last name was Ainsley, I, uh, sort of pieced together why you hate Loki so much.”
She grunted. “Figures. It’s not exactly a secret, mind. Piggot knows. I just don’t exactly advertise it for obvious reasons.”
Being a reformed villain himself, Ethan was all too familiar with the feeling. Piggot and Armsmaster knew about his past as Madcap, and of course Battery knew as his wife, but it wasn’t something everyone on the team knew about. His past wasn’t something he was proud of, and he wouldn’t be happy if it was widely revealed either.
“Again, I’m sorry. Your secret is safe with me.”
Whatever Boudicca had been about to say was cut off by Vista’s voice appearing in his ear. He had signed out of the patrol channel earlier, which meant this was an emergency broadcast. “Everyone, we’ve got reports of a fight breaking out between the ABB and E88 at the old Checker Sugar factory at the corner of Chester and Duncan in the Trainyard. Confirmed sightings of Lung, Oni Lee, Hookwolf, Stormtiger, and Cricket fighting outside as well as a possible sighting of Meteor.”
Meteor?
“This is Armsmaster, Console. I have an ETA of 5 minutes to the location. Backup requested.”
“Dauntless and Velocity are tied up on the south end of the city with a separate altercation between the E88 and the Merchants with Mush involved, and Miss Militia left base a bit ago and is nearly there to assist. I can get Assault on a transport from base that will pick up Battery en route.”
“Copy that,” Battery chimed in. “Battery standing by for pickup.”
“This is Assault,” Ethan said, tapping his ear to speak and speaking with an uncharacteristic seriousness as he hastily left the conference room and retraced his steps down to the lobby. “I had eyes on Meteor during my conversation with Flautist on the Boardwalk. Do we have a description on the possible Meteor sighting, Console?”
“Standby,” Vista responded, the line going silent. He heard the sound of someone running behind him, and looking over his shoulder, he saw Boudicca had pulled her helmet back on and was sprinting to keep pace with him.
Surely she’s not planning to come after what had happened to her mother? “What are you doing?”
“This is Boudicca,” she said, her hand moving to her ear. “I’ll be joining Assault and Battery as backup.”
He frowned, wanting to argue she shouldn’t come, but it wasn’t his place to try and argue she should stay. “Want me to speed you up?”
“It’d be a help, yeah.”
He slowed his pace until she was beside him then lightly jabbed her several times in her upper arm. As the two of them raced down the hall at a more evenly matched speed, Vista spoke back up. “Transcript of the call says the caller reported a young girl in a blue dress, some sort of pink hat, and a silver scarf who had bands around her arms and legs and was flying. Operator flagged the similarity to Meteor.”
Well shit. “That’s her, I can confirm,” he reported as the two of them raced through the lobby. A PRT van was waiting for them outside, and the moment they were in, it took off down the already connected light bridge.
Boudicca’s lip curled. “Shoulda known that bint was involved with Bakuda,” she spat out. “It’s gonna be a real pleasure bringing her in.”
Ethan wanted to argue the kid in over her head he had met in Providence wouldn’t murder Othala—wouldn’t join a group of thugs like the ABB—but it was getting awfully hard to take that stance.