It started at 4:48:06 on a random Tuesday afternoon. The man in charge of the security cameras was distracted by a crossword that had taken him most of the day to complete. No matter what he tried to place in the boxes of twenty-two down, he still couldn’t figure out what it meant by “Terrorizes our streets.”
That’s not to say there weren’t plenty of people terrorizing the streets. Some random Syndra goons here and there, the Blood Moon Pirate, and, of course, Bijabers and his crew were all guilty of that in some way. Secretly, though, he was glad that the Blood Moon Pirate was around. She was doing the things that nobody in S6 was willing to do.
So, when she entered the building at 4:48:06 while he was tapping away at the newspaper with a pencil, he might not have given it a second thought. That is, if he hadn’t worked at S6 himself.
What inevitably drew his attention back to the screens was a gathering of agents in the large meeting room. More specifically, a confined group of the highest-ranking agents in Carmsborough. A meeting this late on a random Tuesday usually meant something big was happening. He flipped the volume on for monitor 3B, an action he really wasn’t supposed to do, and stared intently at the screen.
“Thank you all for meeting on such short notice,” Agent Josh said, seemingly heading the get-together. “I’ll do my best to keep this brief, but know that the topic of today’s meeting is very serious.”
The security guard’s eyes drifted from monitor 3B, the meeting room monitor, to that of 3A, the hallway right outside of it, where the Blood Moon Pirate appeared at the farthest end. His eyes widened, and the pencil in his hands fell unceremoniously to the table.
She seemed to check the length of the hall before deciding she was free to move down it, running awkwardly towards the camera. If the group of agents in 3B heard the footsteps, they didn’t give an indication.
The security guard’s hand was over the alarm button for an uncomfortably tense moment. Someone had broken into S6—the Blood Moon Pirate, no less—and was about to run by the room with some of the most important people here. But, at the same time, she had never gone for anyone other than those in Bijabers’ circle. What was she doing here?
“As you’ve surely been made aware of by now,” Agent Josh continued, “we have a mole amongst our ranks.” The guard’s hand relaxed as she passed the meeting room and continued to the end of the hallway. “Agent Ike has had suspicions for over a year now that one of our men here has been working with Bijabers as a double agent. He hasn’t disclosed his source on that information, per usual, but he has assured us that this is very real.”
As the Blood Moon Pirate left view of camera 3A and entered view of camera 2D in a second hallway, the man himself, Agent Ike, appeared at the far end of 3A and stepped into the meeting room. The room fell silent, or at least seemed to, seeing as the camera didn’t pick up any noise other than the usual hum of static.
She wasn’t after him, was she? The one day Agent Ike shows up in the Carmsborough headquarters, so does she? It made since if she was after him, but it didn’t match her MO. And it’s not like Ike was the mole for Bijabers. That would be the most insane twist—
Duh. She’s here for the mole.
If anyone outside of the S6 organization would know not only that there was a mole, but also who that mole was, it was her. She’d gotten leads on people S6 could only dream of: Marrow, Smackpants, and probably more.
“Gentlemen,” Agent Ike said, “I’ve determined that none of you are the mole. Therefore, your role in this is critical. By the end of the week, we need to have the mole arrested, extradited to the United States, and have enough evidence to have him tried for as many crimes as possible.”
“Who’s the mole, sir?” one of the agents asked.
The Blood Moon Pirate arrived on camera 6A, the first camera of the second floor, where many of the agent offices were. She was clearly after someone specific, as she quietly peeked into multiple different rooms.
“Our good friend Patrick Manchester,” Ike answered.
“P-Man?” another agent gasped.
“On Thursday, we know that P-Man will be meeting with one of Bijabers’ remaining leaders, Hazmonaught. After the Blood Moon Pirate’s slaughtering of the rest of his crew, Hazmonaught has moved up to be his second-in-command here in Carmsborough. More than likely, they will be discussing our secrets, as well as who is next to take the newly opened roles. This will also mean that Bijabers is looking for new blood to fill the ranks. We will have both P-Man and Hazmonaught arrested.”
The Blood Moon Pirate stopped at office 126 and looked inside. P-Man’s office. Should the guard do something? Was it too late to act? What’s the better option here? He gets his justice either way, but is it worth losing the chance to get Hazmonaught, too?
It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take, especially if it meant his own job on the line. He could make up an excuse for the Blood Moon Pirate getting this far, but he couldn’t make up an excuse for a death in the building.
“The Blood Moon Pirate has been spotted in the offices. Alert, the Blood Moon Pirate is in the offices.”
He hesitantly pressed the alarm button, and watched as both floors and twenty-seven cameras went into panic mode. The Blood Moon Pirate looked around, before her eyes landed on the camera. A moment later, the feed from 6J was terminated, a black and white screen replacing the office space.
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This was going to make his job a lot harder.
The men in the meeting room immediately withdrew their pistols.
“Funny that she shows up the same day you’re here, Ike,” one of the agents said.
“If you’re implying she’s after me, Cornell, I think you’ve misread her file. I can almost guarantee she’s after P-Man.”
“With all due respect, I’m implying she came here with you, sir.”
“Then you’ve really read her file wrong. Initiate lockdown protocols.”
Then, Ike retrieved a radio from his belt, and the security guards’ own radio buzzed to life. “Status update.”
“Uh, well, she cut my feed to 6J,” the guard said, “but I still have most of the office room left.”
“She’s smart. She’ll have most of your cameras down before you know it. Follow the trail of dying cameras, and keep me updated.”
“Yes, sir.”
P-Man appeared on 6L, running through a hall of offices towards a second set of stairs. The Blood Moon Pirate appeared briefly after, seemingly limping, before taking the camera out. Two of twenty-seven cameras were now completely inoperable, but at least he had a direction.
“Sir,” the guard said back into the radio, “she seems to be after P-Man for whatever reason. They’re headed to the first floor, 5E, and she appears to be hurt.”
“Damnit,” Ike responded in the meeting room, before also switching back to microphone. “Do not tell anyone who she is after. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What room is 5E?”
“Uh, lower break room.”
“She’s after him, isn’t she?” one of the agents asked.
“Yes,” Ike replied. “This is going to throw everything off. Whether or not she gets to him, this will mean we won’t get Hazmonaught, and we won’t know Bijabers’ plans.”
“What now?”
“We have to stop her, and we have to immediately arrest him. He’ll know we’re suspicious when he’s rescued.”
“What are we going to tell the press?”
“The world will never know about this. They weren’t going to know about the mole in the first place.”
The men, all armed with pistols, filed out of the room and started the hunt for the two rogues, going from 3A to 3C to 4F. P-Man and the Blood Moon Pirate, however, appeared at 5A, where P-Man toppled a filing cabinet over on top of her and disappeared through one of three doors. The Blood Moon Pirate hadn’t seen which, but the guard knew it was 1L.
Rogue? He glanced briefly at the crossword on his desk. Rogue was only five letters, but the one he was looking for had nine. Still, it fit pretty well. Maybe there was a typo. It wouldn’t have been the first time they printed it wrong.
By the time the Blood Moon Pirate had pushed the cabinet off of her, the group of the top brass was just two cameras away from her. If she picked the wrong door, she would be doomed.
Without sound, he wasn’t sure what alarmed her, but somehow she knew the door on her right was trouble and went through the one in the middle. She entered into another long hallway, and shot the camera as soon as she saw it. The guard knew there was another split up ahead, but neither direction would get her closer to P-Man, who was in 1D now. He was very close to escaping through the public entrance.
“P-Man is in the accounting office,” the guard said on his radio to Ike.
The agent stopped in 5D and picked up his own radio. “I thought you said 5E?”
“They’ve moved. P-Man lost her, and they split up. He’s in 1D now, and she’s in 2C—no, 2B now.”
“2B? Isn’t that right outside of your room?”
A heavy kick forced the security room’s door in, and there stood the Blood Moon Pirate, pistol aimed at him.
“He’s hiding in the accounting office,” the guard said.
“What?” she asked.
“P-Man. He’s in the accounting office.”
“Where’s that?”
“Down this hall, take two lefts and down the checkered hallway. It’s got a big sign.”
“Hey, guard. Wasn’t 2B your room? Status update?”
“Is that Ike?” she asked.
“Uh, umm…”
She ripped the radio from his hand. “Hey, Ike, long time no see.”
“Lu—The Blood Moon Pirate?”
“In the flesh. Well, radio.”
“Listen, kiddo. You have no idea what you’ve just interrupted.”
“I thought I made it clear not to call me that anymore.”
“P-Man was going to lead us to another big name. You’ve just ruined justice for two people on your selfish tirade against Bijabers.”
“Hazmonaught? Don’t worry about him, Ike. I have a plan for him coming soon.”
“You can’t keep doing this!”
“Hey, gotta go! Good chat!”
The Blood Moon Pirate tossed the radio back at the guard and hobbled out the door. A small pool of blood laid in her absence, from one of the probably multiple places she was injured.
The guard was shaking intensely. This was the closest he had come to this sort of action. To death. To a vigilante.
Vigilante.
Despite the adrenaline pounding in his ears, he glanced at the crossword puzzle. Twenty-two down: “a person who believes they are doing good, but only terrorizes our streets.” A vigilante. He filled in the nine-letter word, a process which distracted him from the gunshot that rang through the building behind him.
Were they really terrorizing the streets? On one hand, she was doing good. It was her method he had a problem with. Did one’s method invalidate the good that they were doing? A deeply philosophical question for a random Tuesday at 4:54:23 in the afternoon, and certainly one that didn’t have a crossword answer.
\-----_____-----/
Luna delicately stepped into the sandwich restaurant that evening, layered up in some warm September clothing. One leg had more of a spring in it than the other, seeing as a hastily sewn bullet wound wasn’t great to apply pressure to. She scanned the tables to find Alondra at one of them, waiting in a corner.
“How’d the soup kitchen go?” Luna asked, taking the seat in the booth across from her.
“Pretty uneventful, per usual,” Alondra replied, with a sigh. “A long day, but a good day.”
“That’s always nice.”
Their waiter approached, offering to get their drinks. Both ordered a water and sent the waiter on his way.
Alondra flipped absentmindedly through the menu in front of them. “What’d you do today?”
“Went on a surprise visit to a client,” Luna said, winking.
Alondra’s eyebrows rose, slightly intrigued and surprised. “The agent one? I thought you weren’t doing that for another week. And I thought I was going with.”
“Sorry, you were out, but a great opportunity showed up today and I couldn’t pass it up. I didn’t even take Freckles with me.”
“Opportunity?”
“Oh, I had a guy on the inside contact me. A mole, if you will.”
“Well, that’s great. Who’s next on your list of ‘clients’ to take care of?”
“I hear a certain special man is on his way back from Italy to go to a funeral.”
“Oh?”
\-----_____-----/
“Hey, sir,” Ike said into his hotel phone. “This is an unsecure line, but I assume I know what you’re calling about.”
“I’m getting tired of asking how this sort of thing happens, Ike,” the president said.
“I assure you, I’ve got my best men on the case as we speak,” he said, stirring some wine in a hotel glass. Next to the phone on the table was a note that said “IOU1” with a phone number on it. He smiled.