"But you're gonna hit back, right?" Dan asked.

"We're gonna hit back," Cornelius agreed.

The room was quiet after that pronouncement, before Cornelius unsubtly changed the subject.

"Dunkirk called Captain Gable today," he remarked casually. "He asked the good captain what he knew about one Daniel Newman."

"The fuck is this guy's problem?" Dan complained loudly. "I'm pretty sure I saved his ass, and in return he's crawled up mine!"

"Maybe its his way of showing gratitude?" Cornelius postulated. Connor snorted into his drink, spraying himself with coffee.

"Regardless, your FBI file is apparently restricted in some way." That wasn't surprising, given who had created it. Cornelius must have thought the same, giving a knowing look to Abby. It had actually been Anastasia, but the older officer didn't need to know that. He continued his explanation, "He wasn't able to access it with his clearance level. Given that you did that courier job for us, he tried to pump Gable for information."

"I've never met Captain Gable," Dan replied neutrally, "and that job was supposed to be for your brother."

Connor started at that, but Cornelius quickly admitted, "Yes, well that was a lie. Obviously."

"Uncle!" Connor exclaimed indignantly. "You can't just throw around father's name to get your way!"

"My brother knew, of course," Cornelius soothed him, "but we needed to pass a message along, and the word of a Congressman trumps that of a precinct captain. Dunkirk is notoriously ambitious, and never passes up an opportunity to kiss the ass of someone higher up on the social ladder."

"Shocking," Dan stated blandly. "Am I allowed to know what that message I delivered was about?"

Cornelius cocked his head as he considered it. "I suppose I can tell you now. It doesn't matter after this mess, and you're involved enough to deserve a warning. I've already spoken to Connor and Officer Pierre-Louise"

"A warning?" Dan repeated, now slightly worried.

Cornelius leaned back into the couch, making himself comfortable.

"So..." he began in the voice of a practiced storyteller. "A few months back, I brought in the notorious terrorist Andros Bartholomew." He paused, then added, "That's the fella who'd kidnapped Connor and Gregoir."

Dan already knew this, given that he'd incapacitated the villain before handing him off to Cornelius. The mad scientist had attempted to capture Dan, and had bitten off far more than he could chew. Apparently, Cornelius had kept Dan's involvement secret, even from family.

"Ever since then," Cornelius continued, "he's been held at the FBI office on Bering."

Dan's eyes widened.

"Yeah. That one." Cornelius sighed, scratching at his scalp. "Dunkirk had hoped to pump him for information, but his... well we're not entirely sure if he's a Natural or a Mutate, but his abilities make him very difficult to interrogate. He's just been sort of sitting there, twiddling his thumbs, for the past few months."

You kept him here?" Abby's voice was quiet, but something dangerous lurked in the shadow of her tone.

Cornelius eyed her with some caution. "I didn't, no. I made the hand off to the FBI, as per protocol, and Dunkirk made the decision to keep him in the city. Naturally, we were worried about their ability to hold him, but the APD were told in no uncertain terms that the FBI cells were sufficient."

Dan snorted.

"Yeah," Cornelius agreed with the unspoken comment. "The feds have got some egg on their faces after this. Dunkirk's reputation has taken a huge hit, and he's looking for someone to blame."

There was a pause.

"And he's been asking questions about me?" Dan repeated slowly.

"Yeaaaahh..." Cornelius trailed off. "I don't think there's much he can do at the moment. His pull isn't what it was after this disaster. We're all expecting him to be demoted or replaced. It's just a matter of time now, so he's grasping for any lifeline he can find. You stirred up some things with your, ah, interference."

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Dan waited for some kind of condemnation to come from the cops present in the room, but found none forthcoming. Cornelius' face was a blank slate, completely expressionless, while Connor and Freya simply looked uncomfortable.

Dan found that his friends'... not support so much as a lack of censure, took a load off his shoulders.

"I'm not worried about Dunkirk," Dan said eventually, and he found, with some surprise, that it wasn't a lie. Worry was not the feeling the news had evoked. It was something else, something between black rage and disappointment. He'd known Dunkirk was petty, but he'd hoped that the man could at least direct his ire towards a deserving target. Presumably, he'd assumed Dan was just a no-name volunteer with a few connections to the APD. If he continued this nonsense, he'd find a much more difficult target than expected.

Dan's identity was protected by Anastasia Summers, who had proven time and again that she was far more powerful than some random FBI mook. While there might be a thousand small ways that Dunkirk could inconvenience him, Dan doubted the man would be around long enough for that. Not after the disaster he'd made of his posting. It would take a monumental distraction for the feds to overlook that kind of incompetence.

"I'm more worried about this Bartholomew guy," Dan continued. Especially since he knew Dan's name, and probably had a bit of a grudge over the whole... maiming incident. "He was the prisoner that escaped, then? For sure?"

"I'm afraid so," Cornelius acknowledged.

Connor looked grim, but Freya looked like something else entirely. In her eyes smoldered the fury of a thousand suns, all searching for a suitable target. Dan had no doubt in his mind, if she were to come across Andros Bartholomew, only one of them would be leaving the encounter alive.

"You expecting him to flee the city?" Dan asked hopefully

"That's almost impossible at this point. We've got things pretty well locked down. State troopers and the country sheriff's office are checking everyone coming and going. Barring another teleporter of your caliber, of which there are basically none, there won't be any suspicious characters entering or exiting the city any time soon."

"I don't know if that should comfort me or not," Dan said. He glanced to Connor. "What's your take on all this?"

The younger man grimaced. "I'm uncomfortable with the thought that such a man might be out on the streets, but I'm grateful that he is unlikely to remain free for long. Whatever unhinged plans he might concoct are at least limited to the city limits. And I'm certain we will find him given time."

"Absolutely," Cornelius agreed, "but it might be a while. There's a lot of ground to cover, a lot of holes to dig through, and we have bigger things on our plate. Honestly, command is kind of hoping the feds will take over the manhunt. We're just waiting on word back from them right now."

"Then you'll be focusing on Coldeyes' Crew?" Dan asked.

"Have to," Cornelius said. "The damage they caused? The lives they took, and the people we lost? The department can't allow that to stand. Our reputation is shaky as it is, and our numbers are lower than they've ever been. And that's not even getting into budget issues."

"I don't get it," Dan exclaimed. Why are y'all having so many problems? Did someone add a few zeroes on a supply order or something? The police are widely seen as a good thing. Shouldn't you be overflowing in bodies and money?"

Cornelius sighed. "There's a lot of complicated political maneuvering going on in the background, that most citizens aren't aware of. The law affords us an enormous amount of authority and leeway. It makes people uncomfortable. Especially the folks who make our budget." He laughed. "There's a saying in the department: a large police force makes for nervous politicians. They worry that we'll abuse our authority or usurp their own."

"They should be thankful we don't," Freya growled under her breath.

"No, no, the fear is completely understandable," Cornelius countered. "Power corrupts and all that. And command agrees, for the most part, but it's a hard problem to solve. Naturally, the leadership doesn't want officers willing to abuse their authority, so our standards become more exacting. Quality over quantity, if you will. This leads to a smaller recruitment pool, which leads to less officers overall, which leads to a greater justification to shrink our budget, which means we must once against narrow our standards and so on and so forth. It's a horrible recursive loop."

"Is this normal?" Dan asked incredulously. Austin was a massive, thriving city. It seemed bizarre to him that the police department would be underfunded in any way.

Cornelius shrugged. "What is normal? It's a big country, Daniel, and I've only ever worked in Texas. I'm sure some places have leaders who are comfortable with more officers, but this isn't one of them."

"Even after this attack?" Dan pressed. "You'd think they'd want more bodies in light of recent events."

"It's certainly being discussed," Cornelius said. "Maybe something good will come out of this mess, but I doubt it. The talks so far have been focused on coordinating with outside resources and third-party contractors."

"Third-party contractors?" Connor repeated incredulously. Apparently he hadn't been privy to this information. "You mean mercenaries?"

Private security firms can be held on retainer to secure certain locations or hold prisoners," Cornelius said. "It's been done in the past, though we obviously find it distasteful."

"They can't be trusted," Freya insisted, immediately agreeing with Connor. "If they were worth a damn, they'd be one of us, or in the military."

"You can't hire the military," Cornelius replied. He thought for a moment. "Well, we can't at least. I suppose there's always the National Guard if things go really south... but I don't think it will come to that."

"Fuck me, I hope not," Dan said.

Cornelis spread his arms helplessly. "We're focusing on the ground right now. Beyond that, well, it's in the hands of the politicians."

"Yeah," Abby muttered. "But is that a comfort or a warning?"