Interlude: The Inspector's Report
- Location
- Pennsylvania
Las Vegas has always attracted a variety of eccentric and extreme personalities, but one particularly eventful night was all it took to set off a volatile powder keg of criminal activity across the state of Nevada. The National Guard had been activated in various cities to respond to the spikes in super crime caused by the St. Canard breakout and a string of copycat takeovers started in the wake of the mechanical Sinatron's violent declaration of "Free Vegas" sovereignty.
The intended event, by itself, didn't make a blip on Penelope's radar. She had a practical interest in engineering and technology, but the veteran detective was far too busy with the cases she received from INTERPOL to take a break and see the gala. That was before her superiors cleared every other case off her desk and insisted she make a visit to determine what the American agencies were having trouble with: What went wrong, and why?
Now that it was spiralling in the directions it was, she regretted not looking into the people involved with the gala sooner. The signs were all present that something would go wrong, if you knew what to look for. There are always signs, even if nobody found them at the time.
"This is Las Vegas?" one of the robots in the backseat of her police car asked in a nasally tone. He was a squat humanoid encased in an orange shell shaped like a bell crossed with a trenchcoat. The robot had an orange fedora and boots to match his shiny peach complexion. "We really picked the best place to take a vacation!"
"This isn't a vacation, Fidget." The identical, but blue robot next to him replied, shaking his head. "We're robots, we don't take vacations."
"Oh. Good catch, Digit!"
Fidget stared at the pretty lights as the blonde woman driving took the long way around another traffic jam. Several roads were rendered inaccessible or impossible to drive over due to property damage caused by the sudden storm of super attacks on Vegas.
Mass, formerly a professional wrestler with the legal name of Vincenzo Rossi, was the greatest perpetrator. He was huge, strong, and leaked corrosive substances when injured. He spread waste where he walked, but seemed ignorant to health effects since his transformation.
"You really picked a great place to go on a vacation, Penelope!"
Inspector Penelope groaned. She pressed a button on the car's dashboard, maximizing the suspension on the wheels so she could drive over and around the vehicles blocking her.
"This isn't a vacation for me either, Fidget. We're on a case. Digit, have you found anything new from the livestream footage?"
Digit presses keys on Penelope's digital booklet with his big mechanical fingers. Several images flash on the screen at a rapid pace as Digit skims through them.
"Nothing new. There's a lot of wanted criminals and wealthy people that would want to take Syndrome down a peg, but they all look as guilty as each other."
The Inspector drove the car as close as she could to the once refurbished, now fortified Sands Casino. Sinatra's doppelganger made quick work of turning around the damage he caused and making the resort a castle he could protect from invaders. The police were expecting it to turn into a siege as "Sinatron" bought time to negotiate or further shore up his defenses.
Syndrome being his hostage made him a bargaining chip worth a lot of coin. Regardless of the money he was willing to throw around before, Sinatron had to cash that chip in sooner rather than later if he was going to avoid his house of cards falling to pieces.
Fidget extended his neck over to where Digit was working on the computer book. "You gotta admit, this Sinatra guy has style! I don't even know where he was hiding that machine gun!"
Penelope hit the brakes, shaking her twin robots out of their seats in surprise. Fidget's neck flies over the passenger seat, leaving his body behind as it got caught in the glove compartment.
"Was it something I said?"
She nods. "Digit, hand me my computer book." The blue robot passes it to her from the back seat. Penelope skips between timestamps until she reaches the scene in question. Sinatron was pleasantries and niceties in one moment, but armed and dangerous in the next.
"The gun was in his body!" Inspector Penelope declares. Pausing the video and staring at the scene intently, she watches miniscule movements in his suit give away the location of his concealed weapon "Sinatron was an android doppelganger with compartmentalized equipment. That sort of technology is restricted because of how dangerous it is in the wrong hands."
Fidget's hand becomes a crank. "That means we can arrest him, right?"
Digit reeled his counterpart's head back into place with his collar. "We already need to arrest him. The question is whether we can arrest Syndrome for making a robot like that."
Penelope considered it, but shook her head. She then parked the car and exited it with her two robot assistants in tow. The inspector flashed her badge and was allowed to walk past the police barricades as she continued her conversation with them. Her own hat and trench coat protected her from the Winter wind chill, as well as the odd plume of dust from debris.
"I don't think so. Syndrome's a slippery businessman, and he had to have covered all of his bases except for his own robot betraying him. But the technology Syndrome used was unmistakably taken from the Gadget Program!"
"The Gadget Program?" the twin Gadgetinis said in unison.
The trio had stopped within eyesight of the Sands Casino, where Sinatron was holed up and still accepting gambling patrons. Trying to sneak in would be a risky proposition, but it wasn't completely out of the question. Especially if it meant getting answers.
"That's right. The same technology that I used to make you two. Used to make… I'm getting off topic. Someone, somewhere, let the secrets of the technology slip, allowing Syndrome to abuse them for his own ends."
"Wooow." There was a pause. "I didn't know we were related to Frank Sinatra!"
"We aren't, Fidget. We're second cousins to his android double. No relation to the real thing!"
Inspector Penelope double-checked the contents of her forensic kit and loaded her service weapon. There was a high chance Sinatron's villains were still on his payroll. She didn't stand a chance against any of them in a straight fight, so she had to play this smart.
"Come on, you two. We're going to ask the next people who come out of there some questions."
"Do you think they'll give us what we need to take them down?" asked Fidget.
"I don't know," Penelope responded sincerely.
She had a feeling this was all meant to play lip service to INTERPOL trying to solve the case or deal with the issue on behalf of America, but that she'll be recalled to continue her other cases before any progress can be made on this one. Leaving it to the FBI or CIA to clean up.
Inspector Penelope hated to see a case go cold. This one felt like it would get personal, which made her all the more resolved to see it through.
"But if we don't get the bad guys here, then we'll get them next time. Next time…"
The intended event, by itself, didn't make a blip on Penelope's radar. She had a practical interest in engineering and technology, but the veteran detective was far too busy with the cases she received from INTERPOL to take a break and see the gala. That was before her superiors cleared every other case off her desk and insisted she make a visit to determine what the American agencies were having trouble with: What went wrong, and why?
Now that it was spiralling in the directions it was, she regretted not looking into the people involved with the gala sooner. The signs were all present that something would go wrong, if you knew what to look for. There are always signs, even if nobody found them at the time.
"This is Las Vegas?" one of the robots in the backseat of her police car asked in a nasally tone. He was a squat humanoid encased in an orange shell shaped like a bell crossed with a trenchcoat. The robot had an orange fedora and boots to match his shiny peach complexion. "We really picked the best place to take a vacation!"
"This isn't a vacation, Fidget." The identical, but blue robot next to him replied, shaking his head. "We're robots, we don't take vacations."
"Oh. Good catch, Digit!"
Fidget stared at the pretty lights as the blonde woman driving took the long way around another traffic jam. Several roads were rendered inaccessible or impossible to drive over due to property damage caused by the sudden storm of super attacks on Vegas.
Mass, formerly a professional wrestler with the legal name of Vincenzo Rossi, was the greatest perpetrator. He was huge, strong, and leaked corrosive substances when injured. He spread waste where he walked, but seemed ignorant to health effects since his transformation.
"You really picked a great place to go on a vacation, Penelope!"
Inspector Penelope groaned. She pressed a button on the car's dashboard, maximizing the suspension on the wheels so she could drive over and around the vehicles blocking her.
"This isn't a vacation for me either, Fidget. We're on a case. Digit, have you found anything new from the livestream footage?"
Digit presses keys on Penelope's digital booklet with his big mechanical fingers. Several images flash on the screen at a rapid pace as Digit skims through them.
"Nothing new. There's a lot of wanted criminals and wealthy people that would want to take Syndrome down a peg, but they all look as guilty as each other."
The Inspector drove the car as close as she could to the once refurbished, now fortified Sands Casino. Sinatra's doppelganger made quick work of turning around the damage he caused and making the resort a castle he could protect from invaders. The police were expecting it to turn into a siege as "Sinatron" bought time to negotiate or further shore up his defenses.
Syndrome being his hostage made him a bargaining chip worth a lot of coin. Regardless of the money he was willing to throw around before, Sinatron had to cash that chip in sooner rather than later if he was going to avoid his house of cards falling to pieces.
Fidget extended his neck over to where Digit was working on the computer book. "You gotta admit, this Sinatra guy has style! I don't even know where he was hiding that machine gun!"
Penelope hit the brakes, shaking her twin robots out of their seats in surprise. Fidget's neck flies over the passenger seat, leaving his body behind as it got caught in the glove compartment.
"Was it something I said?"
She nods. "Digit, hand me my computer book." The blue robot passes it to her from the back seat. Penelope skips between timestamps until she reaches the scene in question. Sinatron was pleasantries and niceties in one moment, but armed and dangerous in the next.
"The gun was in his body!" Inspector Penelope declares. Pausing the video and staring at the scene intently, she watches miniscule movements in his suit give away the location of his concealed weapon "Sinatron was an android doppelganger with compartmentalized equipment. That sort of technology is restricted because of how dangerous it is in the wrong hands."
Fidget's hand becomes a crank. "That means we can arrest him, right?"
Digit reeled his counterpart's head back into place with his collar. "We already need to arrest him. The question is whether we can arrest Syndrome for making a robot like that."
Penelope considered it, but shook her head. She then parked the car and exited it with her two robot assistants in tow. The inspector flashed her badge and was allowed to walk past the police barricades as she continued her conversation with them. Her own hat and trench coat protected her from the Winter wind chill, as well as the odd plume of dust from debris.
"I don't think so. Syndrome's a slippery businessman, and he had to have covered all of his bases except for his own robot betraying him. But the technology Syndrome used was unmistakably taken from the Gadget Program!"
"The Gadget Program?" the twin Gadgetinis said in unison.
The trio had stopped within eyesight of the Sands Casino, where Sinatron was holed up and still accepting gambling patrons. Trying to sneak in would be a risky proposition, but it wasn't completely out of the question. Especially if it meant getting answers.
"That's right. The same technology that I used to make you two. Used to make… I'm getting off topic. Someone, somewhere, let the secrets of the technology slip, allowing Syndrome to abuse them for his own ends."
"Wooow." There was a pause. "I didn't know we were related to Frank Sinatra!"
"We aren't, Fidget. We're second cousins to his android double. No relation to the real thing!"
Inspector Penelope double-checked the contents of her forensic kit and loaded her service weapon. There was a high chance Sinatron's villains were still on his payroll. She didn't stand a chance against any of them in a straight fight, so she had to play this smart.
"Come on, you two. We're going to ask the next people who come out of there some questions."
"Do you think they'll give us what we need to take them down?" asked Fidget.
"I don't know," Penelope responded sincerely.
She had a feeling this was all meant to play lip service to INTERPOL trying to solve the case or deal with the issue on behalf of America, but that she'll be recalled to continue her other cases before any progress can be made on this one. Leaving it to the FBI or CIA to clean up.
Inspector Penelope hated to see a case go cold. This one felt like it would get personal, which made her all the more resolved to see it through.
"But if we don't get the bad guys here, then we'll get them next time. Next time…"
Last edited:
