I'm not 100% sure the timeline shakes out correctly, but I'm reasonably confident there's wiggle room.
4.d
Dinah
One hour before the Simurgh's arrival
"Mom."
Mrs. Alcott is in the middle of baking blueberry muffins -Dinah's favorite- when her daughter speaks up, standing just inside the kitchen. She has a disturbingly serious manner, but her mother does her best to ignore that, smiling brightly and saying "Yes, honey? Do you need something?"
Dinah doesn't answer the question, instead saying "You need to listen, mom. A man is going to knock at the door in two minutes, asking to see me." Dinah's mother starts to say something, but Dinah talks right over her, something she has never done to anyone, let alone her own mother. She sounds rehearsed, and Mrs. Alcott finds herself disturbed.
"He will introduce himself as Thomas Calvert, on official business." A brief, deliberate pause. "This is a lie. He is a
bad man-" Dinah is shaking a little, and stumbles a moment over her words, but resolutely continues talking, ignoring her mother's face dropping. "-who will do and say whatever he thinks will get him in here." She pauses again, looking down, then looks her mother directly in the eye. "You'll need the gun in the sofa."
Mrs. Alcott flinches at that. She already knew about the pistol -a completely justified piece of paranoia, given Brockton Bay- but she'd been sure her daughter had never found it, for all that she'd nagged her husband to move it someplace less at risk of being found by their daughter or a playmate. He'd refused to change its location, insisting the entire point was that it be readily accessible in an emergency. That their daughter or one of their daughter's friends might find it and hurt or kill herself by accident was insufficient to move him... and, well.
Brockton Bay.
Dinah scampers off before Mrs. Alcott can get her equilibrium back. Reflexively, she follows her daughter into the living room, but Dinah is nowhere to be seen -or heard. In the moment it takes for her to decide whether to check upstairs or in the garage, she's struck off-balance again by the doorbell ringing. Almost immediately someone is knocking, calling out "Mrs. Alcott?"
A knot settles like lead in her stomach.
She calls out "One minute!" while making her way to the door... with a brief stop to retrieve the pistol. She doesn't believe Dinah. She
doesn't. She's just... on edge. Her daughter was kidnapped. A mother has a right to worry, even if it's irrational. Obviously.
She covers the sound of cocking the gun by calling out "Almost there, almost there." in her best hostess voice, still approaching the door. When she reaches the door, she keeps the security chain in, opening the door only partway and holding the gun behind the door in her left hand. Smiling brightly, she says "Can I help you?" in her warmest and most welcoming voice.
The man in front of her is nondescript. A bit pale, a bit thin, and for some reason wearing an overly large, out of place hat, but nothing about his appearance or demeanor suggests danger. He's not wearing a uniform, instead dressed in black pants and a simple white shirt, somewhere between casualwear and formalwear. He tips his hat at her, the motion obviously unpracticed -this isn't a man who wears a hat normally- and says "Hello Mrs. Alcott, I'm with the Parahuman Response Team-" he flashes an official-looking badge at her and continues "-here to follow up on Dinah's kidnapping, as it's our understanding that she was taken by a parahuman criminal, one... Coil?" Something about his hesitance over the name
Coil feels off, almost theatrical. Mrs. Alcott tells herself she's imagining it, that the unfamiliarity is for some other reason.
She's never heard of a parahuman called "Coil". Maybe he's just new.
She keeps the gun ready.
The man continues, apparently unruffled by her reserved attitude past her initial greeting. "I'm Thomas Calvert-"
what? Nononono "- and I was assigned-" his eyes drift a little, and she feels herself thinking of one of her poker friends' tells, when they're hiding something "-to make sure Dinah is well and, in particular, is not under any lingering parahuman influence." He makes an apologetic motion with one hand. "I understand if you don't want me to take her in for a full battery of tests, but I would be remiss in my duty if I didn't at least see the girl myself."
Mrs. Alcott's eyes drift to the car in the driveway. She notes that it's not a PRT vehicle. It's a nice car, she couldn't name the model, but not something a PRT grunt could realistically afford. So... either he's higher ranking than that, or he's flat-out lying. She pastes an expression of contrition on and apologizes. "I'm sorry, but Dinah is still recovering from the experience. I don't know when she'll be ready to see strangers. She's asleep right now, and I would hate to wake her after what she's been through, Mr. Calvert."
Calvert's expression doesn't change any, and he says "Oh, I understand completely, but this really is quite important. Parahuman powers can be subtle, and dangerous. You'll need an expert-"
She interrupts, still doing her best to look apologetic. "I'll call the PRT or New Wave the moment she's awake, I assure you, but she needs her bedrest. In fact, I can't spare too much time for this, I really should get back to taking care of her, so unless there's another matter, Mr. Calvert?..."
For the briefest of moments, so brief she would've missed it if she had blinked at the wrong moment, Calvert's expression twists into a rictus of fury and hatred. It instantly smooths out and he simply says "That's... unfortunate, Mrs. Alcott. You are making a mistake, though I quite understand your reasons. Are you sure you won't reconsider?"
She shakes her head, and leaves that as her answer. Mr. Calvert waits five, ten seconds, and then turns and leaves, shaking his head slowly, as if feeling sorry for Dinah. She closes the door and locks it, then watches through the peephole. It takes another five minutes for Calvert to start the car and pull out of the driveway.
She lets loose a sigh of relief, glad the gun was unnecessary, unsettled. The whole thing was eerie.
"Mom, we need to
go." Mrs. Alcott jerks, thankfully not pulling the trigger or dropping the gun, startled by how Dinah has snuck up on her. Turning to face her daughter, frowning, Mrs. Alcott is brought up short by the suitcase Dinah has beside her, the backpack she's wearing. Dinah gestures vaguely, saying "I was packing, mom, we need to go
now, before something
really bad happens."
Somewhere between humoring her daughter and genuine, terrified curiosity, she asks "Go where, dear?"
Dinah says "Anywhere that isn't Brockton Bay."
That brings her up short. "
Anywhere?"
"Anywhere."
Mrs. Alcott goes quiet for a minute. Dinah waits with strange patience in spite of her earlier urgency and in spite of being just a child, so prone to impatience otherwise. It unsettles Mrs. Alcott, and she makes her decision. With a broad (fake, hopefully Dinah can't tell) smile on her face, she says "You know, it
has been a while since we visited your grandmother in Georgia. Give me five minutes to pack, and we can be beyond city limits in half an hour." She pauses while Dinah sags in relief. "Let me call your father, too."
---------------------
Dinah fidgets the entire time, up until they've passed the city limits. Somewhat absently, Mrs. Alcott notes that the sky is heavily overcast, no rain. Oddly uniform, too. Unusual. She puts it out of her mind, passing the time with idle chatter to distract Dinah. It doesn't work very well, and naming one of Dinah's friends in passing brings her to the very edge of tears. She just focuses on driving after that.
Unfortunately, Dinah's father hadn't been able to make time. Any other day, this would've been cause to shrug and say to Dinah "More fun for us." Today... it leaves her uneasy.
Ten, maybe fifteen minutes after they've left the city, something in the rear-view mirror catches her attention. Something breaking through the clouds, trailing smoky wisps from its many,
many enormous wings, body pale as marble and far too large.
The Simurgh.
She blanches and glances at her daughter, unwilling to believe. Dinah looks back, and though she murmurs "The angel" to herself, she doesn't evince real surprise. Sadness, but not surprise.
Mrs. Alcott decides the speed limit is more of a suggestion than a rule. You can tell when any given other driver notices, as they all come to the same philosophical position on the law when they do.
She very pointedly does not think about the fact that her daughter is a parahuman. Too many things to process, others more immediately relevant.
Like that her husband is almost certainly lost to her.
Like that her daughter's friends and father are gone already, and her daughter seemed to know it was coming.
Like that there's no going home.
---------------------
She drives for an hour before she stops for a break, but the first thing she does after parking is crush her daughter into a fierce hug and say "Oh,
Dinah."
