Renick's Interlude
Acting Director Renick paused the video, rewound it, and played it again. Cold fury throbbed inside his chest as he switched through multiple cameras and scenes.
It wasn't punishment or atonement, just a reminder of why the PRT was needed, and why his job was so important.
How could one person stop the world from descending into chaos? How could they stare into the gaping mouth of a raging volcano and trace the path to salvation through it?
That was a question that he had asked himself many times in the past, and the more he pondered on it the more his respect for former Director Piggot grew.
Brockton Bay wasn't a powderkeg, it was a nuclear reactor that was already melting down. Everyone knew that the explosion would eventually come, and the only thing there was to do was to try to steer it towards the least number of people.
The ability to pick their fights was a luxury that the PRT lacked. They were always on the back foot, reacting to the actions of the villains and taking any victory wherever they could find it. That was a sad necessity when the villains outnumbered them three to one, with the gap constantly widening.
That was also the reason they were always stretched thin, and why they lost more territory than they reconquered.
How could the heroes successfully defend an entire city when they couldn't find their enemies? How could they fight back when the villains could meld into its underbelly, and patiently wait for the heroes to tire out before attacking where they weren't looking?
For more than ten years Emily Piggot had fought against those odds, with few resources and deteriorating health. She was the kind of woman who could stare at Kaiser right into the eyes and make the wannabe emperor blink, but the years of battle had chipped away her body, mind, and soul alike.
The capture of Lung had felt like a godsend. It would have achieved nothing in the long term because the PRT still lacked the means to establish a presence in the dragon's former territory, but they had been in desperate need of a moral victory. Old and new officers alike had felt reinvigorated by the news. They could do it! They were no longer fighting a losing war, but one that they may win! Renick himself would have carried Armsmaster on his shoulders if the hero had allowed it.
But, like most things in life, that victory came at a hefty price.
The bombing campaign of Bakuda, and the disastrous meeting with Archmage Belisarius, put in evidence a fact they could no longer escape from: Emily Piggot was no longer fit to lead them.
Her stubbornness and unwillingness to take a single step back had been the rock upon which the PRT had stood for years, but that rock was cracking. Better for her to leave like that, weakened but still fighting than to die an inglorious death on the bed of a hospital because of a faulty kidney.
The men and women of the PRT needed their memories of their leader to be those of a warrior, and so, with the help of Armsmaster, Renick convinced her to find a replacement.
Knowing what he knew now, Renick would personally execute his younger self for having such an idea.
"Acting Director Renick, your video conference with Chief Director Costa-Brown starts in five minutes."
Thanking his secretary for the reminder, the man leaned back against his chair preparing for what was to come.
The moment Emily left her position, the PRT suffered some of their greatest defeats since the Slaughterhouse Nine came to town.
The reveal of Director Calvert as the villain Coil.
The renewed offensive of the Empire 88.
And finally, the rise of Heavy Gear as a new player.
That last one stung the most to him. Not because they had been villainous -quite the contrary, in fact- but because some of their members were as young as Vista.
That was a hypocritical thing to say when necessity had forced the PRT to use the Wards as if they were full-fledged heroes, but Renick would cut his own arm off before deploying the kids without the support of adults who cared about their well-being. That's why they only patrolled safe routes, always under the careful watch of a Protectorate hero or a squad of PRT officers, and why they had orders to retreat if they saw a villain.
Belisarius Cawl, though?
The mysterious tinker had sent his kids to fight against Lung, against Coil, and most recently against the Empire. And all in the name of what? Some misguided sense of freedom or justice? What that city needed was unity, not for those wanting to be heroes to start bickering amongst each other.
Renick had hoped to put an end to Heavy Gear's 'adventure' before people were killed, but it was already too late for that. The videos of the Empire's rampage were enough proof of that, and they still made his stomach twist. Who was the monster who equipped a kid of Tech-Priest's age with deadly weaponry and sent him to the front line so he could fight in a gang war?
That was the moment when Renick swore to himself that, whatever 'official' stance the PRT may have on Heavy Gear, he'd bring Belisarius Cawl down.
Even more so if, as they suspected, he had been the instigator behind the burning of Winslow.
A blip from his computer informed him that the time was up and that Rebeca Costa-Brown was waiting for him.
Taking one last look at himself to make sure that he was presentable, he accepted the call.
"Acting Director Renick." The Chief Director, a woman in her forties, greeted him. Her face looked as if made of steel, and it was a well-known fact that she rarely -if ever- smiled. He opened his mouth to greet her back, but before he could do so she continued. "There will be no need for any formalities. You know what I'm calling for."
He nodded. If there was any doubt about it, the reason would soon be on the first page of all major newspapers. "The Empire 88 and Heavy Gear."
"During the last few weeks Brockton Bay has become a center of controversy, much of which has revolved around the latter team," she recited, sounding almost casual. "Some are already comparing what's happening there to the Boston Games."
Despite himself, Renick found himself scowling. The Games had been a tragedy, and a grim reminder of what happened when the Protectorate took villains down yet failed to establish a strong presence in the territories they left behind. He still remembered them. His team had been deployed to contain the situation when the unrest started, far before the higher-ups had realized how bad the situation was and started calling heroes from other cities.
Brockton Bay was not Boston and he'd make sure of that.
"The situation has not deteriorated to that point. No gang from outside the city has moved in to fill the power vacuum, and we do have multiple high-profile individuals in custody."
"Individuals who were gifted to you by an outside group who received aid from a team of known villains."
That had been a slip of the tongue. He knew what the Undersiders were, but he had ordered Armsmaster to let them go. The official reason was that the Empire capes were simply too valuable to risk losing. But there had been something else. They had all seen more than enough action for one day, and if there was an option to end things without a confrontation, Renick would pick it.
"We were in no position to attempt capturing them."
"I'm aware." The Chief Director's face was inscrutable, and if she approved or not of Renick's decisions, there were no hints of it. "But with the Coil debacle fresh in people's minds, and now with this, there are already concerns that the only victories that PRT ENE can achieve are those gifted to them. By groups that are, at best, violent vigilantes or, at worst, villains."
It took a lot of Renick's willpower to keep himself seated. Whoever had said that they hadn't just attacked his personal pride, but also the pride of all the people who had bled for this city.
"I still believe that I can turn Heavy Gear to our side," he said, trying to turn the conversation around to more positive avenues. Despite everything that had happened, their actions had been aimed at the betterment of the city. They just needed to realize that they could do more alongside the PRT. "They are just children needing better guidance."
"Children who were filmed on national television murdering dozens of people and causing uncountable amounts of property damage." The Chief Director made a pause, letting her words sink in. "The situation is bad, and I'm not talking just about the Youth Guard breathing down our necks but about the dangerous precedent this sets. I don't know how Heavy Gear has been this successful and I sincerely don't care, but young parahumans are bound to imitate them. None of us want more bodies in their cities, Renick. Especially if they are the bodies of children."
Renick's hands clenched into fists.
He hadn't thought about that.
His Wards had already expressed their frustration when the topic of Heavy Gear was brought up. Vista in particular had been very vocal about how much she desired a rematch. But what about other children? What about all those who just got their powers and felt that burning desire to use them? They'd turn the TV on and instead of articles about the Wards they'd see Heavy Gear doing whatever they wanted while defeating villains. It would send the subtle message that they, too, could do it.
It would be a disaster. It would be like before the Wards Program was established when every other week they received news that a child trying to be a hero had been gunned down by the mob.
"Do you suggest that we should engage them?" He still wanted to bring Heavy Gear with the PRT, but if those were the consequences of letting them free, then he'd fight them too.
"No. But only because Brockton Bay doesn't need more problems than it already has. I am perfectly aware that the moment that we declare them villains, they'll stop holding back against the Heroes. But, if they keep taking territory and engaging in violent battles, we'll have no other options."
That was a grim reminder of what their situation was truly like. "I'll personally take care of it, but at the moment our hands are full with the Empire. When can we expect transport to arrive to take the prisoners away?" Dragon was already en route to pick Hookwolf, and as soon as someone took Krieg and the twins off his hands, he'd breathe easier.
"Normally it'd be scheduled to arrive within the weekend, but due to the extreme violence displayed by the Empire capes there will be a trial to discuss their possible transference to the Birdcage."
That felt like a punch in the guts.
"I understand," he said, hiding how defeated he sounded. Birdcage trials were a long and arduous process and, by their very nature, a very public affair. Birdcage-bound inmates couldn't be held in normal prisons or transported through regular means. That meant that, until a decision was reached, they'd most likely stay in the city. "We need reinforcements. Just a flyer or two would make a huge difference."
"I'm afraid that all our parahuman assets are already allocated. Yangban cells have been found on the West Coast, the Slaughterhouse Nine are still nowhere to be seen, and with a new Endbringer attack scheduled to happen soon, The Fallen are mobilizing."
"Problems everywhere," he muttered under his breath, realizing too late that he had said that out loud.
"Like they always are." The Chief Director replied. "Which brings us to our last topic of conversation, the designation of a new Director for the ENE branch." There was the sound of shifting papers as she looked through her desk. "Due to Brockton Bay's deteriorating situation, it was decided that a specific set of skills may be needed. The one who's being considered to replace Thomas Calvert is James Tagg."
Renick recoiled back at the sound of that name.
No. Anyone but him.
"Chief Director, that man will turn the city into a warzone!"
"Have you seen the news, Renick? Brockton Bay is already turning into one. We need a firm hand that can steer that ship."
His breath quickened as a plan started forming in his mind. It would be extreme, but better than anything that James could do. "Is the decision final?" He raised a finger. "I just need a week. Give me one week and I'll correct the situation."
The Chief Director's eyes were like two drills as she stared back at Renick.
"As we speak," she explained, "James Tagg is in Germany in a joint operation with the Meisters, fighting the Gesellschaft. I can give you up to two weeks before making the announcement official. Give us results, and his position will be reconsidered."
That was better than what he could have been expecting. "I'll see it done."
"Make sure you do because we need to show people that they can trust us to defend them against the villains. Costa-Brown out."
The image blinked out of existence, replaced with Renick's own reflection on the black screen.
James Tagg.
The name felt like ash in his mouth.
He and Renick had trained together and had even been friends once, long ago. Before the Simurgh. Before Lausanne.
James had always been the better soldier and officer, and so he had been deployed to that God-forsaken place. Stories about what had happened in that city had been carefully censored. Stories of civilians throwing themselves at machine gunfire. Of entire families being led into bottlenecks so they could be gunned down. Of kill squads being sent into the city to purge it, house by house, killing men, women, and children alike. They didn't stop until a city of one hundred thousand inhabitants had been turned into a graveyard.
And the men who survived that, who returned from such a monstrous operation, had been little more than broken husks.
Many of them died in the following years, most of them by their own hands.
But James had survived it all. Or, at least, his body had. He wasn't a man who compromised. He just got the job done, no matter the consequences or the cost. It was when the PRT no longer cared about capturing the opposition that they sent him. There was no doubt in Renick's mind that he could bring the villains of Brockton Bay to their knees, but how much of the city would remain after he was done? How many corpses would there be to bury?
That couldn't be allowed to happen.
Gulping down a glass of water, Renick made his mind up.
Priority one was the issue of the Empire.
If there was something that he had learned under Piggot, was that fighting crime was a balancing act. He needed his best capes defending the prisoners to ensure that the Empire didn't free them, but while they were tied down doing that someone else had to patrol the city.
That was the reason why Piggot hadn't pushed to capture Empire capes and had focussed the PRT's efforts on disrupting their operations.
As the situation stood, Renick faced an impossible choice over what objective to defend. The villains knew that, and whatever option Renick picked, they'd make all of them pay for it.
New Wave could help, but the sad reality was that they were no longer active and that in practice they were little more than very powerful and famous civilians. They had their own jobs and private lives to look after, and simply couldn't be stationed on a PRT location days on end waiting for an enemy attack that may never arrive.
Still, they were a powerful deterrent and Photon Lady had expressed her willingness to help the PRT in the past. It had been years since the last time they operated as a team, but their help could be invaluable in the days to come.
Also, what Costa-Brown said about the Slaughterhouse gave him an idea. Could he bring independents from outside the city? That was something to consider.
And that left him with priority number two.
Despite Costa-Brown's willingness to give him a chance to prove himself, Renick recognized the offer for what it was: just more rope to hang himself with.
Coil's takeover had delivered a devastating blow to the PRT's reputation, and what the higher-ups had here was a chance to clear the board and start over. They only needed one last good reason to defund the Brockton Bay branch and start over, with new people that wouldn't carry the stigma of Coil.
That wasn't going to happen for as long as Renick had one last thing to say. He had personally carried out the investigations that rooted out Coil's remaining spies and knew that those that remained were good people. He was going to save his colleagues' careers even if it killed him.
Which was a real possibility.
If Costa-Brown wanted a victory, he'd give her one.
Renick punched a key into his Keyboard and his PC linked to the one in Armsmaster's workshop.
The hero was with his back turned to the camera, welding something on a workbench covered in diagrams that Renick couldn't decipher. There were also pictures of The Fight's new body, and samples of all the pieces of Heavy Gear's tech that they have managed to recover. Whatever Armsmaster's new obsession was, it seemed to involve the blocks that could change size that Tech-Priest had used against the Wards.
"Armsmaster," Renick called but there was no answer. "Armsmaster!" He tried again and this time it did the trick.
The man placed his tools down and turned his chair around, tossing his welding goggles aside as he did so. "Acting Director. How can I help you?" He asked with just the faintest trace of irritation in his voice. It was clear that he wanted to return to his work, but first, there were other duties for them to attend to.
"What progress have you made on our project involving Heavy Gear?"
Armsmaster stood up, revealing that the objects he had been working on were vials full of what seemed to be blood. He went to another table from where he picked several documents. "Originally I was working under the assumption that the Parahuman 'The Fight', codenamed 'Yokai', may have been a projection or a changer, but after our most recent meeting I must discard that hypothesis. I concluded that she's either a normal human who had already been augmented before facing Lung, a recently augmented Case 53, or an android. If this last idea is proved true, that would put in question how many of Heavy Gear's members are human, if any."
Renick blinked in surprise at that conclusion. There was the theory that one of the Tinkers of heavy gear had a specially on autonomous drones, but full robotics? It made it all the more frightening when they considered that Yokai had fought Hookwolf to a standstill.
That was something that Renick would keep out of his reports until they had a clear idea of what was going on. The number of drones that Armsmaster had detected buried underneath Tech-Priest had already been a reason for concern, but if news spread out that they could build robots as strong as Brute 7, there would be panic. The claims of Tech-Priest being a biotinker wouldn't help. Worst case scenario, some would push to quarantine the city.
That was something for Renick to worry about later, but despite Armsmaster's excitement, it wasn't what he had come here for.
"That's fascinating, Armsmaster, but I was talking about our other project."
The hero looked at him in confusion before realizing what he meant. "Oh, yes. That." He even sounded disappointed for not being able to talk about more tinkertech. "The great majority of Winslow's former teachers were reticent of sharing details of their experiences, but after exercising some light legal pressure many offered useful information." It would be interesting to know what the man considered 'light legal pressure'. "By piecing their testimonies together I got that Taylor Hebert complained on numerous occasions about a bullying campaign directed against her. The faculty discarded her claims as inflammatory and untrue, and eventually, the complaints stopped."
Either because she got tired of lying as the school would claim, or because she gave up on trying to get help from the authorities. Then she triggered, and Belisarius Cawl knocked at her door like the devil ready to make a deal.
"Do you have the names of who the Hebert girl accused as her aggressors?"
"There were several, but the two most prominent ones were Emma Barnes-" Armsmaster made a pause. There was no need for that, Renick knew what was coming. "And one Sophia Hess."
Shadow Stalker. One of the Wards.
"Can we confirm these accusations?"
"Impossible without Winslow's archives."
The same archives that burnt down together with the building. Had Cawl planned for that? By doing that he gave the Hebert girl a brief feeling of satisfaction, while also locking her with him, forever unable to prove her allegations.
"Thank you. Carry on, Armsmaster."
The hero cut the transmission, all too eager to return to his work.
To say that their situation was dire was putting it lightly. Costa Brown had made it clear, If Brockton Bay kept spiraling out of control, then a firmer hand would be needed. One that wouldn't be afraid of militarizing the heroes and wouldn't stop until the other side begged for unconditional surrender.
Renick wasn't going to let that happen, but to achieve that he needed to show that the streets of Brockton Bay were under the control of the PRT, and no one else's.
He refused to give up on his city. He'd keep fighting to the bitter end. But, for the time being, he'd need a long talk with his legal team over what to do with Taylor Hebert.
...
