Price of Blood
Part Six: Chasing Shadows
Danny Hebert
Gravel crunched under the tyres of the car as Danny pulled into the driveway. He set the park brake and switched off the engine, then settled back with a sigh. It was good to relax for just a moment, but he couldn't sit in the car for too long. Taylor needed him, now more than ever.
There was a tap on the car window. His eyes widening, he turned to see a brightly-clad figure standing beside the car. Slowly, he opened the door. "Uh, Velocity, right?"
"That's correct, Mr Hebert."
Carefully, mindful of many small aches and pains, Danny climbed out of the car. By the time he was on his feet, he still hadn't figured out the answer to a particularly pressing question, so he decided to just ask it. "Uh … what are you
doing here?"
The speedster shrugged slightly. "Armsmaster's orders. I'm supposed to search the house, with your permission, and locate any evidence of your daughter being bullied."
Danny frowned slightly. "He didn't mention this to me."
Velocity managed to look irritated, even with a good portion of his face covered by his mask. "He wasn't permitted to. We're under high-end security protocols, following the Swarm incident. A part of those protocols requires us to presume that enemy interests have people inside the PRT building, and to maintain appropriate information security."
Danny blinked. "There's moles inside the
PRT building?"
"Hah. As if." Velocity shook his head. "But the protocols are there, so we have to follow them until either the Deputy Director or the Director herself rescinds them. So Armsmaster didn't tell you that I'd be going to your house. That way, nobody else knows it, either."
"Oh." It sort of made sense, in a burn-before-reading, paranoid kind of way. "Well, uh, okay. So what'll you be looking for?"
Velocity shrugged. "Apart from this journal that your daughter mentioned? I have no idea. Notes. Photographs of bruising. Hate mail on social media. Do you know if she even
goes on social media?"
Danny blinked. "She doesn't own a phone. And she doesn't spend hours a day on the computer in her room, so I guess not?" He was struck by the guilty knowledge that he knew even less about his own daughter's habits than he had previously imagined.
"Okay, we can scratch social media unless she points out stuff on it, I suppose." Velocity sighed. "We've done courses on this. Never expected to actually have to
do it without someone coaching me."
"I thought we were over and
done with this shit," Danny agreed ruefully. "Well, her room's upstairs. I can show you where it is, if you want."
The hero made a negatory gesture. "I'll need you to stay out here for a moment. If someone recognised your daughter from that photo that went up on PHO, and linked you to this, there's an outside chance that people might be coming after you. So I need to check for anyone lurking inside."
"What? Coming after
me?" Danny shook his head. "That makes no sense at all."
"Lynch mobs rarely do." Velocity's face – the part of it that Danny could see under the mask – took on an expression of distaste. "I've seen it before, and the victim never manages to change their minds with logic. So if it even looks like happening, don't try to argue. Just get the hell out of there."
"Right." Danny felt a chill down his back. "Thanks. I guess."
"You're welcome," Velocity said lightly, before he became all business again. "Do I have your permission to search the house for evidence that your daughter was being bullied?"
"Um, sure. Uh … did you need a key to get in?" Danny fumbled in his pocket.
"We cut our own," Velocity assured him. "Back when we were still wondering if you were a suspect." Producing said key, the speedster moved up to the front door. It opened, and he was inside before Danny could blink.
Lights came on all over the house at once. Danny barely caught sight of a blurred form against curtains in an upstairs window, before the front door opened again.
"Well, that's that," Velocity said, stepping out on to the porch. There was a thick sheaf of papers in his right hand, bound together with a bulldog clip. "Found it."
Danny stared at the papers. There were a
lot of them. "Is that … it? Her journal?"
"It was in the right place." Velocity's expression was unhappy.
"Do I even want to see it?" Part of Danny wanted to witness what had been done to his little girl. Another part feared what he would find out.
"You can look, but you can't touch," the hero warned him. "Evidence procedures."
"Right, right." Danny leaned forward to look at the first page. "Well, it's definitely Taylor's handwriting. I'd know it anywhere." He concentrated on the writing.
"September eight. Six vicious emails, Sophia pushed me down the stairs when I was near the bottom, making me drop my books, tripped and shoved me no less than three times during gym, and threw my clothes at me while I was in the shower after gym class had ended, getting them wet ..."
Trailing to a halt, Danny stared again at the sheaf of papers. It looked very thick. "Is that all like …
that?"
Velocity nodded. "Yes. I flicked through it. She was very thorough. There's even a section with nothing but hurtful emails. That'll be something to cross-check."
"Oh. Good. So … that'll be enough to nail whoever's been bullying her? This girl, Sophia?"
"I'll be honest, Mr Hebert." Velocity's voice was serious. "Something like this, handwritten, is, um …" He trailed off, as if searching for a word. "I think they call it 'circumstantial' evidence. It's damaging but not, uh, set in stone as far as evidence goes. A good defence lawyer could pull it to pieces by casting doubt on individual parts, then using that to discredit the whole."
Danny nodded, recalling conversations with Alan Barnes. "Yeah, I've got a friend who's a lawyer. He told me something about that. But it would be good as … corroborating evidence, I think it's called, right?"
Velocity chuckled. "Now you've got me. But I'll get it into the system as fast as I can. Let the big brains sort it out."
"Sounds like a plan," Danny agreed. "Okay, so how do I get back into the PRT building?"
"Park nearby and call them," Velocity said immediately. "They'll send a car to pick you up."
"I don't have a cell phone, either," Danny pointed out. "I … I don't believe in them."
"Hm." Velocity rubbed his chin. "All right, how about this. You leave your car here, and I'll call the PRT to come pick you up and take custody of this journal at the same time. While we're waiting, you can pack whatever you want to bring along. That sound okay to you?"
"Yeah," Danny said. "It does. You like tea or coffee?"
"
Please." Velocity managed to almost sound affronted. "If I'm going to be running around town all night, I'm going to need all the caffeine I can get."
"Gotcha." Although he didn't really feel like it, Danny grinned slightly. "Coffee it is."
<><>
Clockblocker
Dennis felt like cheering when the PRT building came into view. He was young and fit, but walking for a couple of hours at a time was still hard on the feet. "First thing I'm gonna do," he declared, "is take my boots off, put my feet under the air conditioning outlet, and wiggle my toes."
"Whatever floats your boat," Shadow Stalker retorted. "Hey, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Dennis tilted his head. "I didn't hear anything."
"It came from over there." Shadow Stalker pointed. "It was like a groan. I'm gonna go check it out."
"Be careful," Dennis said. "It might be a groan man, and you're just a teenager."
She closed her eyes and shook her head as if in pain. Behind his faceplate, Dennis grinned.
Gotcha.
"Just … shut up and stay here," she growled. "I'll let you know if I see anything."
Turning to shadow, she leaped toward the roof of the low building before them. Dennis recognised it as a post office, but that was about it. She blended in perfectly with the shadows, dropping off the other side of the building.
He waited, occasionally casting wistful glances toward the PRT building, but determined not to leave his partner behind. After a good thirty seconds had passed with no return, he set his jaw and started moving around the building. Some of the patches of shadow were deeper than others, so he pulled the small flashlight off his belt and turned it on.
Thus equipped, he made his way to the front of the post office, to spot Shadow Stalker examining the wall. No, he realised as he got closer, she was looking at the post office boxes.
"What's up, Stalker?" he asked cheerfully as he got closer. "Looking to take out a box of your own?"
"No," she replied absently. "I thought maybe this one had been broken into." She tapped one of the boxes. "Marks on it, see?"
He couldn't see the marks she was referring to, but her eyesight was usually pretty good. "Not really." Reaching out, he wiggled the little door. It refused to budge. "They didn't get in, though."
"Yeah, well. Sometimes that's the best you can hope for." Dusting her hands off, she turned away from the wall of boxes. "Let's go."
<><>
Shadow Stalker
"Damn right." Clockblocker led the way back around to the street they had just come from. It was only about a block to go.
Sophia hated to admit it, but since getting the call, she had actually begun to enjoy the patrol, if only because it would soon be over.
This'll be the last patrol I go on with the other Wards, she realised with what was almost a pang of regret.
At least until this operation is over. Whenever that is. Hope it isn't too long. Don't want Mom and Terry thinking I'm a villain or something. For too long, anyway.
Which reminded her.
I still have to text him back, let him know I'm good to go.
"Going rooftop," she told Clockblocker.
"Wow,
seriously?" the white-clad teen asked, incredulity clear in his tone. Dramatically, he pointed. "There's the PRT building
right there. We're on the home stretch. And you want to go looking for
more trouble?"
"It's just a quick check around," she retorted, nettled. "Won't be a minute."
Before he could muster another argument, she leaped upward, phasing into shadow as she did so. With the ease of long practice, she scaled the side of the ten-storey building in just seconds. Glancing backward, she could see Clockblocker standing on the footpath below, looking up at her.
Was he checking out my butt? Again?
With a shake of her head – Clockblocker made this decision
easy for her – she reached around under her cloak. The burner phone, which had until very recently resided in the post office box, now nestled in one of the spare pouches on her belt, along with the bluetooth earpiece that had been taped to it. She pulled the phone out now and powered it up.
Checking through the Contacts list, she found only one number. Quickly – Clockblocker was a little dense, but he wasn't
stupid – she typed out a single word. READY.
The reply came so fast that he must have been waiting on her. GOOD. PUT THE EARPIECE IN.
Oh. Okay. They must be moving up the timetable. She allowed herself a feral grin.
Good.
Lifting her mask for a moment, she fitted the earpiece and turned it on. With her mask on and her hood up, nobody would notice that it was even there. Which, she supposed, was the whole idea. The phone went back into the pouch.
Let's do this thing.
<><>
Danny Hebert
The ride back with Agent Petrowski had been … not quite boring, but not as tense as it could have been. Not much conversation had passed on the trip; the PRT man seemed content to simply drive, while Danny was caught up in his own thoughts. He was vaguely grateful that the man didn't want to make conversation.
Or maybe he's not cleared for this? Danny neither knew nor cared. He just wanted to get back to Taylor.
They turned down the side-street leading, Danny presumed, to the rear entrance of the PRT building. The headlights picked out two forms walking, both costumed. One was in all white, the other in black. They turned to look, shading their eyes, as the driver slowed the car.
He stopped the vehicle beside them and buzzed the window down. "Clockblocker, Shadow Stalker," he greeted them easily. "Petrowski. Headed back to base?"
"Yes," the boy replied. The girl stayed silent. "What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing's the matter," Petrowski assured him. "Want a lift? Only a few hundred yards, but it's a few hundred yards you don't have to walk if you don't want to."
Clockblocker hesitated. "Got ID?"
"And who's that in the car with you?" asked Shadow Stalker sharply. "He's not PRT."
"Yes, I've got ID," Petrowski said, showing Clockblocker the same card he had used to identify himself to Danny. "And I'm escorting
this gentleman in to base. He's with me."
"Oh, okay." Clockblocker glanced at the dark-clad girl. "Shadow Stalker, should we take up the kind gentleman's offer?"
They can't be any older than Taylor, Danny thought with a touch of surrealism.
"Suit yourself," the girl declared with what might even have been a snort of disdain.
"Well,
yeah," he retorted cheerfully. "Thanks, Agent Petrowski." Opening the back door, the teen hero climbed into the car. "Whoa, what's this?"
'This' was the heavy plastic envelope into which Taylor's journal had been zipped. Petrowski had put it on the back seat for the duration of the drive.
"That's sensitive material," the agent said firmly, reaching back between the seats. "Pass it here, please." Danny willed himself not to react as Clockblocker passed it over. "Thank you." Petrowski tucked it securely down between the seats.
"No problems." The boy was just settling himself down when the door opened again.
"Shove over," Shadow Stalker ordered him. "Don't take up the whole damn seat, here."
Despite having no view of Clockblocker's face, Danny would almost have guaranteed that the boy was rolling his eyes. "Wow, and here I thought you were gonna rough it, Stalker."
"What, and let you write up the after-action report to make yourself look good? Dream on." Shadow Stalker settled herself into the car, pulled her cloak around herself, and closed the door. "Okay, we can go now."
"Sure." Petrowski put the car into motion. Danny could almost feel the palpable curiosity exhibited by the two teens in the back seat. That was fine; he had a certain amount of that quality himself.
Well, may as well ask. Clearing his throat, he looked over his shoulder at the young heroes. "Uh, can I ask you guys a question?"
Petrowski cleared his throat. "They're not cleared to discuss sensitive material." His tone was light, but the warning was clear.
"Yeah, I got that," Danny agreed. "Just a general question."
"Sure," said Clockblocker readily enough. "What do you want to know?"
"Oh, uh, what's it like being a Ward?" Danny asked, regretting the question at the last moment.
They probably get asked this question every time they meet anyone on the street. But he had to know.
For Taylor's sake.
"That's a tough one," Clockblocker said carefully. "It's fun. Fraught, sometimes. But we've got our team as backup. And we've got the Protectorate to show us how. Stalker? Anything you want to add?"
Shadow Stalker didn't reply; if Danny didn't know better, he would have sworn she was staring intently at him. But that was ridiculous; what reason would she have to do that? He didn't know her, and she certainly didn't know him.
"Earth Bet to Shadow Stalker," Clockblocker said cheerfully, elbowing his colleague in the ribs. "Shadow Stalker, come in."
That got her attention; she curled her arm protectively over her ribs and turned on Clockblocker furiously. "Seriously, Clock. What the hell?"
"Hey, just trying to get your attention, Stalker," the white-clad hero reminded her hastily. "We were talking about what life's like as a Ward."
"What's to talk about?" she asked with a shrug. "We go out, we kick ass, we come back and go to school. No big." Leaning forward, she looked more closely at Danny. "You look familiar. Do I know you?"
The intent gaze was beginning to make Danny slightly nervous. "Pretty sure I'd remember if I knew a member of the Wards," he observed, trying to make a joke of it.
"Not if you only knew us out of costume," Clockblocker pointed out cheerfully.
"Sir, what's your name?" asked Shadow Stalker abruptly. Danny opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off when Petrowski cleared his throat loudly.
"As I said, Shadow Stalker," the agent stated firmly, "I'm escorting
this gentleman in to base. On a sensitive matter. In fact, it would be a good idea if you both forgot you saw him altogether. Is that understood?"
"Uh, yeah," Clockblocker said hastily. "Stalker?"
She didn't answer for a long moment. Danny saw Petrowski actually opening his mouth again before she spoke. "Okay, okay. Fine.
Sheesh. It's just that he looks so damn familiar."
The nose of the car dipped downward as Petrowski drove the vehicle into what Danny presumed to be the PRT undercover carpark. Nobody spoke as the car rolled onward, finally pulling up in a carpark space. Petrowski killed the engine and set the park brake before turning once more to the two Wards. "You two go on. And don't speak about this to anyone. Understood?"
"Yeah, sure, fine," Clockblocker said at once. "Come on, Stalker." He got out, followed a moment later by the dark-clad girl. The car door closed behind them. They walked side by side toward the lift, the boy's slightly longer legs compensating for the girl's brisk stride.
Danny cleared his throat. "Uh, was -" His words broke off as Petrowski held up a finger for silence, then picked up a radio microphone.
"Petrowski here. In the garage. I have Mr Hebert with me. Clockblocker and Shadow Stalker are on the way down. Repeat, Charlie Bravo and Sierra Sierra are on the way down."
The radio crackled with what may have been a "Roger" as he put the microphone down, then turned toward Danny. "You had a question, Mr Hebert?"
"Uh, yeah." Danny had the feeling that he was making an idiot out of himself, but he didn't know how. "Why didn't you want them to know who I was?"
Petrowski eyed him impassively for a long moment. "I'm afraid I don't have clearance to tell you that, Mr Hebert."
"Is it to protect Taylor?" Danny hated feeling as though he was begging, but for Taylor's sake he would do so on bended knee if he had to. "Please tell me at least that much."
Minutes seemed to pass, but in reality it had to be only ten or fifteen seconds. "It is definitely for your daughter's benefit, yes," Petrowski conceded.
"Right. Good. Thanks." Danny gestured at the car door. "Is it okay if we get out now?"
"It is." Petrowski opened his door, then retrieved the plastic envelope before getting out. Danny took a little longer, as he had to wrestle his over-stuffed overnight bag out as well. They headed for the lift; just as they got there, it opened to disgorge half a dozen fully-armoured PRT troopers.
Danny stepped back, a little startled; more than one containment foam nozzle tracked him, then pointed at the ceiling once more. "Time?" asked one of the soldiers.
"Forty-five seconds," Petrowski replied. Danny had no time to ask him what that was about, as the agent was hustling him into the elevator. He pressed a blank white card into Danny's hand. "This will get you to the infirmary and the cafeteria. Don't go anywhere else unescorted."
"Right. Uh …" Before Danny could formulate any one of the dozen or so questions he wanted to ask, Petrowski had pressed the button for the fifth floor and stepped back out of the lift. Danny watched the doors closed and then the lift started upward.
I have no idea what's going on around here.
Still, he supposed, it was a good thing that
someone did.
<><>
Shadow Stalker
"So what was with you and that guy?" asked Clockblocker as the lift doors closed. "You couldn't take your eyes off of him. I mean, seriously, he's old enough to be …" He cut himself off.
Your father, he'd meant to say. But to say that would remind him of his
own father, not so slowly dying of cancer. "Are you into old guys now?" he added slyly, wanting to take his mind off the deep pain. "Do I have to warn Armsmaster to watch out?"
Sophia drove an elbow into his ribs, not gently, as the lift came to a halt. "Shut the fuck up," she said curtly. "None of your business. He reminded me of someone, that's all. Just wish I could remember who."
"Like Petrowski told us," Clockblocker reminded her, sounding a little pained.
Good. "Sensitive business."
As they stepped from the lift, the new phone vibrated gently in its pouch; Sophia heard the ringtone in her ear. Casually, as if scratching her head, she reached up and tapped the button to accept the call.
Calvert began speaking at once, without so much as a greeting or preamble.
"Be aware that the plans have been moved up. Operation Disgrace starts tonight. I'll give you what guidance I can, but once it begins, it's up to you to get out. It has to be absolutely authentic."
Sophia nodded. "Yes," she said. "I understand."
"Well, good," Clockblocker said more cheerfully. "I'm glad."
"
Excellent. Can you tell me where you are right now, and who you are with?"
She had to remind herself that the other Ward could not hear the voice in the earpiece she was wearing.
"Uh, Clock?" she said. "Can you hit the button to get into the Wards' base? I think I've got something stuck to my boot."
"
Perfect, thank you."
"Wow, didn't your mother ever teach you to wipe your feet?" asked Clockblocker rhetorically as Sophia leaned back against the wall of the hallway and fiddled with her boot.
"I can always wipe 'em on you," she threatened.
"Bully," he complained. "Meanie." But despite his put-upon tone, he nonetheless moved up to the retinal scanner and lowered his face toward the reader. The light
beep announced that he was recognised; she moved up alongside him as the countdown began.
The heavy metal doors slid open and she entered the Wards base. Even without the warning, she would have been on edge. She wasn't quite sure what to expect, but seeing Kid Win arguing with a tech was not it.
"Look, kid, I'm just trying to do my job here," the tech said in a world-weary voice that made Sophia suddenly certain that this argument had already covered this ground. And would again.
"Is your
job taking away our phones?" demanded Kid Win. "You realise we need these things to communicate when we're in the field."
"What's happening?" asked Clockblocker, just as the tech went into a spiel about a 'security exploit' in the Wards' phones that needed to be patched right away.
This is it, she realised.
It's happening now. Behind her, the doors started to close.
If I don't move now, I'll be trapped down here.
"Hey Clock hand my phone in thanks gotta go eat," she rattled off as fast as she could, pulling out the phone in question and tossing it to the white-clad Ward.
"Wait, what, huh?" blurted Clockblocker, fumbling the phone twice before catching it. Across the room, Aegis had turned to look, and his eyes had locked on to Sophia.
He's in on it, or he's been told the story. Either way, I can't guarantee that he'll let me go.
Even as Aegis began to move, Sophia threw herself backward, slipping between the closing doors.
I got maybe five seconds lead time. Gotta use that.
Sophia had won races with margins in the tenths of a second. Of course, the people she'd been competing against hadn't been able to
fly. She pelted along the corridor toward the lift, her ears picking up the hiss of the door beginning to open behind her. When she reached the lift, she slapped the call button, but the doors did not open. The display showed that the elevator was at the fifth floor.
Unless it starts moving right now, it won't get here in time. It didn't move. She turned toward the stairwell door and yanked on the handle. It refused to move.
Shit, shit, shit. The door opened from the Wards' base, and Aegis came out. He was actually hovering about a foot from the floor. "Shadow Stalker!" he called out.
In a last-ditch ploy, Sophia tapped the side of her mask, causing the Tinker-made lenses to slide down. Immediately, electrical lines began tracing themselves over the walls and floor all around her. The lift and stairwell doors were a no-show; there was far too much electricity going through either one.
Fuck. Trapped.
"Shadow Stalker, get back here!" Aegis was flying toward her now. He would be on her in less than a second. She needed a way out.
There.
It was at knee height, but there was a void inside the wall.
Air duct. Normally, she would have had to find a vent and then remove said vent before finding out if she could actually fit down it. But her powers made all of that immaterial, so to speak. She went to shadow about one tenth of a second before Aegis ploughed through where she'd been standing. The disruption of her shadow body made things painful and awkward as she reformed, but she didn't let it stop her.
Lunging forward, she pushed her way into the wall, turning so that she would line up along the air duct.
Now to find out where this goes, and whether Piggy ever thought to put electrified mesh in the ducts. If the Director had done that, this was going to be an extremely short and undignified mission.
No. Commander Calvert's depending on me. I'm not gonna fuck this up.
One way or another, I've got to get out of the building.
<><>
Aegis
"
Damn it!" Aegis punched the wall where Shadow Stalker had vanished. The metal dented very slightly, even as the muscles in his hand rearranged themselves to support his broken knuckles. "We
had her!"
The door to the Wards' base opened once more, and Armsmaster emerged. "Aegis. What happened? Where is she?"
Carlos took a deep breath, then another. Going off the handle at his superior would not be a good move. Armsmaster didn't have a high tolerance for excessive displays of emotion. "Inside the walls somewhere."
"Inside the
walls?"
He bit back on his frustration. "Air ducts, I think. But we
had her. She must have figured something out. One more second and the door would've shut. She would've been locked in, and you could've taken her into custody. But she knew something was up. Dunno how, but she took one look at me and bolted. I got out here, and she went shadow and dived into the wall." Aware that he was beginning to babble, he forced himself to shut up.
Armsmaster strode closer. "Do you think someone tipped her off somehow?"
"I can't see how, or who." Carlos shook his head. "You wouldn't even let us tell Clockblocker." He took a deep breath. "My failure, sir. I'm senior Ward on site. I'll wear it."
"We'll burn that bridge when we come to it." Armsmaster's voice was sharp. "Right now, we have a dangerous fugitive running loose in the PRT building. With me." He went silent for a moment as he tapped in the code for the stairwell door, then pulled the door open. "Put me through to Maintenance."
Aegis nearly replied to that, then he realised that Armsmaster must have activated the phone in his helmet. As Armsmaster took the stairs three at a time, while Carlos flew beside him, the armoured hero gave a series of commands, which Carlos only partially understood. Something to do with closing air vents and overclocking the ventilation fans.
"Gallant and Clockblocker?" Aegis had to ask. Two guards in the stairwell, armed with foam dispensers, stepped aside for them.
"Gallant is briefing him. They'll be going up to the fifth floor to cover the infirmary. I've put in calls for the rest of the Wards, as well as the Protectorate, but we've only got a narrow window before she finds a way out. The air ducts will be too small for her to get through in places without going to her shadow form. Once she does that, the high pressure air will quite literally flush her out."
"Flush her? Where to?"
Armsmaster's tone was grimly satisfied. "A holding cell."
"And if she finds a place where she can go solid?" Carlos didn't want to seem to be nitpicking the plan, but it seemed to be an obvious question.
"If it's inside the air ducts, she will present a significant obstacle to air flow. Maintenance will be able to pinpoint her for us, and we can cage her in and capture her."
Carlos thought about that. "What if she leaves the air ducts altogether?"
"Then she will neither get flushed out nor become an obstacle. In which case, we leave the fans running and search the building, floor by floor if necessary."
Carlos felt a little sickened. Shadow Stalker had not been a nice person, sure, but she'd also been a teammate. Now they were hunting her down. "What, uh, what levels of force are you authorising, sir?"
"Level four at minimum. Level five if necessary. Once we have her subdued, we can use specialist restraints to stop her from slipping away. Until then, we don't go easy. Subdue, restrain, and
then ask questions."
Level four was hard physical contact rather than locks and holds; it also included pepper spray. Level five, on the other hand, was anything short of actual lethal force. "Sir, are we absolutely certain that she's guilty here? She may be –"
Armsmaster's voice was grim. "We've found strong evidence that Shadow Stalker effectively triggered the Swarmbringer. By running, she sealed her guilt. We have to bring her in for public safety."
Carlos also heard what Armsmaster didn't say out loud.
And if we don't, the PR fallout will be horrific. "Got it."
Armsmaster nodded. "Good."
They kept moving.
End of Part Six
