Price of Blood
Part Two: Investigation
Dr Hubert Lansing, MD
PRT ENE Building, Brockton Bay
"How is she?"
Lansing looked up from the sleeping girl. Armsmaster stood there, solid and forbidding. His mouth was set in a hard, straight line.
"Well, she'll live," Lansing ventured. "She's been worked over pretty good. Broken jaw, broken nose, a couple of broken ribs, suspected internal bruising. She's lucky nothing's ruptured, actually. Depressed fracture of her right cheekbone. Suspected concussion. Lost all the skin off the heels of both hands. Bruising over a fair percentage of her body, both old and new."
"
Old bruising?" Armsmaster leaned forward, intent. "It didn't happen today?"
"Not today, no." Lansing led the way out of the surgery; behind him, IV bags fed saline and sedatives into the girl's veins. "If you were to ask me, she shows all the signs of a classic physical abuse case. But there's something odd about this. She was tied up with duct tape. Including over her mouth and eyes. Why?"
"I can think of several reasons," Armsmaster replied grimly. "None of them good."
Lansing tilted his head in agreement. "Very true. It's pretty difficult to bruise yourself on soft restraints like duct tape. She managed it."
"She didn't have duct tape on her face when we encountered her."
"Well, I found residue of the adhesive on her face. So it was there. And I peeled the remains of the tape off her wrists and ankles myself. What did you guys cut it with? Your halberd?"
"It was like that when we found her." Armsmaster sounded puzzled, which didn't surprise Lansing. This girl had too many mysteries around her. "When can I talk to her?"
Lansing gestured magnanimously. "Be my guest. But she won't be answering for quite some time. We're going to have to wire her jaw before she comes out of sedation and wait till it heals."
"So, months." Armsmaster didn't sound pleased at all.
"Well, days. Hours at the very least," Lansing conceded. "If you're okay with her mumbling a lot, and not being very coherent. And at some point, you're going to have to locate her next of kin and explain to them exactly what happened to her." Lansing did his best to not show his appreciation that this would not be
his job.
Abruptly, Armsmaster turned and left. With another sigh, Lansing went to his desk. The case notes on this incident were going to be
interesting … and not in a good way.
<><>
Emily Piggot
Regional Director, PRT ENE
Emily hated days like this. It had been a nice quiet Wednesday, with minimal gang activity, right up until just before four in the afternoon. Then everything had gone to hell.
The first indication that something was wrong occurred when the frantic 9-1-1 calls started coming in. People were being attacked by bugs in the area of the Swarm, as it ended up being called. Those on the perimeter were the luckiest; they could drive to safety, or in some cases just run away. Further in, it got worse. A lot worse.
She looked at her monitor screen, at the figure for the final casualty count, then up at Armsmaster. The armoured hero was standing at parade rest, but she fancied that she could see the subtle telltales of tension. Armsmaster was deeply unhappy about something, which didn't surprise Piggot.
Right now, I'm not too thrilled either.
"Report." Her voice was flat.
"I've sent in my report already, ma'am," he replied guardedly.
"There are still a few questions I'd like answered." She gazed at him steadily. "Such as why you went into the area of the Swarm without seeking approval first."
"The Swarm had dispersed," he explained. "Miss Militia had indicated the presence of an injured teenage girl. I presumed this to be our bug cape."
Emily tilted her head. "Why?"
His voice was matter-of-fact. "She showed no evidence of being attacked by bugs, and her projected path came from what I estimated to be the epicentre of the Swarm."
She considered that. "Very well. Continue."
"I decided that it was best to confront her away from innocents. She was unable to speak clearly, so I could not interrogate her, but nothing she did or said made me change my mind about her involvement in the matter."
"I'm presuming that you've since investigated further." It wasn't a question.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm still writing that report."
She leaned back in her chair, to give the impression of relaxation. "Give me the highlights. Start with what we know about the proximate cause of this event."
Armsmaster nodded. "I'm ninety-nine percent sure that the girl was indeed the cause of it. Seventy-five percent sure that it was in response to a trigger event."
He paused; Piggot absorbed the information. It wasn't welcome news; trigger events complicated
everything. "Evidence?"
"This has never happened before. It hasn't recurred since we took her into custody. She's obviously been through a severe ordeal. That says 'trigger event' to me."
Grimacing, she nodded. "So noted. What do we know about her?" The previous report had indicated that the girl's prints had not shown up in any databases, and she wasn't carrying ID. Piggot
hated Jane Doe cases.
"Her name is Taylor Anne Hebert," recited Armsmaster, surprising her. "Age fifteen. Her father's name is Daniel Hebert. He's the head of hiring at the Dockworkers' Association, and he's currently in the building. Her mother's dead. Car accident."
Piggot blinked. "I see. So she's awake and talking then?"
Armsmaster shook his head. "No. She's still under sedation, and will be for some time."
"Really." Emily raised her eyebrows quizzically. "So how did you get all that information about her?"
"We backtracked her," Armsmaster explained. "Where we figured the epicentre was, we found an alleyway between houses. There were two corpses there, male juveniles of around Hebert's age."
Emily grimaced. "Two
more. Good God. Is that reflected in the casualty count?"
"It is now. But two pieces of evidence came up when we checked on them. I'm pretty sure I know why the incident was so severe." His jaw hardened. "One of the boys had his fly open. Not by accident, either. When we rolled him over, he was fully exposed."
Emily blinked in confusion. "He was going to urinate on her?"
"I'm thinking something more serious than that. Much more serious. There was an open packet of condoms nearby."
The conclusion was inescapable. "They were going to -" She didn't finish the question. She didn't need to.
He nodded once, sharply. "That's my supposition."
"And did they -" She didn't finish that question either.
"No, thank God. I checked back with Lansing. No sign of anything like that happening."
"Well, the picture's certainly starting to come together." She relaxed slightly. "You still haven't explained how you got her name. Or her father's name."
"The boys were the key here. Not only were they carrying student cards which allowed us to ID them, but one of them had a coin-purse stuffed in his pocket, holding a library card and student card in the name of Taylor Anne Hebert."
"Photo ID?" asked Piggot automatically.
"The student card is, yes," confirmed Armsmaster. "She matches the picture."
"I see." Piggot folded her hands before her. "Go on."
"The bodies have been taken for autopsy, but I fully expect to find that each of them was killed by bugs, given that both bodies had been partially consumed by, well, insects. Investigating further, we found a discarded roll of duct tape, matching the tape which had been used to bind the girl. We also found two strips, each with a ragged hole cut out of the middle of it. The holes match the edges on the tape used to restrain her arms and legs. I'm working on the hypothesis that bugs ate through the tape."
"Bugs. Ate through duct tape." Emily wasn't quite rejecting the idea, but it sounded a little far-fetched.
"Cockroaches can and will eat essentially anything organic," Armsmaster pointed out. "In fact, if this is what happened, they saved her life. She has a broken nose. With a strip of duct tape over her mouth, she would have been barely able to breathe, until they ate a hole in it."
"Hm. Continue."
"Finally, we found coins of various denominations, totalling a couple of dollars, scattered over an area of several square yards. Forensic examination found partial fingerprints on the coins that matched the Hebert girl, as well as those of one of the boys. And there were fibres adhering to the coins that matched the interior of the coin purse."
"So he stole the purse, emptied it of coins, was disgusted at the small amount, and threw them at her?" Emily theorised.
"That's my impression, yes," agreed Armsmaster.
"We'll go with that for the time being, then." Emily paused, frowning. "Getting back to these boys. Which school did you say they went to?"
Armsmaster smiled slightly. "This is where it gets interesting. According to the student cards, all three of them are, or were, students at Winslow High." He paused expectantly.
Emily's head came up. "That's Shadow Stalker's school."
"Yes, ma'am."
And isn't that a turn-up for the books, he didn't have to say.
Silently, she agreed. "Have Triumph speak to Shadow Stalker. We need all the background we can get on the Hebert girl. Especially if she's showing signs of being abused."
Armsmaster nodded. "I'll get right on it." He half-turned, to leave the office.
Piggot held up a hand. "But before you do, you said that her father is in the building? Why hasn't anyone put him through to me?"
"Because he's in custody." Armsmaster paused, then obviously decided not to make her ask the question. "He saw the Swarm on the news, and he knew that Taylor was somewhere near that. When she didn't answer the phone at home, he started driving around, looking for her. He tried twice to get through the cordon around the Swarm, so they arrested him for his own safety. It was only after I put Taylor Hebert's name into the system as a person of interest that I saw his name just above hers, so I checked it out. That was about ten minutes ago."
"Has he been told? How's he taking it?"
"I haven't spoken to the man yet," he admitted. "I've passed on instructions for them to tell him that she's alive."
"We're going to have to talk to him, and soon," Piggot said. "If he's the one who's been abusing her, we need to find out. Now that she's triggered, more abuse could set off another Swarm without warning. We lost two hundred and seventy-three people this time. I don't want it happening again."
"Speaking of which." Armsmaster's tone was careful. "What
is going to happen to her? I know we have an informal policy regarding trigger events, but nearly three hundred people died here. Your average supervillain doesn't rack up that sort of a death toll on
purpose."
"Oh, if I thought for a moment that she'd done it on purpose, I'd be pushing for the Birdcage, or a kill order, whichever I could get," Emily stated flatly. "The trouble is that kill orders are specifically aimed at capes who go off the rails in a big way, and
keep going off the rails. The ones who just plain need to die. She more or less surrendered herself to you, so she doesn't fit that category."
"And the Birdcage?" he asked quietly. She got the impression that he was subtly testing her.
"We could actually make a strong case for the Birdcage," she admitted. "I'm almost inclined to do just that, to be honest. The death toll alone would certainly give us a good justification. Her power frankly terrifies me. There are only two things holding me back from recommending it."
"Which are?"
"One; she's only fifteen, for God's sake. I
really don't want to send a fifteen year old into that hellhole. Two; as you said, this is very likely trigger event related."
"We both know that there's no
official policy regarding new capes and trigger events," he pointed out. Was he playing Devil's advocate for the hell of it, or did he really feel that way? She couldn't tell.
"No, that's true," she agreed. "Just like there's no official policy regarding the unwritten rules. That's so we don't get smartass capes leveraging matters to take advantage of such things. But …" She paused.
"But?" he prompted.
"From what you're saying, they trapped her in that alley. Tied her up with duct tape. Gagged her. Blindfolded her. Robbed her. And they were going to do …
that to her. That's not only ample justification for any trigger event that I ever heard of, but I'm kind of surprised that the trigger event wasn't even more violent."
"Two hundred and seventy-three deaths," he reminded her.
"Oh, I'm not attempting to justify a single one of those deaths," she said, then paused. "Well, maybe one or two." She didn't have to explain exactly which ones she considered justified. "As for the rest … well, I have very bad memories of exactly this sort of thing. However, I'm doing my best to look at this objectively, and I can't see any malice here. Also, she stood down before you even went in there, which is a major point in her favour. So right now, I'm giving her the chance to turn this around for herself."
He nodded. "Understood. So where do we go from here, then? Am I correct in understanding that you want to bring her into the Wards?"
Piggot sighed. "As opposed to what? Leave her to her own devices? If what's just happened is any indication, then Brockton Bay is not a safe city to share with her. This time, it was admittedly pretty bad. People from her own school, no less. Good
God." She shook her head. "The next time, it might be a mugging. Or someone might prank her in class. We really don't know
what will set her off, so our best bet is to get her out of Winslow and under our supervision as fast as possible."
Armsmaster nodded; if he was feeling doubts as to her sweeping statement, he wasn't showing them. "So when do we start that process?"
"Today. Now. I'll sign off on it as fast as we can prepare the paperwork. Triumph speaks to Shadow Stalker. We speak to the Hebert girl. See where we all stand. If she can demonstrate willingness to cooperate, as well as a reasonable level of control over her powers, we can talk about getting her into the Wards." Unspoken were the words
and if she can't, then the Birdcage is still an option.
"And the Swarm? How do we spin that with the public? Nearly three hundred people
died, Director."
He had to bring that up. Her jaw hardened. "I
know, Armsmaster. I've thought about little else since it happened. She certainly can't be a Ward here in Brockton Bay."
"Where, then? Boston? New York?"
Piggot shook her head. "I was thinking Los Angeles. If anyone could help someone with a power like that, it's Alexandria."
Understanding crept into Armsmaster's voice. "And of course, it's across the other side of the country, and if she can keep it subtle for a while, nobody will connect the Swarmbringer to the new bug controller in LA."
"
Swarmbringer?" She stared at him. "Where did
that come from?"
"Sorry, Director. It's all over the PHO boards."
"Good God." She shook her head. "But in essence, you're correct. Nobody will make the connection, especially if she keeps things light and fluffy. We'll have to speak to Glenn about that, but I'm sure he'll have ideas. And then there's the matter of her father." She paused. "Does he strike you as the type to physically abuse a teenage girl?"
Armsmaster shrugged, very slightly. "I don't know what that type looks like, ma'am. In any case, I haven't had the chance to speak with the man yet."
Director Piggot heaved herself up from her desk. "Yes, you told me. Well, then. Why don't we go and do just that."
Armsmaster smiled tightly. "Yes,
ma'am."
<><>
Danny Hebert
Holding Cell, PRT ENE
Screaming at the walls hadn't helped. Nor had punching the door. There was a camera up in the corner of the room, entirely unprotected; he would have been tempted to try to break it, but something told him that it was a dummy. Any
real camera would have been much better hidden. He didn't even have a one-way mirror to make rude gestures at. So when the door finally opened, he was sitting at the metal table, studying his skinned knuckles.
"At last!" he blurted, jumping up. "Do you know how long I've been waiting -"
"Yes. I do." It was the overweight woman in the blue suit who spoke. "I'm Director Piggot. Sit down, Mr Hebert. We have much to discuss."
"But I -" he began, then cut himself off when a familiar figure stepped into the interrogation room behind the Director. Danny knew who Armsmaster was, of course.
Everyone knew who Armsmaster was.
"If you do as the Director says," the armoured hero advised him, "this will go a lot easier for all concerned."
Slowly, Danny regained his seat. He had been in strong negotiating positions before. This did not seem to be the case at the moment. He didn't have much hope for the future, either.
"Thank you," the Director said, carefully taking her own seat. Armsmaster took up a position beside her, arms folded. "Your daughter's name is Taylor Anne, yes?"
"Yes," he blurted. "Is she all right? All I've been told is that she's alive."
"She is indeed alive," Piggot confirmed. "She's injured, but the expectation is that she'll make a full recovery. We're giving her the very best of medical care."
Danny jumped up again. "Where is she? Can I see her? What happened? Was it that Swarm thing?"
The Director did not move; Armsmaster let his arms hang casually by his sides, but there was an air of tension about him. It was Piggot who spoke, biting the words off sharply. "Sit. Down."
Danny sat. He took a deep breath to calm himself, then another. "Please," he said softly. "Tell me what happened. Let me see her."
"She's in no danger, Mr Hebert," the Director told him, her voice quiet. "We'll take you to see her shortly. But first I need to ask you some questions."
He looked from her face to Armsmaster's, but neither one offered any sort of comfort. "Are these the sort of questions I'm going to need a lawyer for?"
Director Piggot raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you need a lawyer?"
There were many things that Danny Hebert wasn't sure about right then, but that wasn't one of them. "I'll answer your questions. But if I don't like any of them, that's when I get the lawyer."
"That's your right and privilege," the Director agreed. "Now, just for your information, Armsmaster has been working on an algorithm that detects if someone is lying in his presence. While the results are not yet admissible in court, it would be a very bad idea to lie to us. Is that understood?"
He couldn't help staring at Armsmaster. The man was a statue, his arms folded once more. Was it a bluff? Armsmaster was a Tinker, and Tinkers were renowned for building technology that was just plain bullshit. "... okay, I understand."
Piggot smiled very slightly. "Very well. What is your relationship with your daughter like?"
He blinked. That wasn't what he was expecting to hear. "Uh … she's my daughter? I love her. We, uh, haven't been as close since her mother died. That's kind of my fault, but we still talk, every now and again. Why?"
She ignored the question, her eyes never leaving his. "Does she have boyfriends, or girlfriends for that matter?"
"No boyfriends, no. As far as I know, she doesn't have many friends at all," he confessed. "Just Emma Barnes really. They've been best friends since … Christ, since first grade. Earlier. They used to sleep over at each others' places all the time."
The Director tilted her head slightly. "Used to?"
"Huh. Yeah." Danny realised what she was getting at. "I never realised it, but it's been years since Emma slept over. Funny how something like that gets away from you."
"I'll take your word for it. Now, Mr Hebert. What's your view on parental discipline?"
"You mean, did I ever discipline Taylor?" The Director didn't answer, but he saw the twitch in her expression. "I always left that to Anne-Rose. My dad had a real temper, you see. I got caught on the wrong side of it a few times. I can get a little hot under the collar myself, so I decided a long time ago that I'd never inflict that on my family. So Anne-Rose always used to handle the spanking when it was needed. She seems to have turned out okay, I guess."
Piggot nodded. "Very well. What -"
"Wait." Danny held both hands up. "Stop."
The Director looked at him, raising her eyebrows. "Yes?"
"I'm not a stupid man. This is about Taylor, and it's about parahuman matters. And it's about someone who's done something to her. Right?"
Armsmaster cleared his throat. "Mr Hebert. Taylor has bruises on her arms and legs that she didn't get today. Some of them are weeks old. Do you know how she got them?"
Danny couldn't help it. He raised his eyebrows and leaned forward. "Really? You don't know what happened at Winslow? What's
been happening at Winslow?"
Without his long experience at the negotiating table, Danny would never have picked the eye-twitch that said,
oh shit, there's something I don't know about going on here. The Director's face went blank after that one revealing tell. He would have bet everything he had that she was searching for a response that would get her the information she needed without revealing that she didn't know it.
"Well?" he asked smoothly, pushing just a little. "Or did you see 'teenage girl with single parent' and decide that was all the information you needed?"
Piggot's mouth tightened, as if she had just bitten into a lemon. "Mr Hebert -"
"January third," Armsmaster stated suddenly. "Your daughter was shut into her locker by a person or persons unknown. She then spent one week in the …" He paused.
"Psychiatric ward," Danny finished bitterly. "Then I took her home. She spent the next couple of weeks recovering. I sent her back to school just last week. The school
promised, on bended knee, that they'd look out for her." He stared at Armsmaster. "How did you … wait. Tinker. You can go online with that helmet, can't you?"
"Armsmaster's technology is not under discussion here, Mr Hebert," the Director broke in. "You implied that this was not the only incident."
Danny felt slow anger building within him. "It's the first one I was made aware of," he stated tightly. "Turns out that this was just the culmination of a long campaign of bullying. At least a year. Maybe more. Taylor's a smart girl. She could've gotten into Arcadia on a scholarship, but you'd never know it from her grades."
"And you didn't know about it?" asked Armsmaster, his tone faintly disbelieving.
"She never told me." The anger melted away, to be replaced by shame. Danny dropped his eyes to the table. "We used to talk about everything, until her mother died. Then we … basically fell apart.
I fell apart. It's been more than two years, but we're still not really back to normal."
Director Piggot's voice was almost gentle as she spoke. "Mr Hebert, I understand that this is difficult for you. But I just need to ask one more question."
"And then you take me to see her." He raised his eyes to meet hers.
"Yes." He wasn't quite sure what was going on behind her eyes, but she paused for a long moment. "Mr Hebert … since the locker, has your daughter been acting any differently than before?"
He had never felt less like laughing, but he snorted with something approaching humour. "Sorry. Seriously. I didn't see the locker, but from what I was told, it would have been a truly horrific experience. I'd be astonished if she
didn't show some changes in behaviour."
Whatever the Director thought she was going to get out of that exchange, he didn't know, but she didn't seem to have gotten it. In any case, it wasn't his problem. "So. Shall we go and see her now?"
Piggot nodded. "We will. In just a moment. I need to confer with Armsmaster about something."
He knew that he didn't have much choice in the matter. "Fine. Just don't take too long. For some reason, the word 'lawyer' keeps popping into my head."
As the door opened, he thought he saw a wince of pain on the Director's face.
<><>
Armsmaster
"Well?" The question was abrupt.
"Well, what?" he asked. "I can't tell if he's lying. The software's far from finished."
"Not
that," she snapped impatiently. "This locker incident. Could it have been the trigger event for the Hebert girl?"
"It
could have," he allowed cautiously. "But there's no guarantee. The incident today could just have easily been the final straw. He was entirely correct that a bad experience will -"
"Armsmaster."
He stopped talking, and looked at her. Her glare should have been able to melt steel. "Director?"
"I am entirely capable of understanding the lasting effects of undergoing an extremely traumatic experience," she reminded him coldly. "Which one do you think was her trigger event?"
"I think for the answer to that," he said honestly, "we'd have to ask her." He tilted his head. "If it turns out that today was
not her trigger event, that does put matters into a new light," he mused. "For one thing, she's had her powers for a month, and so doesn't have the excuse of not knowing she's got them."
"But if that's the case …" The Director paused. "It also means that she's quite capable of keeping them under control. So why did they break loose so catastrophically today?" She put up one finger to stop Armsmaster from answering. "I think you're right. We do need to talk to her."
"Doctor Lansing was talking about wiring her jaw," Armsmaster said.
Piggot shook her head. "Too slow. We need her coherent and talking clearly. There's got to be zero misunderstanding about what she says." A look of unhappiness crossed her face. "I'm going to need to call New Wave and ask them for a favour."
"What's the matter with that?" asked Armsmaster. "Panacea's a good kid. And her work is top of the range."
"Because Brandish is always so goddam
smug about it," growled Piggot.
"Well, she
is a lawyer," offered the armoured hero.
The Director shot him a suspicious look. "Was that a joke?"
"I'm sorry?" He kept his expression deadpan.
One corner of her mouth quirked up. "Hm. Well, you take Mr Hebert to the infirmary. I'll make the call to New Wave."
"Yes, ma'am."
<><>
Sophia Hess
Wards Base, PRT Building
At Around the Same Time
"Shadow Stalker, can I have a word?"
Sophia looked around from the TV with mild irritation. "I've already written up my report on the Swarm incident, if that's what you're looking for," she told Triumph. "I left it on the monitor desk."
"No, that's fine," he said. His voice was deep and resonant; she would have imagined that he was putting it on for effect, except that she knew he didn't speak any other way. "This is about another matter."
"Can it wait?" Sophia gestured at the TV. "I'm waiting for the news, to see if they've got any more footage of the Swarm."
"No, it can't," he stated flatly. "I need to speak with you now. This is about your civilian identity."
That got her attention; she sat up fast, and glared at him. "I never agreed to unmask -"
"You're not being unmasked." His voice was firm. At the far end of the sofa, Vista was staring at them both.
"What are you looking at, squirt?" Sophia gave her a glare; the younger girl looked away. Satisfied, Sophia turned to face Triumph again. "So what's this about?"
"It's about someone you know in your civilian identity, and it's
private," stressed Triumph. "Come on, let's go up on to the roof."
Now Sophia was puzzled.
Emma? What's happened with her? She had checked, after the fact, and found that the redhead hadn't been in the Swarm when it happened. "Okay, let's go."
For someone who used sound as a weapon, Triumph was very close-mouthed; he didn't say more than three words to her until they got up to the roof, and two of those were "after you" as they entered the lift.
Strolling out across the helipad, he glanced around and then turned to her. "You go to Winslow, right?"
"You know I do," she retorted. "What about it?"
"Do you know a girl called Taylor Hebert?"
The question jolted her to her heels.
Hebert? Is she even still alive? The Swarm had blown up not long after she'd run off with Sophia's patsies on her heels. Hundreds of people had died. Hebert was surely so much of a wimp that she was one of them. "Um … yeah. Kinda."
They can check this sort of shit. "I got a few classes with her."
Triumph nodded. "Good. What's your impression of her? Does she seem to be having trouble with anyone at Winslow?"
Sophia's brain went into overdrive.
Okay, they know something's up but not what. My name came up, maybe? No, can't be, or I'd be sitting in front of Miss Piggy. This is a nice friendly chat with the team leader. He honestly wants information. So be careful.
"Well, uh, she's a bit of a loner, really," she began cautiously. "Not really popular. A loser, actually. You know, a geek? Nobody really likes her. Sometimes she makes up stories of being picked on, but it's basically just her looking for attention. That's what I hear, anyway. I don't know her all that well."
"So who does she complain about the most?" He sounded like he was buying it.
"Oh, usually it's just random. Whoever's most popular that week, I guess." She tried to sound as if she didn't care.
"Right, right." He paused. "Uh, wasn't there an incident with her locker or something?"
"Oh, god,
that old story." She faked a chuckle. "That thing was blown
totally out of proportion. Do you know, by the time the story got told around the school, she'd been in there a whole hour, with toxic waste in there as well? Man, talk about your Chinese whispers."
"Oh." He sounded vaguely disappointed. "So it wasn't that bad?"
"Hardly." She snorted. "Like that shit's gonna fly on
my watch."
"Right, gotcha." He nodded, the lions-head helmet exaggerating the movement. "Thanks. That's all I really needed to know."
"No problem." She started walking back across the helipad with him. "So what's this all about anyway? What's she done?"
"Dunno." He hitched half a shrug. "I just got told by Armsmaster to ask you about her."
"Oh well, no skin off my nose." She stepped back into the lift with him, and didn't speak the whole way down.
Armsmaster's asking questions about Hebert? Okay, time to keep my eyes and ears open.
End of Part Two
