Many thanks to @dwood15, @Technetium43, @fabledFreeboota, and @Assembler for betareading.
Many thanks to @MugaSofer for fact checking.
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Saturday, April 23; six days since Lung's escape
Silent as mist, I crept from one rooftop to another, leaping from building to building. In the street below, Gallant moved down the sidewalk, seemingly alone. From its perch upon his finger, Araya cast a warm light all about him. The golden light played merrily upon the silver banding of his armor.
I looked into the night before us, searching.
Boom. Another explosion, to the west. I looked to my left at the flash of blue to see a layer of frost rapidly spreading up the walls of a small office building. The ice crept upward like the onset of winter in microcosm, cracking stone and breaking glass.
"What was that?" Gallant's voice emerged from my radio. Far below, he had stopped and was looking over in the direction of the explosion.
"Just a show of force. Looks like no one was in there," Vista reassured him from the console.
He sighed. "I really hate this. Being on edge all the time, always worried where she'll strike next."
"That's the idea, Gallant," I said.
The bombings had slowed in the several days since my release from confinement, especially during the daylight hours. Bakuda was getting comfortable, doing no more than remind the city who ruled it. This suited us well. Comfort was already breeding complacency, and the complacent monarch would be all the easier to unseat.
I looked back down into the long trough of road, seeking the circle of light where Gallant walked, then looking ahead into the darkness of the street.
My eyes narrowed slightly, squinting. There were three men creeping out from an alleyway, a block and a half down.
"Gallant," I murmured into the radio. "Three hostiles, dead ahead." I reached with my gaze and studied their features. "ABB, as far as I can tell."
"Sure they're up to no good?"
"Unless civilians have a habit of carrying automatic weapons." In fact, only one had an assault rifle—the other two carried pistols—but that was still cause for concern. I unslung Belthronding from my back, the deep black yew of the limbs gleaming in the dim starlight, and nocked an arrow without bringing it to my eye. "We should follow at a distance, for now. Console?"
"Agreed," said Vista, her clear voice short and businesslike. "Keep them in your sights, Annatar. They may lead you to a cape."
I leapt across another alleyway without a sound.
"We'll keep you posted," Gallant promised.
The men continued down the road, sticking to the dark between streetlamps and staying beneath awnings and in the shadows of buildings. They moved as men wishing not to be seen, unaware that they had already been found, unaware that they were already pinned beneath my gaze as moths in a collection.
We were just northwest of downtown, in the neighborhoods which, in another city, might have become upscale apartments and condominiums. In the wreck which was Brockton Bay, however, they were hollow shells, four or five stories tall, abandoned by all but the desperate. This was the no-man's-land between the Empire's territory downtown and the ABB's holdings in the Dock's—or it had been, until the ABB began its recent push. On the south side, it was a place where the Empire pushed its undesirables, its outcasts. In short, blacks, Asians, and everyone else who did not match their view of the 'Übermensch.' On the north, it was prime recruiting ground for the ABB, who could harvest any Asian civilians pushed into this part of the city by the Empire.
The whole affair was almost as disgusting as it was pitiful.
The men halted, just outside the light of a streetlamp, in the shadow of an awning on a relatively major intersection. In better days, this street corner would have been crossed by cars and pedestrians with some regularity, even at this time of night. With Bakuda at large, however, all the streets were empty after dark.
"They've stopped," I reported. "They're…waiting, I think. Shall I move in?"
"Yes," Vista said. "Get a better view, if you can."
I leapt across another divide, landing on a fire escape, and then clambered up the outside of it to reach the higher roof, before creeping forward again.
The men were silent, staring out into the night with the wary unease of the hunted. Their eyes darted to and fro, seeking any sign of something amiss in the night. Every so often, one would even glance up, but even they failed to see me, cloaked as I was by Nenya.
"They're on guard," I warned Gallant. "Don't come too close. They're at the big intersection with—" I glanced at the street sign "—Cobbler's."
"Understood, Annatar," said Gallant softly. "I'll keep out of sight."
I brought Belthronding up slightly, ready to fire it at a moment's notice, and waited as Gallant slowly moved forward, toward the three men. In a few moments, he was in the shadow of an alcove, perhaps a hundred and fifty feet from them.
"I'm ready," he said, voice soft in my ear. "How do you want to do this?"
I ran my tongue over my teeth thoughtfully before replying. "Draw their attention and their fire on my mark. I'll disable their cover and weapons."
"Got it. Waiting for your word."
I brought my hand away from my ear, took a deep breath, and leapt off the roof and into the alley. I dropped, one story after another, landing in a low crouch on the balls of my feet with only the faintest
clack of metal on stone.
I slipped into the cover of a dumpster. There I slung Belthronding back over my shoulder and unhooked the Jewelry Box from my lower back.
"
Edro a adlenc."
I covered the opening box with one hand to hide the escaping light as I quickly set the Box across my knee and slipped Nenya off with the other. On came Narya and the Box was shut again.
I slung it back, withdrew Belthronding, and put my hand back to my ear. "Ready when you are, Gallant."
There was the familiar, distinctive sound of one of Gallant's blasts from the street as my only answer. It wasn't easy to describe, a sort of ringing, hissing blast. It was answered by shouts, the sound of shattering glass, and gunfire.
I took a deep breath, nocked an arrow to my bow, and dove out into the street.
Gallant had filled the avenue with a golden-orange light, and was currently ducking into a doorway as the three men fired on his position with their guns. They had taken cover inside a building and were shooting out through broken windows.
That would not protect them. I loosed one arrow into the men's cover, then palmed the detonator Kid Win had given me, which was hooked upon my belt.
The low wall behind which the men hid exploded into bright light, flaring into many colors. Red, blue, white, and green lit up the night like fireworks blazing forth with a booming like drums and a blast like war-horns.
The men stumbled, jumping away from their failing cover with oaths. I nocked another arrow to Belthronding and again took aim, but was interrupted by an orb of light, silvery-white as mithril, which burst from Gallant and impacted one of the three. He stumbled, dropping his gun.
I fired Belthronding twice. Each arrow struck true, knocking the pistols out of the men's hands and sending them skidding down the street with a clatter. They stared after the weapons for a moment, then looked over at me. I gave them a faint smile.
Then they did something I did not expect. With a desperate, wordless cry, the two men charged me.
I withdrew another arrow and nocked it. "Surrender," I said.
They didn't stop.
I let fly. One arrow landed in the first man's chest; the second in his partner's shoulder. The tranquilizer tips deployed, and both men went down feet from me. The third man, the one Gallant had blasted, was standing in the middle of the destroyed room, looking around in blank confusion.
I leapt back and held out a hand to signal Gallant to stay away. "Implanted bombs," I warned him. "These two wouldn't have charged if they could surrender."
"Shit," he said. "What do we do?"
I didn't answer for a moment. The bombs weren't going off.
"Proximity," I said. "I'd guess, at least. Unconsciousness isn't setting them off, but someone coming within a couple feet of them probably would.
Gallant made a low growling sound. The light which filled the street brightened and flared in response to his fury. "So, what, we just leave them here?"
"We have no choice," I said. Then I looked up at the third man. "Let him off of your power," I said. "He might not be implanted. Wait a moment." I quickly slung Belthronding and replaced Narya with Vilya. "All right, go."
Gallant made a dismissive gesture with his left hand, Araya burning on his finger. The man's eyes cleared and he blinked, then glared. His weapon rose, but Belthronding was already up and the point of an arrow was trained on his face.
"Don't," I said.
"These two are implanted with Bakuda's bombs, aren't they?" Gallant asked the man, nodding at the two men on the ground.
The man spat at Gallant without answering. My teammate's fists clenched.
"Answer," he commanded, his voice booming.
"Yeah," said the guy in a nasal voice.
"Is there a trigger, or are they manually activated?"
"Why should I tell you?"
An arrow whizzed inches from his face. "Because it's better than the alternative." I met his eyes.
His face paled. "No," he said. "Manually activated."
I studied his face, tracing every line of stress and fear.
"You have an implanted bomb, too?"
"Yes."
"And it's also manual?"
"They're all manual—as far as I know. I swear."
I allowed Vilya to help me as I searched his face. After a moment, I nodded.
"He's telling the truth," I told Gallant. "We'll need to take them to the reinforced cells in the Rig, though, just in case."
"Agreed. Vista, call for a pickup," he said, even as he blasted the guy with another burst of confusion. "We're bringing in prisoners."
-x-x-x-
"How was patrol?" Sophia asked as I came in, her feet up on a table.
"Not bad," I said. "Captured three ABB guys; Gallant's giving the report to Piggot now. Used his new powers to bring them in."
Gallant's powers, like all the Wards', had grown with his connection to Araya. Where before his blasts could only cause a very short-term change in a person's emotions, now he could so saturate a person with the feeling of his choice that they might remain in that headspace for hours on end, unless they were strong enough of will to resist and break free. He had blasted the man with confusion—until he was released or freed himself, the goon could do little more than shake his head and blink.
"Nice," Sophia said. "With luck, he'll be able to tell us what Lung's doing. I mean, unless their plan is literally just 'bomb city, repeat as necessary.'"
I chuckled, slipping Belthronding off my shoulder and hanging it on the rack beside the elevator. Though the fluorescent lights provided much more illumination than had the starlight outside, the yew of the limbs and the leather of the guard still gleamed black as pitch. Then I slipped off my helmet and shook out my long hair, which had already grown back in the wake of my battle with Lung. "Speaking of new powers, how are yours treating you?"
"Fine," she said. There was a pause. "Well, no, they're great. They make my old powers look weak. It's fantastic."
"You don't sound so enthusiastic," I said, turning back to her.
She turned away. "Cenya is… hard, sometimes. I keep seeing things differently. Seeing people—seeing
myself—differently."
I nodded. "You can't lie to yourself anymore, Ring-Bearer," I said gently.
She twitched slightly. "I've noticed," she said, and her voice was faintly strangled, as though she spoke through a lump in her throat.
I sighed and came forward, laying a gauntleted hand on her shoulder. "I told you," I said. "I intended to help you become the hero you want to be. Did you think it would be easy?"
"I did," she admitted faintly. "Shows what I know, huh?"
I squeezed gently. "You're learning," I comforted. "You'll get there one day."
"I—I hope so."
The elevator opened. I released Sophia and glanced over.
It was Dean. He took off his helmet and stuck it under one arm, running his fingers through his hair to push it out of his eyes. "Piggot tells me the PRT's interrogating the conscious prisoner now," he announced. "Missy's still at the console?"
"Yeah," Sophia replied. "I'm relieving her in a few minutes."
"I'll go hang out with her until then," Dean said, setting his helmet on the coffee table and crossing the room, entering the console room off of the lounge.
Sophia watched him leave, an odd look on her face.
"Something wrong?" I asked her.
"No," she said slowly. "No. Nothing."
I considered her for a moment, then shrugged. "You were patrolling with Sam, right?"
"Yeah," she confirmed. "He's gone to bed."
"But you've still got console duty?"
"With Bakuda rampaging, we're all pulling double shifts," she said with a sigh. "At least I got to sleep in. A bit of coffee and I'll be fine. Do you have another shift tonight?"
"Not out," I said. "I'm just going to be in here tinkering for a couple of hours." I was hoping to finish the Black Arrow, which would be a good addition to Belthronding.
Sophia nodded. "Well, if you get bored, feel free to come bother me. Bring coffee."
I chuckled. "I'll do that."
At that moment, there was a blaring from the computer, and the screen flashed yellow—someone other than a Ward was coming down the elevator. Sophia reached down and picked up her mask, while I turned and grabbed my helmet, picking it up from the rack and slipping it back on my head, feeding my hair back out through the hole in the back.
The door opened. It was Miss Militia. I had spoken to her once or twice, but we hadn't conversed more than passing small talk. What little of her face I could see under her mask looked grim.
"Annatar," she said. "Where is Gallant?"
"With Vista, at the console," I said. "What's up?"
"His prisoner has given us information," she said. "You were lucky—he was the leader of his little cadre, and was privy to some valuable information. The ABB's leadership has been invited to a meeting tomorrow—at Somer's Rock."
Sophia stood up. "A villain meeting?"
"Yes," said Miss Militia. "The ABB are apparently invited, but Lung does not intend to go. I assume you can both guess the topic."
I brought my hands together and cracked my knuckles. "So?" I asked. "What are we doing about it—send a representative?"
"Possibly, if there is a chance of proper cooperation, especially if Bakuda is declared an A-class threat. At the very least, we should send in surveillance," said Miss Militia. "Armsmaster and Piggot will discuss plans in the morning, however. For now, I need you to call the other Wards on patrol back, and get some sleep. We may be acting tomorrow."
I glanced at Sophia. She nodded.
"I'll relieve Vista and do it," she said. "You get your tinkering done."
"Thanks."
As I left for the workshop, I found a faint smile spreading across my face. Anticipation tingled at the tips of my fingers.
With any luck, the campaign against Bakuda would begin tomorrow.
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