34

Chapter 34

A Darker Path

Part Thirty-Four: Action!

[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: This was a split chapter, so you may wish to check one back and make sure you've seen Part 33.]

San Francisco, 12:55 PDT

A Closed Session of the Elite

The room was darkened. Every participant in the meeting who was truly there wore a cloth mask that obscured their features, though they'd also donned their formal clothing for the occasion; there was no need to be barbaric about this, after all. Screens across the other side of the table, allowing those who were absent to sit in, showed similarly darkened silhouettes.

Voices spoke back and forth, with electronic alteration disguising familiar tones. Still, everyone there knew everyone else. Names were eschewed as a matter of course.

"What is the latest on the Brockton Bay situation?"

"The Gesellschaft attempted to smuggle drugs and weapons in by boat. Atropos predicted it the night before, then got on board while it was running silent and killed everyone on board. Including two capes, Night and Fog. She also blew up the boat and got off unscathed."

All present considered that. Night and Fog had been formidable, if unimaginative. On the other hand, Atropos' reputation as a stone-cold scary Thinker was growing by the day. She had intercepted their latest attempt to smuggle drugs into the city, accurately identified the Elite as the originators, and had the sheer gall to call them out on it.

The trouble was, nobody knew for a fact whether it was a bluff or if she could actually follow through on the threat. Few there were willing to gamble their lives against the cape who had single-handedly scoured every criminal cape out of what had once been a near-Mecca for crime on the east coast. Plans that had been drawn up for entry into the city in the next twelve to eighteen months were having to be put on hold.

"How, exactly, did she get onto the boat, does anybody know?" This was a new voice.

"The current theory is that she has somehow gained the ability to teleport, possibly via Tinkertech. She had at least one interaction with the Tinker known as Leet before his departure from the city, and there may have been others."

Silence fell again, this time more fraught than before. A Combat Thinker was bad enough; one who could also teleport? 'Bad' was nowhere near an adequate descriptor.

"This is troublesome. Is there any way Atropos can be co-opted? Bought off?"

"Bribed? Unlikely. She arranged for the Slaughterhouse money to go straight into a fund to revitalise the city. If nearly a hundred million dollars won't tempt her, nothing we can offer her will."

Several voices spoke at once, then paused. One carried on. "And if we offer to pay for the revitalisation, ourselves? Bring her into the fold that way?"

"While we could potentially gain entry in this way, it wouldn't be worth the effort."

"What?"

"Why not?"

There was a sigh, rendered into electronic hash. "In order to stay in Brockton Bay, we would have to work toward the improvement of the city at all times, while refraining from any actions that would gain us an unfair advantage. Our businesses would return a profit—the economy there is already showing signs of a rebound, even ahead of the rejuvenation effort—but it would be modest in comparison to those locations where we have total control. Also, she would almost certainly disallow any significant criminal activity, cape-related or otherwise."

"And if we … chose not to accept that limitation?"

"Her Thinker capability would likely warn her of treachery before we ever started acting against her. We've all seen how she acts against those she sees as enemies. As I've already made clear, it would not be worth the effort."

"So, what you are saying is that because of Atropos, Brockton Bay is off limits?" The voice, already made neutral by the electronic mask, managed to render the question into a masterpiece of ambiguity.

"That is what I am saying, yes."

"Unfortunate. There were many opportunities to be had there."

"Indeed."

One of the screens, heretofore dark and silent, flared to full life. As the glare backscatter illuminated the room by a few degrees, those closest to it leaned away from the light. Pictured on the screen was a mask featuring a sneering visage, framed by wildly styled hair and a single earring. Incongruously, the newcomer wore a business suit of the highest quality, albeit without a tie.

"That's not what you're saying." His voice, unaltered by electronic modulation, was distinctive and grating. "You're saying you want someone to go there and deal with your little cape-killing problem so you can waltz in and take over, heh." He shook his head in what seemed to be amused contempt.

"Atropos is a combat Thinker, Bastard Son." The warning tone was evident even through the modulation.

"Who uses guns and knives." The sneering tone was a match for the mask. "Anything she can do, my boys and girls can match, heh."

"You are not being ordered to do this. You will receive no support if you do go."

Behind the eyeholes of his mask, Bastard Son rolled his eyes. "Christ, she's really got you buffaloed, doesn't she? Well, I'm going to Brockton Bay, and I'll bring you back Atropos' head. And then you can walk on in nice and peaceful and set up business the way you want to, heh." His voice was savagely sarcastic. "You're welcome."

His screen went dark again; silence fell once more as the echoes from his presence faded from the room.

Eventually, someone spoke. "Do you think he can do it?"

"I place no bets."

Diamond Dreams Jewelry Store

Lenore

Right on thirty seconds by the clock on the wall, the door was roughly pushed open and a tall woman entered the store. Wearing a biker jacket and fingerless gloves over a t-shirt bearing the anarchy symbol in red, Ravager sported a cloth mask tied all the way around her head, covering the top half of her face, and carried a sawn-off double-barrelled shotgun. Even without Atropos' warning, Lenore would have recognised her; for a B-list villain, she had a distinctive look about her. The public perception of her could be summed up as do not approach, do not engage, do not antagonise.

Mouse Protector, of course, did all three, but that was probably because Ravager sought her out repeatedly. The independent hero was good enough to take her on and beat her, repeatedly. Lenore had no idea why Ravager kept coming back for more punishment. Some people couldn't bear to lose, apparently.

"This is a robbery!" announced the villain, somewhat superfluously, levelling the shotgun at Lenore's head. As she moved into the room, three men wearing balaclavas crowded in behind her. They carried pry-bars and cloth sacks, evidently ready to clear out the store's floor stock. "Do anything stupid and I will blow your fucking head off, you wimpy little bitch. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes," quavered Lenore, suddenly a lot less sure about this whole thing. Where was Atropos? Wasn't she supposed to be stepping in and saving the day?

"Good." There was more than a little bit of a growl to Ravager's tone. She was definitely in a bad mood. Moving up to where the security door led into the back of the shop, she prodded it with the shotgun barrel. "What's the code?"

Before Lenore could answer, the door opened from the inside and Atropos plucked the shotgun from Ravager's hand as though it had been offered and accepted. Then the butt-end of the shotgun smacked Ravager right between the eyes; stumbling backward, the villain sat down hard on the floor, apparently stunned.

"The code is, 'say please', dumbass." Atropos stepped out through the doorway and let it swing closed behind her. She gave Lenore a quick sideways nod—start recording—then turned her attention to the three henchmen. Interrupted in their perusal of which cases they were going to break into first, they stared back at her. "I've only got beef with your boss. You can stay and die, or you can fuck off right now." She gestured with the shotgun. "Your choice."

They may have been armed with more than pry-bars, but whatever firearms they had on them were not in their hands, leaving them at a fatal disadvantage when it came to someone with Atropos' known capabilities. Lenore supposed that if Ravager had been a well-respected employer, they may have made a stand. As it was, they looked at Atropos then at each other.

"Nope."

"Nope."

"Fuck, nope."

Seconds later, the door closed behind the last of them.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" squawked Ravager, pulling herself up by a display case. "You never leave Brockton Bay!"

"On the contrary, Ravisher, I've already made it clear that I'll travel if I consider it necessary." Atropos made the shotgun vanish into her long-coat with an ease that would've made a professional magician start taking notes. "Or was it Rabbithole? I've forgotten."

Filming the action, Lenore couldn't help but admire the red flush that spread along Ravager's jawline; not from embarrassment, but from anger. "It's Ravager, you fucktard!"

"Hmm, I dunno. Radisher, you fucktard seems like a complicated name to me," mused Atropos, fiddling with something in her hands; Lenore couldn't quite see what it was. "Maybe you should consider shortening it, Wrangler?"

"It's Ravager!" Screaming her name at the top of her lungs, Ravager pulled a wicked-looking knife from under her jacket and lunged at Atropos, apparently throwing all caution to the winds.

What happened next was almost too fast to catch, even though Lenore was watching; Ravager's knife was less than a foot from Atropos before she caught the villain's wrist with one hand and stepped aside. As Ravager went past, Atropos slapped her in the face with the other hand. Once more, Ravager ended up on the floor, this time face-first. Atropos stepped to the side and carefully placed the knife on a display case, out of the way.

"What the fuck? What did you do to me? What did you do to my eyes?" Ravager clawed her way to her feet, staring around blindly, and no wonder; over the eye-holes in her mask were now two palm-sized novelty-store googly-eyes, the 'pupils' rolling around crazily as Ravager stared wildly from side to side. Despite the still-apparent danger, Lenore had to work hard to hold back from bursting into laughter; it was just too funny.

Holding up a drawstring bag for the camera, Atropos leaned over briefly; Lenore heard marbles bouncing over the tiled floor. Ravager apparently didn't, because one stumbling step too far (googly eyes still bouncing around wildly) sent her feet flying into the air as she landed hard on her back. The pratfall was magnificent, and Lenore nearly dropped the phone as she choked with laughter.

"Ooh, you'll want to watch your footing there, Ravioli," Atropos advised, far too late. "Though I do think that's a good look for you." Almost casually, she took a can of actual ravioli from her pocket and pulled the top off.

"Fuck you! The name's Ravager! Ravager!" Clambering to her feet once more, Ravager wrenched at the googly-eyes that Atropos had somehow glued to her mask. In the end, she just ripped the mask off and flung it aside, revealing her uncovered face in all its fury … half a second before Atropos threw the contents of the can in her face.

"Nah, I think I prefer Ravioli. Suits you." Atropos stepped neatly aside from an enraged charge that ended in Ravager tripping and head-butting the wall; Lenore wasn't sure whether this was due to Atropos or the marbles that were still rolling around.

"I'm going to kill you!" the villain raged, dragging herself to her feet once again. Lenore had to admit, she herself would've just surrendered by now to get the humiliation over with. "I'm going to murder you so hard, you and the shop bitch there."

"Now see, that's just rude," Atropos complained, wandering closer. Again, she seemed to be fiddling with something that Lenore just couldn't see. "Swearing and threatening innocents? That's just terrible PR, Ravioli. You should know that by—"

"Shut the fuck up!" screamed Ravager. "It's RAVAGER!" Clearly consumed by her fury, she flung herself at her tormentor, fingers crooked to try to tear at Atropos like a wild animal. Atropos melted aside like a canny matador up against a particularly clumsy bull, and smacked Ravager in the face once more. Yet again, the marbles were the villain's undoing and she face-planted into the floor as if she'd planned it.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's Ravioli. I mean, you can clear it up right now if you want." Atropos leaned against a display case with her arms folded, the very image of patience.

This time when Ravager got up, Lenore lost it altogether. Firmly planted in the villain's mouth was a large bright pink novelty-store pacifier with a half-circle cut out of the top. Between that and the pasta still adhering here and there to the supervillain's face, she looked utterly and totally ridiculous. "MMMPH!" she enunciated loudly, though with zero chance of being understood. "Mmmph. Mmmmmmmmmph! MMMMMPH!"

"Okay, Ravioli it is, then," Atropos said, as though agreeing to whatever Ravager was saying. "You don't have to repeat yourself. I heard you the first time."

Despite being weak with laughter, Lenore worked to keep the phone pointed at the pair. Atropos had definitely saved her, so it was the least she could do to record the aftermath. Though she was honestly starting to wonder if Ravager wouldn't prefer death to this.

Boston, Massachusetts

Judge Peter Regan's Chambers

The phone on Peter's desk rang. Frowning at the name that showed up on the caller ID, he picked up the handset. "Hello, Dragon," he said. "How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon, Judge Regan." The Canadian hero's greeting was polite, which didn't reassure him in the slightest. Nobody who called out of the blue actually wanted to just pass the time. Dragon needed something from him, and he had an idea what it was. "I'm calling about the Mcabee case. It's on your docket, yes?"

"The Canary case? Yes, it is," he replied cautiously. "If you have access to evidence regarding the case, you should be speaking to the District Attorney or the defense lawyer, not me."

"Not evidence, exactly." Her tone was firm. "I've heard allegations that she's being treated unfairly. That precautions which have already been approved will prejudice the jury against her, and have no basis in fact. I've even heard you won't be giving her the right to speak for herself, which is worrying if true. Is it true?"

He sighed. This objection had been bound to come up, along with others, so he'd made sure he had the rebuttals ready to hand. "She's a known Master. We don't know that she doesn't have a Brute rating that could allow her to tear off her gag in court—"

"It occurs to me that you could put her in a soundproof room with a teletype link, and bypass the vocal aspects of her power altogether," Dragon interrupted. "In fact, I happen to know that you already have such facilities. Why aren't you allowing her to use them?"

It was time to put his foot down. "Dragon, this conversation is veering perilously close to a charge of attempted obstruction of justice. I do things my way in my courtroom, and unless you wanted to show up with a license to practise law—"

"Oh, this isn't coming from me. I got this all from someone else."

He paused. "What? Who?"

"You've heard of Atropos, have you not? Well, the other day we were in communication regarding another matter, and this particular case came up. She seems to be aware of aspects of the situation that are not public knowledge, such as the things I just brought up. Also, she mentioned secret meetings between you and the PRT where the outcome of the case had already been decided, and that Canary was due to be sent to the Birdcage so as to make an example of her. Being somewhat concerned about the matter, I asked her what she intended to do if the trial and sentencing went ahead as planned."

Peter Regan had indeed heard of Atropos. Sweat springing out on his brow despite the cool temperature in his chambers, he sat upright, grasping the phone tightly. "And what did she say?" It was all he could do to make the question sound normal.

"She said she could solve the matter either quietly or loudly. I asked her what 'loudly' meant. This is a direct quote: I go in there and bust her out. Bring her back to Brockton Bay, unfreeze her assets, and let it be known that she's under my protection. While they're jumping up and down over that, I locate the inevitable records that were made of these secret discussions and put them on the public record. Lawyers will be falling over themselves to represent her. The PRT takes a huge hit in reputation, people get demoted, the judge gets disbarred, and Chief Director Costa-Brown resigns quietly."

That was bad. That was really, really bad. Peter had his own records of the discussions in question, and although he could easily dispose of them, that didn't mean there weren't others elsewhere. Still, he had to know. "What … what is the quiet way?"

"Not as stringent, thank goodness. This is also a direct quote: I have a nice private chat with the judge one dark night. As a totally unrelated incidence, he recuses himself, with the result that a lot of this shit they're piling on her will just go away. Once she has access to her own funds and her own lawyer, she can fight her own battles."

Instinctively, he shook his head. The very last thing he wanted was to be woken up in the middle of the night with Atropos looming over him and asking questions that she might not like the answers to. 'She … she can't do this!" he protested weakly. "This is … this is absolutely obstruction of justice! I'll ask for protection, from the Triumvirate if I have to!"

"Oh, hadn't you heard?" The tone of Dragon's voice warned him ahead of time. This was going to be bad news. "Atropos has announced her intention to kill the Endbringers. Given her proven talent for murder, the Triumvirate has decided to go hands-off on her for the time being, to see if she can actually pull it off."

His eyes widened as he felt the lifeline slipping away. "They can't do that!" But even as he protested, he knew that they could. And considering the bloodbath she'd perpetrated on the Nine, there was no way merely human security could hold her back from her purpose.

"I guess that's between you and them. Anyway, I just thought I'd give you the heads-up. Good afternoon, Judge. Have a nice day." The call ended.

Peter sat for a long time staring at the phone before he put it down.

Flechette

Lily aimed her arbalest and shot the arrow across the street, nailing it into the stone façade of the building opposite. Exerting her power on the chain that trailed back from the arrow, she fused it into the parapet where she was, then stepped up onto the chain and fitted the purpose-built grooves in her boot-soles onto it. Her power made her boots almost frictionless, allowing her to slide the length of the chain in just seconds. Then she loaded another arrow and shot back at where she'd attached the chain in the first place. It severed the links; she grabbed the now-loose chain as she dropped, allowing it to slide through her gloves until she reached ground level.

Seconds later, a collapsible Frisbee hit the wall beside her and rebounded to land on the sidewalk. Mouse Protector appeared beside it, then leaned down to retrieve it and stow it in a pouch. Turning, she gave Flechette a nod. "Where's Jouster?"

"Still coming," Lily said. "His Mover power only works in short bursts. I told him I wouldn't go in until you arrived. Why does Atropos want us here, anyway?" She'd heard of the Brockton Bay villain, but had never expected to meet her, at least on the same side of a set of bars.

"Search me. She just said to invite you along." Mouse Protector looked up as a bright figure flashed overhead, then came down for a fast landing. "Oh, hey, Legend. Decided to get in on the fun, huh?"

Legend nodded, his normally cheerful expression currently absent. "I've heard a lot about Atropos, and I thought it was time we had a face-to-face. Also, Flechette and Jouster are my responsibility while they're in the field."

"Fair." Mouse Protector pointed down the street, toward the frontage of Diamond Dreams. "Looks like someone's … holy crap. Oh, God. I've got to get a photo of this."

The door had just opened and someone Lily vaguely recognised as Ravager stumbled out, her hands zip-tied behind her back. There were what looked like squares of ravioli stuck to her face and jacket, a large pink pacifier in her mouth, an equally large plastic clown nose covering her own nose (with oversized nostril-holes), and she had two huge googly eyes covering her real eyes. To add salt to the wound, someone had painted the word "RAVIOLI" across the back of her jacket, and put big streaks of green and pink in her hair.

"Oh. Oh, my goodness." Legend ventured closer, staring in fascinated disbelief. Lily followed on, making sure she didn't get in the way of Mouse Protector taking photos. "That is Ravager … right?"

"Not anymore." Atropos strolled out through the still-open door, then leaned back through for a moment. "Sorry about the mess!" she called out, then let the door close. "Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce: Ravioli, scourge of the New York restaurant scene." She tapped the villain on the shoulder. "Sit. Stay."

Obediently, Ravager sat down, right where she was. She appeared to be at a point where she just didn't care anymore, as far as Lily could tell.

"Atropos …" Legend seemed to be lost for words. "What …?"

"Ask MP," Atropos said briskly, shutting her phone off. "Once this goes online, along with the full video of the beatdown I just gave Ravioli here, do you think she'll have a shred of credibility left?"

"Holy shit." Mouse Protector held her hands over her mouth, but kept talking anyway. "Holy shit. You did all this to her … just to mess with her credibility?"

Atropos shrugged. "That's what I said I'd do, right? You didn't want her dead. She might want to be dead right now, but that's totally not my problem."

"But … but … why?" Legend frowned. "What did she ever do to you?"

"Tried to hire me to off MP here, actually." Atropos rested her elbow comfortably on Mouse Protector's shoulder. Mouse Protector didn't seem to notice, staring enthralled at her sworn enemy's discomfiture. "Here; this chat log should cover it." Pulling up an image on her phone, she showed it to Legend.

He read it through, his eyebrows rising higher with every line. When he got to the end, he stared at Ravager, then at Mouse Protector, then at Atropos. "A fundraising event?"

"Yup." Atropos stashed the phone away in one of her pockets. "Brockton Bay General Hospital, children's oncology ward. Look it up for yourself."

"Thank you. I will." He shook his head as he looked down at the thoroughly defeated Ravager … or, as Atropos had renamed her, Ravioli. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Mouse Protector snorted. "As if anyone needs a reminder for that."

"Okay, wait just one second." Lily held up her hands in a 'time-out' gesture. "Okay, I get that you did this to Rav … uh, Ravioli as a favour to Mouse Protector." She looked down the block toward where Jouster was jogging toward them. "But why me and Jouster? Why did you want us here too?"

Legend's attention sharpened. "What? You weren't on site already?"

"Nah, I asked for them. Mainly Flechette, actually." Atropos turned toward Lily. "No big deal. I know someone who's a big fan, is all. I was just wondering if I could get a selfie with you before I went back to Brockton Bay."

Legend cleared his throat. "Ah … about that …"

Atropos turned her head toward him, and Lily got the impression of a raised eyebrow. "Let me guess. Director Wilkins is still butt-hurt about how I shut down her attempt to figure out my secret identity, and she's issued an arrest warrant specifically for little old me, for the state of New York."

"Ah … yes." He seemed somewhat embarrassed at the notion. "Chief Director Costa-Brown filled me in on what actually happened that night, though she never explained how you got into the Director's office to begin with."

"A girl's gotta have her secrets." Lily could hear the grin in her voice. "Do you intend to try to arrest me?"

"I believe I will be dealing with Ravager for the next … say, five minutes." He gave her a firm stare. "After that, I'll be forced to notice your presence."

"Fair enough." She tilted her head toward the defeated villain. "Oh, and just in case you're wondering? Krazy Glue."

He followed her gaze. "Krazy Glue? Oh, the nose?"

"And the pacifier. And the googly eyes." The suggestion of a grin was back. "The body paint should wash straight off, though. And she might lose her eyebrows."

"I believe that will be the least of her problems." He shook his head again. "I suspect I should be glad you're not an official hero. The villains would be complaining non-stop."

"Meh, heroism's overrated. Anyway, can I get back to asking Flechette for a selfie?"

"Be my guest." He leaned over Ravager, possibly checking her bonds, as Atropos turned back to Lily.

"So, hey," she said. "Like I said, my friend is a big fan, and I think your powers are pretty cool too. Can I get you to sign a selfie with me?"

Jouster panted up alongside Flechette and came to a halt. "What's going on here?" he asked. "What did I miss? Wait, is that Atropos?"

"You missed nearly everything, hon," Mouse Protector said not unkindly, taking him aside. "And yes it is, but we've got it all under control. How about you go in there and get a statement from the shop assistant, and see if we can get access to the security footage? Because I absolutely want to see how she ended up like that."

"Um." Lily found herself put very much on the spot. Having a notorious mass murderer claim to be a fan of her work wasn't quite what she wanted out of life. On the other hand, Atropos was surprisingly chirpy and outgoing in person. Despite knowing that Atropos was an unrepentant killer, she found herself warming to the black-clad girl. "Wait, how am I going to sign a selfie?"

"I am so glad you asked." Atropos delved into one of the pockets of the long-coat she was wearing, and came up with an odd-looking camera.

"A Polaroid." Lily shook her head in wonder. "I didn't even know they made those anymore."

"We've had this one for years." Atropos held it up. "Is it okay, or no?"

Looking around for inspiration, Lily glanced at Mouse Protector, who gave her a nod. "Go on, why not? In fact, heck, can I get one with you too, 'Trops?"

Atropos sighed. "Only you would come up with a nickname like that. And you're the only one I'm going to allow to use it. But sure, let's get that selfie."

As she lined up with Mouse Protector and Atropos, who was angling the camera to catch Ravager in the shot as well, Lily shook her head.

This was not how I expected my day to go.

End of Part Thirty-Four