Crush in full armor drove the PRT cruiser down the long rambling streets of Brokton Bay’s Dock District. Derelict housing, half finished public transportation projects and crumbling store fronts were among the many sights to take in north of the board walk. The Docks were something a person could go their entire lives without seeing. Crush wasn’t sightseeing though. He was on patrol, thankfully. He wasn’t alone either, unfortunately. His partner for tonight sat quietly next to him, concerning herself with paying attention to their surroundings, dutifully on the look out for crime or people in distress. She was a teenager about a year younger than Crush, dressed in white armor. She was Lucky Dip.

This was the first patrol Crush had been on since the team had disobeyed orders to investigate Shadow-Stalker and Reine’s disappearance. He shouldn’t have been on patrol again this soon. Piggy had threatened to suspend them for the rest of the month on top of the hour-long reaming they’d gotten from Maester Red about proper procedure and staying in their lane. 

Crush felt a little guilty for denying the Protectorate’s best investigator the opportunity to inspect an unspoiled crime scene. Only a little guilty, because Power-Broker innocently asking what crimes Maester Red had actually solved was the highlight of Crush’s year. 

The stupidity of that question had left Maester Red sputtering. Power-Broker’s naivete was something to behold, everyone knew Maester Red was easily among the top 5 heroes in the world and an accomplished detective with several hundred solved cases, which Crush didn’t know about before Red repeated it several times. 

Maester Red, pushed over the edge by Power-Broker’s obvious obstinance, insisted Ms. Piggot increase their suspension until the New Year. That suggestion hadn’t been funny. Piggy only replied she’d take it under advisement. The look on her face had said, “we can’t actually spare them that long.” But Crush knew Maester Red had friends in high places, if Power-Broker really had pissed him off that much, Piggy would probably have to ground them until January.

Crush had left the meeting mad at poor Power-Broker, everyone had, even Cyberpunk. Crush decided to sleep off his annoyance to avoid taking it out on the poor kid. The next morning Crush found out what their punishment would be, it wasn’t that bad all things considered.

They got just a week’s suspension. A veritable slap on the wrist. Still, it had been the longest week of Crush’s life. Crush let his thought vanish as the monotony of patrol washed over him.

Lucky Dip shifted uncomfortably in her chair as the cruiser rumbled into the warehouse district. He felt her breath nervously. She was treating her breath like it was the loudest most annoying thing in the world and did her best to restrain it, which ironically only made it louder and more annoying. 

Maya was notoriously shy among the Wards, but the constant shifting on her part was getting ridiculous. Crush shook his head, was he intimidating? True they hadn’t said two words to each other since leaving HQ, but that was because Crush was antagonistic to the idea of small talk. Not because he had anything against Lucky Dip in particular.

To be fair to Maya, her discomfort was somewhat justified. This was the first time the two had been paired up for patrol. She usually went with Web-Mistress, Reine, or Vista. The girls liked to pair up with each other, it gave the tabloids less gossip. Today was just a bad day for her to be on duty. Web-Mistress had the day off, Reine (and Shadow-Stalker for that matter) were missing, and Vista, well she’d been on psych-leave since before Crush joined the team. Poor girl had watched Gallant die.

That had left Crush, Cyberpunk, Omni and Power-Broker as Lucky’s potential patrol partners. Cyberpunk had Power-Broker duty tonight (Crush still needed to apologize for his attitude after Red’s lecture) and Omni was with the lab techs testing a new type of nanite that would target Brutes. So, lucky Lucky Dip, she got stuck with Crush, someone as disinterested in socialization as she was fearful of it.

Though, from the way Lucky was shifting around, silence might be harder on her than conversation. Crush didn’t like small talk as a rule, but there was an obvious subject to give the girl a break from their uncomfortable silence. Besides, there was a red light coming up.

“What did you do during the suspension?” Crush asked as he pulled the cruiser to a stop at an intersection’s gleaming stoplight, the red light painted the interior cruiser a brilliant maroon. They were alone on the road, this district was getting quieter and quieter every day and they weren’t in a part that saw much traffic nowadays, foot or otherwise. 

Lucky nearly jumped at the sudden social activity. She opened her mouth once to immediately answer, then shut it just as quickly. The motion reminded Crush of a fish. After several moments impersonating a guppy, she decided to give herself more time to think.

“What about you?”

Crush was disinclined to allow her the out, “I asked first.”

“And I don’t have the words yet.” She pleaded.

Crush smiled. The red light beat down on his hands, it seemed like they were covered in blood. “Not much, read reports, train--”

“Thrilling.” She said with a tone that could be mistaken as sincerity.

Crush laughed. “You asked!”

“Didn’t spend time with family?”

“Only real family I’ve got moved to Nebraska after I, uh…” Crush hesitated.

“After you what?”

“Triggered.”

Lucky clamped her mouth shut. She didn’t ask details, no parahuman ever did. Talking about a trigger event was less a taboo and more not wanting to remind yourself about what had been done to you. “I’m sorry.” 

Crush shook his head, “don’t be, it was a lifetime ago…. I’ve been meaning to visit eventually, my sister I mean. If only to make sure she’s taking care of herself, but right now I want to focus on work.”

“I get that.” Lucky Dip said quietly.

There was a brief silence as Crush wondered when this light would ever change, “but don’t think you’re off the hook, c’mon, spill.”

Lucky Dip looked away from Crush, “same as you I guess. Just wanted to take the time to focus.”

Crush expected to feel the telltale signs of lying at that answer. Accelerated heart rate, shifting posture, but he didn’t. Crush knew what it took for him to trigger and could only assume she was in the same boat as him. He didn’t want to talk about his circumstances, but it felt like she did. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Lucky Dip frowned into the window, then turned towards Crush and began “I--”

A red jaguar screeched around their cruiser, ignoring the still red light, it sped off into the night towards the Boardwalk.

“What the--” Lucky began, but Crush was firing up the roof and putting the cruiser in gear before she could finish her thought. With a solid thump, Crush slammed his foot down on the gas. The cruiser burned rubber for a half a heartbeat, then rocketed into the night.

“Crush!” Lucky Dip began indignantly as the sudden acceleration drove her into the passenger seat. “We’re not traffic cops!”

“Eyes on Shadow-Stalker!” Crush responded.

Lucky looked towards the speeding car. The red jaguar was driving erratically, swerving like a blind drunk trying to make it to the toilet at a party. Holding a hand to her eye, she summoned her infra-scope, sure enough, Crush was right. There in the passenger’s seat was the unmistakable silhouette of Sophia CN Shadow Stalker, dressed in her ‘hero’ costume, currently stabbing the driver to death. 

Apparently Crush saw the stabbing too, though Lucky wasn’t positive how. He just kept whispering, “shit, shit, shit!”

“What is she doing?!” Lucky shouted, then, Shadow Stalker drew her arm back one last time. Time slowed for Lucky. Her finger twitched around her scope, she could take her out right now, manifest a .50 cal, dome the bitch, save the day. She’d never liked Sophia anyway. 

Her left eye glanced at Crush, hand outstretched, apparently trying to grab Sophia in the car. It wouldn’t be necessary and even if it were, she wouldn’t risk her cover for some civilian.

Crush’s power closed around Shadow Stalker. She froze mid stab. Crush closed his fist and began to squeeze Sophia’s throat, hoping to choke her out. Then her victim fainted. 

The jaguar, stripped of its pilot, veered off the road, jumped the curb at 92mph and began to flip. Crush, in a blind panic, seized the car, unintentionally letting go of Sophia. As the car stopped mid-flip, Shadow-Stalker seized upon his distraction to assume her mist form and floated out the jaguar’s door.

Crush willed the jaguar to hang in mid-air as he slammed on the cruiser’s brakes. The cruiser skid to a stop as Crush worked to spin the jaguar upright. 

Lucky grabbed the car’s radio and poured her voice into the receiver. “This is Cruiser-115, 10-33! We’re at 33rd and Ward, wounded NC, need a bus forthwith!”

The cruiser just came to a stop as Lucky Dip undid her seatbelt and rolled out her door. She came to a knee, spotted Sophia’s wraith-like form floating down the street, then held her hands as if she were aiming a rifle.

Crush finished setting the jaguar down as the garbled response came over the radio. “10-4.”

A flash of light and Lucky Dip was holding her arc caster. She sighted in Shadow-Stalker, a floating cloud of darkness, took a breath, then pulled the trigger. A flash of electricity streamed from the silver rifle through the floating mist. An inhuman scream ripped from Shadow-Stalker’s throat and she fell in her corporeal form to the ground, unconscious.

Crush dashed out of the cruiser, racing for the jaguar. Ripping the driver’s door off its hinges, Crush saw the  victim. A middle aged man with an expensive suit and a too obvious toupee. He was unconscious still breathing but it was shallow and labored. Crush put a hand on the man’s chest, he poured his senses into him.

The man had a bevy of bleeding wounds, but the immediate issue was a wound in his right side where the knife had gone straight into the lung.  Collapsed lung, shit. Crush reached into his belt, pulled out his first aid kit, emptied the contents into the air with his power until he found his syringe. Tearing out the syringe’s plunger, Crush stabbed the needle into the right of the victim’s torso, just between the man’s lower ribs.

Air rushed out through the syringe’s empty barrel and the man almost immediately started breathing easier. Crush secured the man with his power before exiting the vehicle again, only to behold Lucky Dip standing over the downed Shadow Stalker, arc caster at the ready.

“Is he alive?” Lucky asked as Crush approached.

“He’ll keep. Sophia?”

“Unconscious, but I’ve got her.”

“Good. I’ll call it in--” a bullet pierced the edge of his awareness. On reflex Crush’s power seized the bullet, it came to stop mere centimeters from Lucky Dip’s neck.

Crush didn’t have time to yell down before the rifle’s report reached Lucky Dip’s ears, dropping to a knee she spun towards the source of the gun shot. A scope appeared on her arc caster even as her knee hit asphalt. 

Another bullet raced towards her, it stopped in mid-air as Crush’s power enclosed it. He scanned warehouse roofs, he didn’t see a muzzle flash. Lucky apparently did. She fired. An arc of electricity rushed through the air and blew out the window of a brick building 200 feet away. 

“Missed!” Lucky shouted.

Crush tensed, ready to intercept more bullets.

None came.

“I don’t see him.” Lucky reported, still scanning the building with her scope. “Crush?”

“Nothing.” He reported, still alert, still ready. But his senses were cast outwards, such that he almost didn’t notice something occurring a mere 10 feet away. A tingle ran up Crush’s spine as his senses alerted him to movement next to Lucky. Crush spun to face Shadow-Stalker, only to see barren ground. 

“Fuck!” Crush screamed.

Lucky, alarmed at the exclamation, looked to her left. Her eyes met barren asphalt where moments ago Shadow-Stalker lay unconscious. 

“Where--” Lucky began, scanning their surroundings, sometimes through the scope, sometimes with her naked eye, both efforts were fruitless. Crush closed his eyes, nothing. He felt himself, he felt Lucky, he could even feel the old victim breathing shallowly in the jaguar. No Shadow-Stalker, not even a trace. 

Did she phase through the ground? Crush thought she was too scared to do that. Scared she’d be stuck under a quadrillion tons of earth never to be seen again. Yet, it was the only explanation Crush could think of for her sudden disappearance.

The radio hummed to life again. “This is 313, 10-17.” Crush could hear the distant whine of sirens even as the frustration of losing the only witness to the events of a week ago whipped a storm inside him.

#

Shadow-Stalker sat in the corner of a concrete storage unit, head hung, almost as if she were asleep. The garage door of the storage unit opened and Mastermind walked in. She was on her phone. “But you’re okay?”

“… all right, be safe John and I’m sorry I called, I worry y’know?”

Truth.

“Never.”

Truth.

“If you want me to stop worrying move to grandma’s with me.” 

Lie. ‘I know! Thank you!’

She leaned against the wall next to Shadow-Stalker, the violent vigilante made no move or acknowledgment of her arrival.

“Yeah, yeah... no it’s not flat John, it’s called the Sand Hills for a reason.”

Truth. ‘Please stop when I’m the one talking I beg you.’

“Well no, no-one our age but do you actually give a fuck?”

Truth? ‘Guess I wouldn’t know, fair.’

“They’re dead John, they extra don’t give a fuck.”

Truth.

“Fine mom, I’ll watch the language.”

Truth.

“Just visit me when you get the chance okay?”

Mastermind snorted as she laid a hand on top of Sophia’s motionless head. “Then come in the summer you wuss.”

“Yes there’s a summer, a whole two weeks of it.”

Lie.

“Love you too, talk to you later.”

Truth.

Joan sighed as she put her phone away. She removed her hand from the top of Shadow-Stalker’s head and spoke. “Stand.”

Shadow-Stalker stood.

“Walk 10 paces.”

Shadow-Stalker walked forward 10 paces.

“Crouch.”

She crouched.

“Jump.”

She jumped.

“Mist.”

Shadow-Stalker assumed her wraith-like form and floated motionless.

“End mist.” Mastermind ordered, satisfied she wasn’t too damaged. Sophia resumed her solid state.

“Return to base, do not be seen.” Shadow-Stalker turned and left the storage unit. 

Joan sighed, letting herself fall to the concrete floor. Tonight had been harrowing. She’d found out John’s patrol had been targeted from her sources at the PRT. They hadn’t given the news priority because they didn’t know about her connection to Crush. A necessary precaution, but one that made Joan clench hard enough to crush diamonds listening to that report. She only unclenched when she learned neither of the Wards were hurt.

If the ‘assassination’ mission Joan had set Shadow-Stalker on had resulted in her brother’s death… Mastermind had no idea what she would’ve done. Probably destroy the world for being too stupid to follow her plans. For now she’d insisted that her PRT contacts get her the Ward patrol assignments for the immediate future. 

She hadn’t had an immediate justification for wanting the patrol roster so she’d played the mysterious “there are forces at work here,” angle to obfuscate her reasons. Hopefully she played it well enough that none of her contacts suspected. She thought she had, but the actress always believes she nails the role doesn’t she?

Joan closed her eyes. Overall, tonight was a good night. Councilman Anderson would have to take a leave of absence and Joan’s benign rezoning motion, that he had been doggedly opposed to, would likely pass. Well, not her’s, that’d be city Councilwoman Jackson’s rezoning motion. Joan’s lobbyists just sponsored it… mostly because she was poised to make a few dozen million profit off of selling the now commercial real estate.

Joan steepled her fingers. There was the issue of the shooter, but he was only targeting Lucky Dip according to Joan’s PRT contacts, so maybe John wasn’t in any danger? Joan frowned. Uncertainty reared its ugly head for the first time in a while. She wasn’t sure whether this attack warranted personally looking into or not. John’s life had been put in danger, but he wasn’t directly targeted. She decided to keep a finger on PRT’s investigation for now, see what they turned up.  

Her watch beeped at her. Joan checked it, it was time for the check-in. Joan retrieved her phone and dialed up a by-now familiar number. “Mr. Theseus? Congratulations. She functions perfectly.”

Truth.

“Yes, she’s on her way.”

Truth.

“No, news should hit in the morning, you’ll have deniability.”

Truth.

“Well of course.”

Lie.

“Before I forget,”

Lie

“I have some changes I’d like made before you send her back.”

Truth.

“...I won’t answer that.”

Truth.

“Because that information would put your life in danger.”

Truth.

“No, of course not. I’m just trying to spare you some trouble.”

Truth.

“My competitors.”

Truth?