202 198 Interlude: ...And Brace 2 Electric Boogaloo
Columbus, Ohio, February 28th, 18:00.
"It's not like I'm asking you to fight them, Bonnie, you don't even have to wait for the fighting to start so you can use it as a distraction to get what I want. You can do that for me Bonnie, can't you?"
James, reclining behind his large office desk, hears Bonnie sucking in a breath from the other end of the phone, psyching herself up, and he only really feels annoyed by it.
The fact that he even has to waste his time convincing her is irritating, and also why he doesn't like working with people who do not work for him these days.
But it'll be fine in the end. He's made use of his 'deal' with Night Raid to have Three spend time with them. She's pretty confident that Smoker will capitulate soon enough, and that we can use him to convince Bonnie and Clyde to join his Dollars, subordinate organisations that work for him, but aren't Hearts.
When that happens, he won't have to worry about her being so reticent. She'll just do what he says, when he says.
"O-okay. I mean, yes, I can do it." Bonnie confirms, making James roll his eyes.
"Good," James says as he notices the door to his office open, Jack coming inside with a folder in hand. He puts a finger up in the air when she reaches his desk, and she obediently stops and waits silently, glancing to the side where Riley is working in the lab. "I'll have Eight call you three minutes before the operation starts."
Hanging up the call without waiting for confirmation, James puts his phone down neatly, lining the edges of the phone up to be parallel to his desk.
He doesn't know when exactly he developed this minor OCD, but he's pretty sure it's an exotic side-effect of one of his drugs, he just doesn't know which one yet, which means he needs more people to test and sample what he has, so as to avoid bringing a drug with such side-effects onto the market and harming his reputation.
Red Hearts has swiftly become the biggest drug empire in the country, and he's made more than enough deals with various other distributers to supply his own Tinker made drugs, mainly psychedelics.
Shaking his head clear of needless thoughts, James acknowledges his Jack with a nod. "What is it?"
Nodding her head and falling into an entirely unnecessary military stance, Jack begins her report. "Ten is almost ready to move for Brockton Bay with his Chapter. He should be free to leave at anytime two days from now. Once he finishes taking control of that city, it should be easy to extend our influence through New Jersey and Delaware, then the only thing stopping us from extending to the Northern border at the coast will be New York."
Ah yes, Brockton Bay. James would have preferred to send a lower number, but with that 'Lung' there, he can't take chances with anyone weaker than Ten. At the very least, setting up shouldn't be too hard as, if he recalls correctly, there should be a gang there already that is perfect for a take over.
The Archer's Bridge Merchants. A gang of lowlifes and druggies. With his superior product and conduct, it should be a breeze for Ten to turn them into another branch of his Dollars.
Extending North to Maine is a problem though. He knows that Lusia has some kind of relationship with Uppercrust in New York, so he doesn't want to step on his toes and have Lusia come here to annoy him because of it.
Right as James opens his mouth to respond to Jack and give her her next set of instructions, he is interrupted by the ringing of a phone. Of two phones.
Turning away, James looks over to Riley, who is also looking up from her microscope, where she's doing something with a petri dish, at him.
"I'll put mine on speaker," James says, making Riley nod and hop over to the office side of the room, declining the call on her phone with curiosity in her eyes.
"Who is this?" He asks, the number having been unknown.
"It's No Face," John answers, giving his Clown name as he knows that James is often with others, "can Chibi hear me?"
"Yes, Jack and Queen too, though the latter isn't paying attention." As if offended by the truth of his words, a tendril of scarlet red energy flicks out from Jack's arm and smacks Queen upside the head, making her exclaim in surprise. "Never mind, they're both listening. What is it, John?"
"Well, that's fine then. I suppose I'll just rip the Band-Aid off then. Jinx is dead."
The room falls to silence, everyone's eyes on James.
"What."
His words, devoid of emotion, cause everyone who heard it to flinch slightly, except for Riley, who simply moves around the desk to hug James from the side.
Because while she herself was not too close with Jinx, she knows that he was, and she doesn't want him to be sad.
After all, James, Jinx and Lusia were the original three Clowns. They've known each other the longest. They're basically a small family of three.
"I'm sorry, J. He was found murdered in a hotel room yesterday. I only got the report today."
"Who."
"I only have a theory so far, nothing concrete, but I'm currently in the process of confirming it-"
"Who."
John lets out a sad sigh at James' tone, but answers anyway. "It was probably a cape called Lucky, working under Bastard Son of The Elite. Now, do you have any way to contact Lusia that isn't her phone? I can't get in touch."
Unfortunately for John, James doesn't really listen to the second half of his words, and simply hangs up the phone without answering.
Leaning slightly into Riley's embrace, James regards Jack, who starts sweating and fidgeting uncomfortably from his attention.
"Change of plans. Cancel Ten's mission for now, we're expanding North. We'll leave the city of New York alone, but we'll push through the State. When we start touching upon New Hampshire, Ten can return to his mission in Brockton."
He knows that Jinx was in Florida, and that Florida is one of the two States where The Elite have a significant presence, but he knows that Lusia would prefer if we get revenge there as Clowns, than just his gang.
Nodding her head, Jack turns on her heel and hurries out of the room, both to follow orders and to escape her Boss' intense gaze, an uncomfortable feeling growing in her chest as the image of his glare imprints itself in her mind.
Queen soon follows, after James gives her a look, leaving the two of them alone.
With the privacy of his office, and only Riley there with him, James lets his face fall as he half-turns to meet Riley, and lets his face simply fall against her shoulder, letting her hold him close.
He doesn't cry. Not because he doesn't want to, but because he can't. One of his experiments, likely the same one that changed his irises, also burnt away his tear ducts.
He wishes he could cry.
///
New York, New York, February 28th, 18:00.
Uppercrust is a businessman.
As such, he is well aware of the sunk cost fallacy.
So when he got a report from his spies in the Florida branch, regarding a dead Clown, he did the smart thing.
He called Lusia Abel, the greatest investment he ever made.
He called her in the hopes that she would control her anger, or at least direct it away from himself.
She hung up before he could say too much, but he has hope that she won't throw away all the work they've done together, all because of something he genuinely had no fault in.
If he wasn't so sure that the man was already certain to die, Uppercrust would be of half a mind to head over to Oakland himself to teach that foolish man-child a lesson.
With a sigh, Uppercrust leans back in his chair and puts down his phone. Reaching forward, he then presses his intercom button, calling his secretary.
"What can I do for you, Sir?"
"Melissa, get a message out to everyone will you? Everyone can take the rest of the day off, with full pay. Tell them to go have a drink, spend time with their family, whatever it is they do to unwind."
"U-uh, o-of course, Sir! Is there a reason?"
Pausing slightly, Uppercrust considers his answer, before ultimately deciding that ignorance is bliss. "No. No particular reason."
Hanging up, he reaches under his desk and takes out a bottle of fine scotch and pours himself half a glass, toasting to the air before downing it and pouring another, planning to take the second glass a lot slower.
Lusia has been a good investment with incredible returns. He truly hopes that she doesn't overreact too much. At the very least, he hopes that her relationship with Clara will stay her hand from his city.
He's not even upset that she's converted one of his men, or woman, in this case. She doesn't have a particularly useful power, and she's good at her job, which doesn't involve anything that he would want to keep secret from Lusia, so he just pretends that he never figured it out.
After all, trading one relatively replaceable worker in exchange for Lusia looking even slightly better upon his organisation as a whole is a fair trade in his eyes.
Technically, as part of his position in The Elite, Uppercrust should be warning Bastard Son about the approaching danger to his life, and Uppercrust doesn't break his word.
So he will warn him.
...He'll just finish this drink first. A small delay or two can't be blamed on him, can it?
With a smile, Uppercrust raises his glass to his lips and takes a tiny sip.
"Good luck."
///
Washington, D.C., February 28th, 18:05.
Sitting in her office, Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown dutifully reads through yet another report regarding her most recent annoyance. A band of psychopaths calling themselves Clowns that has only been growing in influence ever since their founding.
One of then, a relatively well known cape, Shinobi, famous for killing foreign leaders, has once again killed a foreign leader, which of course leads to their replacement yelling at her, as if she is somehow personally at fault.
It brings her no end of annoyance when people claim that he is a false flag operation, working to extend America's influence, but he's too elusive to actually capture.
Not that she's really surprised about that, of all things. He was trained by Angel after all, and she knows just how capable that man can be when properly motivated.
As if that wasn't enough, String Theory has continued to be a general nuisance, though at the very least she seems to have taken nearly getting Birdcaged as warning enough that she hasn't pulled through with her threat against the moon.
But, as if the world is out to get her, Rebecca's emergency phone rings, causing her to frown.
What's going wrong now?
She places her phone on her desk and answers it, causing a hologram of a simple, mousey looking woman to appear above it. "Dragon," she acknowledges the Tinker with a nod, "What is it?"
"Bad news I'm afraid, Director," Rebecca rolls her eyes at the obvious statement, "I'm sending you a report now."
Turning to her computer, Rebecca sees the report in question and opens it, skim reading the first page in only a few seconds, a sinking feeling growing in her gut the further she reads.
"Shit."
"My thoughts exactly, Director. I'm currently tracking Lusia Abel via satellite, and considering her current actions, as well as her status as an S-Class threat, I believe this should qualify as a class S crisis."
Rebecca almost lets out a groan, but careful control of her expressions and years of experience keep her face stoic for the Canadian Tinker.
The hologram showing Dragon's face flickers and the image is replaced by a top down view of the countryside, with only what seems like a deep violet meteor cruising through the sky, leaving behind a long, laser-like trail.
"I assume that is Abel?"
"Yes."
"Where is she going and how long do we have?"
"She is flying in a straight line, so as long as that does not change course then her flight path will only cross two major cities, first being Minneapolis, then San Francisco. She will reach Minneapolis in twenty minutes, San Francisco in seventy."
The hologram zooms out, transitioning into a map of the country, with a red line extending from Montreal, with a slowly moving dot indicating Lusia, and a half transparent line showing her expected course.
Rebecca does some quick math in her head, and realises that that means Abel is moving at around two thousand miles an hour, nearly Mach three.
"Do you believe she will stop at Minneapolis? And do you have any theories on her intended course of action?"
"I believe she will skip Minneapolis. I have received a report that The Elite is likely responsible for the death of Fool, and since Bastard Son has his base of operation in Oakland, I believe that he is directly responsible, or at least she suspects he is, which is a fair assumption considering his reputation."
Dragon pauses, her hesitancy making Rebecca raise a brow.
"If I may speak freely, Director?" Dragon asks.
"You may."
"I believe that she simply wants to vent, and will likely be incredibly destructive. I suggest evacuating Oakland, as well as the surrounding area, and treating this as an internal Endbringer attack."
If possible, Rebecca's brow would raise even higher.
"An Endbringer? Do you think she is that much of a threat?"
"No, not really. But I don't think she's that far off, hence 'internal'. No Villains would show up, as she isn't an Endbringer, but I still believe it would be best to treat her with similar caution, if only to avoid mistakes."
Nodding her head, Rebecca considers her words, before simply letting out a resigned sigh in her mind. "Alright, I will get the Triumvirate up to date and start organising an evac and send out a message to everyone on the critical situation roster."
Nodding once, Dragon hangs up the call, and Rebecca finally lets out the sigh that has been building up.
"Fucking Clowns. I truly hate that woman." Growling to herself as the thought of Lusia reminds her of the flowers she got, and the photo attached.
Hopefully, she thinks to herself as she gets up from her seat and moves over to the wall, pushing a specific spot to make a draw slide out, containing an outfit that she quickly starts changing into, I can use this opportunity to kill the bitch, or at least 'Cage her.
Less than a minute later, Rebecca is finished changing, and now, instead of the Chief Director standing in her office, there is only Alexandria.
"Door to Eidolon."
=================
A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
Oki, that's the last of February 28th, 18:00. Time to actually move forward in time lol.
Also yeah, surprise for all y'all non worm readers! The Chief Director of the PRT is the secret identity of Alexandria, second in command of the Protectorate! She gives herself orders! how wild is that?
Next chap will prolly be stuff happening, but I don't plan on doing another Lusia perspective for the rest of the vol, so we're only getting thrid person from now on.
This time the chapter is late for the same reason the last one was early, which is to say that it is 9pm and I just woke up :).
(5+)Advanced chapters with the links below!
pat/reon.com/user?u=41732867 (get rid of the first slash or check the description)
Also, join the discord with this invite code! Pj3Dttwses
