Book 2: Chapter 134: Adages and Idiots
Book 2: Chapter 134: Adages and Idiots
Galeforce was in the wind, having fled the city at speeds rivaling some military jets. The condominium he’d attempted to raid was now a round, smooth crater. The surrounding three blocks had been showered with falling debris and boiling metal. Several fires had broken out, that couldn’t be contained until the fighting was over. Dozens were dead, hundreds more injured. Property damage was through the roof.
Needless to say, things could’ve gone better. But, in the eyes of the citizens of Austin, things could’ve gone much worse. There were deaths, but those had largely been contained to the condo where events had kicked off. In the fatalistic eyes of Dimension A, it was just bad luck. Everyone understood the reality of the situation. People had powers, and sometimes they used those powers to do terrible things. If you were unfortunate enough to be caught at the source, there wasn’t really anything to be done.
The city was in full recovery mode, as construction companies came out of the woodwork to repair what had been broken. Dan’s business inbox was already full of messages requesting material transportation, but he was currently finishing up his debriefing on his role in the Dunkirk situation. The federal agent was in custody, and by all appearances, completely fucked.
“We haven’t heard anything back from the FBI,” Cornelius said, sounding smug. “It’s been two hours. If anyone gave a shit about him, they would’ve spoken up by now. He’s being thrown to the wolves.”
The two of them were in a meeting room at the APD’s southwestern district headquarters. They’d already gone over most of the specifics. Dan had walked Cornelius through Dunkirk’s movements and actions, broadly speaking, and Cornelius was filling him in on the consequences. There was enough proof of Dunkirk’s guilt just from cell phone videos, over a dozen of which that had been generously handed over to the police by spiteful citizens.
“What about the bomb?” Dan asked.
Cornelius lounged back in his office chair. He kicked up his feet onto the table, the metal prosthetic thunking hard against the wood. He yawned widely, before answering, “Not a bomb.”
Dan’s brow furrowed. “No? What was it?”
Cornelius bobbed his head from side to side. “Well, it was kind of a bomb. Maybe in the strictest sense of the word. It was an incendiary strapped to a device that would create a small EMP. You know what that is?”
Dan nodded. “Sure. Electromagnetic pulse. An energy burst that fries electronics, like what a nuke does, except without the fire and radiation and death. But I always figured it was something reserved for the movies.”
Cornelius waggled his hand. “Maybe it should be. Kind of a crapshoot, so far as weapons go. Most of our electronics are hardened, same goes for military hardware.” He wags his finger. “Civilian stuff, though. Oh yeah. It’s nasty business, there. That bag would’ve fried everything electronic within three blocks, then gone up in flames, probably taking the building with it. It wouldn’t have completely erased Dunkirk’s digital footprint in the city, but it would’ve certainly made tracking his movements almost impossible in the aftermath. Also, it would’ve fragged all that fancy tech he left behind in his hotel’s walls. Very inconvenient for us.”
“Meaning that, by the time anyone noticed the pain gun was missing, he would’ve destroyed all evidence of his exit from the city,” Dan observed.
“More or less.” Cornelius shrugged. “Obviously, we’d assume it was him, but without proof, what can you do?” He spread his arms and shrugged. “It’s the way the game is played. Though, usually with fewer casualties. Dunkirk went big on this, and he flopped hard.”
“Can you prove he contacted Galeforce?” Dan asked eagerly. “He should pay for that mess, too.”
“There was a laptop in the car, and we’ve got his phone. Could be, there’s something incriminating on them. Course, we have to break federal encryption which is no easy feat, but I figure we’ll get through eventually. Maybe we get lucky, and he was sloppy. Maybe we don’t, and he wasn’t.” Cornelius shrugged, supremely unconcerned. “We’ve got his ass, no matter what. We don’t really need to stack on any more charges.”
Dan scowled. “He got a lot of people killed.”
“Galeforce got a lot of people killed,” Cornelius corrected. “Him and that lunatic mutate who we still don’t have a name for. Dunkirk helped, certainly, but I doubt he intended for things to get so out of control. It was a means to an end. I’d be honestly surprised if he gave the consequences more than a moment’s thought.”
“That’s not better,” Dan pointed out.
“Maybe not,” Cornelius agreed, “Still, understanding a person’s intention is important.”
“How does understanding his intention help here? “Dan asked.
“Well.” Cornelius drew out the word. “A more paranoid man than I might think this whole adventure was a plot to injure the APD, and show our citizens that we can’t protect them any better than the National Guard. A more paranoid man that I might claim that Galeforce blindly trusted Dunkirk’s information because it came from a source that he trusted; a source that Dunkirk was given access to because the vigilante is being covertly funded by someone higher up on the food chain. A more paranoid man might say that Dunkirk was used as a disposable federal asset, whose purpose was to cause a disruption in Austin and embarrass this police department.”
“You’re talking false flag shit. Conspiracy theories.” Dan frowned. It galled him that he couldn’t immediately disregard Cornelius’ words. “You really believe all that?”
“No.” Cornelius replied without hesitation. “As a matter of fact, I do not. But there are people in positions of power who do. One of them happens to be our mayor. Gable is on the fence, but leaning my way, I think. Gregoir shares my conclusions.”
“And what are those?”
Cornelius blew out a gusty breath, and pulled his feet off the table. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he shook his head, a little forlorn.
“Heinlein’s razor,” he said. “You know it?”
Dan pursed his lips. “That the one about simplicity being best?”
“That’s Occam’s, and it applies here too. Heinlein’s razor states that you never attribute conditions to villainy that simply result from stupidity. Galeforce is obviously young. He’s powerful, but inexperienced. We can presume Dunkirk tipped him off, and that he chose that specific opponent because he thought he would last the longest. Everything after that is the natural consequences of those choices. No need for some grand conspiracy, just a stupid vigilante and a desperate fed making some very poor decisions.”
Very poor indeed. Galeforce had been officially labeled a villain. Any goodwill he might have built up in Austin’s eyes was firmly squashed. Dan could only begin to guess at how those teenagers playing at vigilante were going to take the news. Galeforce had a warrant spanning the state of Texas, and lethal force was authorized if he tried to flee. Just about everybody was done making excuses for the young man. Everybody was done not taking him seriously. Nobody was playing around anymore.
“What about the mutate?” Dan asked. “He’s not saying anything?”
“He’s unconscious,” Cornelius revealed. “Medically induced coma until we figure out who he is, or figure out a way to suppress his abilities.”
“I suppose Dunkirk isn’t being open on that front?” Dan asked.
Cornelius laughed. “He hasn’t said a word. He knows how fucked he is. Lawyered up immediately, not that it’ll help him.”
“Good,” Dan said. He paused for a few moments, running over the day’s events in his head. He wanted to go home and hug Abby. “We done here?”
“We’re done,” Cornelius confirmed, standing up. He extended his hand, and they shook. “Captain Gable would like to convey his thanks for your assistance. The official line is that you were hired to troubleshoot the defenses at our evidence control center. Expect a check in mail in the next few weeks.”
“Fair enough.” Dan turned to leave, but paused. “One last thing. Who was Dunkirk’s person on the inside? Assuming you’re allowed to say.”
Cornelius’ good mood soured. “We found one. A city councilor on our budget committee. He had access to all the relevant information, including the purchase and installation of that pressure sensor. Problem is, he couldn’t have known that we were moving on Dunkirk. That tip-off at the end? It came from a cop.”
“The order wasn’t given on a private channel?” Dan asked.
“It was, but all of our cars have built in GPS tracking. It’s a safety thing. You can bring up a map right there on your dashboard, and see where everyone is across the city. Anyone on the force could have noticed that squad car peeling off towards Dunkirk’s location. It was obvious, given that most of us were clumped around Galeforce.”
“So you’ve got a mole on the force,” Dan stated grimly.
“So we’ve got a mole on the force,” Cornelius confirmed.