Book 2: Chapter 147: Summon Bigger Fish
Book 2: Chapter 147: Summon Bigger Fish
The first thing to go through Dan’s mind was, ‘That is some suspiciously inconvenient timing.’ Suspicious, and obvious. Something about that thought tugged at the back of his brain. He waited, but nothing emerged; no epiphany, no plan.
“Fuck,” Dan summarized aloud. “Is there any way for you not to go?”
“I don’t think so,” Rawls replied, his voice echoing with the slight reverb of an earbud microphone. “Even if I could, I don’t think I should. This is Champion we’re talking about. I may very well be the difference between bringing him in without civilian casualties, or another UT Massacre. It’s my responsibility to go.”
“You don’t think this is somewhat auspicious timing for whoever is behind Dunkirk?” Dan pressed. “With you out of the picture, who’s supposed to interrogate the man?”
“The timing is unfortunate, I agree,” Rawls said, “but so long as he makes it here, he should be safe from harm. His death would be an embarrassment to the FBI as a whole, at that point.”
Dan shook his head, pointless as the motion was. “You’re missing me. The timing is more than unfortunate. Is this really a coincidence?” It sounded paranoid, but that was about where Dan’s head was, at the moment. Assassins, conspiracies, and terrorists. Too many moving parts to track, too many pieces on the board. Could he really afford to take things at face value?
“It has to be a coincidence,” Rawls insisted. “You think a faction within the RED Building is somehow allied with the People? They were effectively our mortal enemies for decades! The institutional hatred of that group runs long and deep, and even our neophytes are no exception. Almost everyone here despises the People with the kind of intensity only reserved for unreconcilable enmity. And those who do not blindly hate, such as myself, can readily acknowledge that said anger is well earned. Every agent under my command, and about two dozen who are not, volunteered for this upcoming mission. No. It has to be a coincidence. Any other explanation is simply unthinkable. The People have not infiltrated any organization within the RED Building, I’d stake my life on it.”
There might be another explanation, but Dan wasn’t ready to voice it, and Rawls wasn’t ready to hear it. He pivoted away, but that thought percolating in the back of his mind continued to crystallize.
“You very well might be staking your life on it,” Dan pointed out. “Has it occurred to you that you could easily be walking into another assassination attempt? Say it really is the People; they’d make perfect patsies to explain the sudden death of a prominent federal agent.”
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. “It’s a possibility that I’ve considered,” Rawls finally acknowledged. “Even so, my duty here is clear. I will be acting as a commander, far from the fighting. I will be surrounded by some of the most competent men and women in the world. I have full faith in their ability to keep me alive. I expect it would be exceptionally difficult to arrange any kind of accident while I’m in the middle of a heavily secured command center.”
Dan took that to mean Rawls would probably survive his trip. With that assurance, it was time to turn his attention to more immediate things. Dunkirk would be landing within the hour, and something would need to be done with the man.
“The plan will have to remain the same,” Rawls eventually decided. “Different agents to do the pickup… My part will be delegated away to— Well, I’ll just have to find someone. Not my second. He’s the obvious choice for successor. In the event of my death, he would have been put in charge of the VRU. I can’t discount the possibility that he’s been subverted by my enemies in preparation for that exact eventuality.”
He paused, perhaps waiting for Dan to offer a suggestion or reassurance, but Dan’s mind had suddenly been spirited elsewhere. That whisper in the back of his mind had become a shout, triggered by the words Rawls had just spoke, and the implication behind them. There was a question that had yet to be asked; the first question that should always be asked in times of crisis, when looking for a culprit. But the mere mention of the People had driven everyone to distraction, even Dan. Except here and now, without the dark blinders of institutional memory, the question finally came to the fore:
Who benefits?
Half a dozen theories formed and were discarded. Rawls was not the person to discuss this with. The fed couldn’t help Dan, even if he wanted to. His orders were clear, and it was just as clear that he would obey them. Dan would have to explore other options.
He said, “Whoever you send, I’ll do my best to keep them alive.”
There was a pause as Rawls took that in, then, “You realize they’ll probably encounter stiff resistance, now that most of our manpower will be in Memphis? Losing a few lower ranked agents—and they will be lower ranked because that’s all that’ll be left—will not draw the eye of the press while Champion is in the picture.”
“So expect something big, loud, and obvious?” Dan asked. “Wasn’t that the plan?”
“I suppose,” Rawls admitted, reluctantly. “I just didn’t think it would stand any real chance of success. With most of our forces out of state, our ability to provide proper security is going to be greatly limited. It appears that circumstances have saved whoever is behind Dunkirk. I can only ask you do your best to get him safely to the RED Building. I know you’re only being paid for transportation, but I’d be happy to offer an additional fee for escort duty.”
Kind of him to say, given Dan had already offered to do that. Rawls was clearly taking Dan’s faux-professional act seriously. It was in the fed’s best interest to remain cordial with someone well-connected and competent, two things that Dan had portrayed himself as being. Two things, he was surprised to realize, that were not too far from the truth. Admittedly, he was more well-connected that competent, but the sheer versatility of his power shored up any gaps in common knowledge and sense that he might have.
“I’ll do my best to keep your people alive,” Dan repeated. His veil still swept the airfield, even while he conversed with Rawls. He’d found nothing yet, but that would absolutely change as time passed and manpower shifted towards Memphis. “How long until you leave?”
“Ten minutes,” Rawls replied. “I’ll spend that time coordinating a pickup for Dunkirk. Text you the details.”
“Understood,” Dan said, recognizing that the conversation had come to an end. “Good luck, Rawls.”
“You as well, Dan,” the fed replied, and he ended the call.
Dan sat for a few moments, gathering his thoughts and making plans. He had plenty of options available to him, but the consequences of each were potentially life-changing. It would be effortless to simply portal Dunkirk into the city, and walk him right into the RED Building. Dan could easily instruct Rawls to pull back his men, maybe claim that he’d bring in the prisoner himself. It would be the easiest plan by far. Unfortunately, it would outright confirm Dan’s ability to teleport people.
Right now, he had a good deal of plausible deniability on his side. He’d managed to get Dunkirk to the airfield without any eyes on him, but that could easily be explained away. Dan seriously doubted any enemy agents had made it to the airfield before him. They just didn’t have the time. The simplest explanation for his sudden arrival was a circuitous route to the airfield, bypassing any ambushes that had been put in place. Assuming, of course, there were any. It was entirely possible that all resources had been devoted to stopping Dunkirk after he’d landed.
Or, as Dan was growing increasingly certain of, to plan out this charade in Memphis.
Regardless, opening a door to somewhere in the city and chucking Dunkirk through it had two major problems. The first was that the man was still unconscious and bedridden. It would hardly be subtle for Dan to roll him down the street on a gurney. Many, many questions would be asked. Big, loud, overt, exactly the mistake they wanted the other side to make. It was something that might be overcome with better planning, but he only had an hour to work with.
The second issue was much more difficult to deal with. Washington D.C. was the most heavily surveilled city in the country. There were an alarming number of security cameras posted on every street corner, every building, everywhere. Dan was confident in his anonymity, but if he personally brought Dunkirk into the RED Building, that anonymity would be shattered. As of right now, nobody in the government had any reason to suspect he was anything other than a courier. They wouldn’t be scouring security footage for his face, because they wouldn’t expect to find anything. That would change immediately, if he were to suddenly appear with Dunkirk in tow.
Maybe if he had more time, he could scout out a safe route. Secure a car, find a garage somewhere like in Austin, that he could conceivably arrive and depart from. Unfortunately, he had neither the time, nor the local knowledge to pull off such a task. It was, unfortunately, beyond him. He wouldn’t risk discovery, any more than he already had. That meant his trump card, his doorways, needed to stay secret from the government at large.
So, with dwindling options and time, Dan made a call that he wasn’t looking forward to.
“This better be worth my time,” the cold, unamused voice of Anastasia boomed from his phone. “Make it quick, and if you hang up on me without permission again, I’ll peel you like a banana.”
Dan elected to ignore the threats and go straight to the point. “I assume you’ve heard about Memphis.”
“Oh, yes I have. Yes, indeed.” Anastasia sounded almost giddy. “Can you not tell from my unusually sunny disposition? I’m about to board a flight to Tennessee. I’m going to punt Echo into the moon.”
Disregarding the fact that her ‘sunny disposition’ had opened the conversation with death threats, Dan asked, “You really think it’s him?”
“Naturally,” Anastasia replied with a scoff. “Who else within the People would dare impersonate Champion? Even within that band of fanatics, only Echo would be so brazen, so disrespectful, and so very, very foolish. I’m sure he thinks he has some kind of clever plan in place, but it won’t stop me this time. I’ll tear that city in half to get to him if I have to.”
Dan rolled her eyes as Anastasia ranted. He interrupted her increasingly violent threats with, “We were about to bring in Dunkirk for interrogation.”
Anastasia paused, having briefly forgotten she was even on the phone. “Ah, yes. Your little adventure with the FBI and a rogue Geist. Do tell me how that interrogation goes. Later. After I’m finished disassembling Echo.”
“There won’t be an interrogation without Rawls, and he’s been called away to deal with Champion.”
She hummed. “A pity. He won’t be needed. Neither will his men.”
“The timing is certainly… auspicious, for whoever wants Dunkirk dead,” Dan pointed out.
“Perhaps,” Anastasia acknowledged. “But whoever heads your little conspiracy can wait. The People are at the very top of my to-do list, and they’ve just made their last mistake.”
“But what if it isn’t?”
“Isn’t what?” Anastasia asked. Dan could hear her frown.
“A mistake,” he said.
“You think it’s a trap?” She asked, followed immediately by a harsh laugh. “Of course it’s a trap! I already know this. I simply do not care. They’ve been clever, I’ll give them that. But there comes a point where no amount of guile can compete with power. It is a lesson I intend to teach the People well.”
She really was obsessed, Dan thought. For good reason, true, but it was blinding her to any other option. It was the same with the FBI, with Rawls, with every person in the country. The moment the People became involved, the moment Champion appeared, everyone lost their minds. There was too much history, there. Too much hatred and regret.
“I think it isn’t the People at all,” Dan said, voicing his theory at last. “I don’t think the timing is a coincidence. I think that whoever is backing Dunkirk, is the same person who arranged for a Champion sighting in Memphis. The same person who is now trying to kill Dunkirk. The same person behind Galeforce, and possibly more vigilantes around the country.”
“It’s the People,” Anastasia dismissed his words without a second’s hesitation. “Funding vigilantes? Who else would it be?”
“Galeforce was a catastrophe in the making,” Dan insisted. “Anyone with a lick of sense could tell that much within thirty seconds of meeting the man. He was always going to do something stupid, and cause a scene. It was only a matter of when, and how bad. And look at the result! Any popularity he gained from his debut was completely torpedoed by that mess in Austin! Why would the People endorse someone who would hurt their cause?”
Anastasia digested that for several seconds. “You’re suggesting someone funded Galeforce with the intention for him to fail? You’ve been reading too much fiction. False-flag operations don’t happen nearly so often in real life as you might think.”
“But you admit that they do happen,” Dan pointed out. “Think about it. Dunkirk pointed Galeforce towards Austin. He all but admitted as much. He had an in with the vigilante. Dunkirk, who held Andros Bartholomew captive for months, who lost his reputation and his command when the People broke out his prisoner. He is no friend of the People.”
Silence, again. Dan used the time to continue his sweep of the airfield. It was almost a meditative activity at this point, cataloging his surroundings. He himself was nestled in the corner of a hangar, sitting cross-legged behind a metal strut. No cameras could see him, and the few civilian workers were occupied elsewhere. It wasn’t the most comfortable place from which to scout, but it beat standing out in the open.
Finally, Anastasia grudgingly admitted, “It’s a theory, and one filled with holes. Even so, it’s a possibility that I should have at least considered. That I didn’t… hm.”
“You heard Champion, thought Echo, and charged off to pick a fight. You’re like a bull wearing blinders, and the People are a bright red flag.”
“But who is the matador?” she mused, quietly. “Let’s pretend I buy your theory. What do you propose I do about it? Whatever is happening in Memphis must be investigated, and if it really is Echo, there are few individuals other than myself who are capable of dealing with him.”
“He still has that teleporter,” Dan pointed out. “What were you going to do if that guy showed up again?”
“Swat him like the fly he is!” Anastasia declared. “There is a noticeable lag between trips where he is vulnerable. I’ve seen the footage. The man tries to play it off as grandstanding, but I know better.”
“How were you planning on finding him?” Dan pressed. “Even you aren’t so crazy as to just start ripping the city apart.”
“I have agents in play,” she replied, aggrieved. “Once an area was narrowed down, I would make a personal appearance. My sensory abilities are the most subtle portion of my power, but they are no less effective.”
Where did all the bluster go, Dan wondered. It was obvious to him, now, that Anastasia was nowhere near as confident in her success as she’d first pretended to be. It was a rare weakness, and one he fully exploited.
“I can ask Rawls to keep me in the loop,” Dan offered, fairly sure he could make good on the promise. “Between the feds and your own people, you’ll have a much better chance of tracking down Champion’s doppelganger. In the meantime, I need your help with Dunkirk. If I’m right, his information is more important than ever.”
“I don’t require your assistance to learn what the FBI knows,” Anastasia snapped, seemingly out of pure spite. There was a brief pause, before she added, “What is it you want me to do in D.C.? I have a few assets nearby, but anything large-scale would take time you don’t have. If I’m not mistaken, Dunkirk’s flight lands in less than half an hour. If these mystery assailants make a move immediately, you’re going to be in a great deal of trouble.”
Dan checked his watch, and swore silently. He was running out of time.
“I don’t need your men,” Dan said. “Extra guns are always helpful, but that’s no guarantee of success. I need something so dangerous, so overwhelming, that only someone truly desperate would try to attack it, and they’d be guaranteed to fail.”
“Me,” Anastasia summarized, catching on instantly. “You want me in D.C.?” She let out a harsh bark of laughter. “I just told you: Memphis is more important. I will not miss a chance at Echo, even if it’s a trap, a trick, or an illusion. If I go to D.C. I lose any chance I might have of catching the People. Unlike yourself, I cannot travel eight-hundred miles in an instant.”
“…But what if you could?” Dan asked, his entire body wincing at the question. He didn’t want to give up this card, but he reasoned she would learn about it eventually, regardless. He wasn’t so naïve as to think she didn’t still have him and Abby under surveillance. Dan would slip up, eventually. Better to reveal it on his terms.
“Come again?” she asked.
“Where are you right now?” Dan replied, in lieu of an answer. “Are you alone?”
“Of course I’m alone,” she replied with a huff. “You think I need assistance to wait on a plane, like some kind of decrepit old woman?”
Dan ignored her barbs, accepting them for the involuntary responses that they were. “Send me a picture.”
There was a long pause as Anastasia considered the implications of his request. After a minute of grumbling, his phone buzzed.
“This better be good,” she warned him.
Dan looked at the picture. He sighed, sinking his veil into the nearby wall. With a flex of his will, he opened a door. He was greeted with the unique sight of Anastasia Summers violently flinching as a hole in reality appeared beside her. Dan quickly glanced around, taking in the lonely patch of tarmac. She was, as promised, alone.
He looked at her. “You coming?”
She stared, not quite slack-jawed.
“That’s new,” she noted, voice slightly unsteady.
“No shit,” Dan replied, then repeated, “You coming?”
She stared for another long moment, before coming to her senses and flattening her expression. She eyed the edges of the portal with keen interest, before cocking her head and staring past Dan.
“Interesting,” she commented, before stepping forward without hesitation. She crossed the border, showing no other than a sharp breath. Dan snapped the doorway shut as soon as she made it through.
“You’ve found your concept,” she said, and— Was that approval?
“If you say so,” Dan offered, neutrally. “As you can see, I can get you to Memphis. So, you gonna help me?”
She hummed to herself as she took in her surroundings. “What is it you’re wanting to do?”
I want to strap you to the transport car like a hood ornament, he thought. I want to wave you around like a cross to ward off vampires, except the vampires are bad men with guns.
“I want to get Dunkirk to the RED Building in one piece,” he said. “I’m thinking your presence might help with that.”