Petr scoffs. “You order me around like one of your little pets.” He flicks his two-foot hairdo in our direction. “But remember, Larson, I can crush you. Just because you are Director doesn’t mean you are untouchable.”
Ann is on her feet in a blink, and I’m right behind her. I put a hand out on her shoulder, vaguely attempting to hold her back, but thinking I wouldn’t mind much if she pulled loose and socked him right in the kisser. I’ve already given him a handful of knuckles in the past forty-eight hours. Ann can take her turn now.
Vince stands and holds his hands out in between Petr and Ann. “Now, now, what I think Petr meant to say was that he would love nothing more than to find Tess and end this madness. He would think it his pleasure to bring a living hero back to me when this is done.”
Petr grunts. We get a Siberian-cold glare before he pushes off the desk and stomps out the door like he’s trying to knock ice off his boots.
“Nice tights, Pete,” I mutter as he disappears down the steps. “Do you trust him,” I ask Vince.
“Not especially, but what choice do I have?” Vince says this more to the floor than either of us. “If I told him no, the heroes would think I’m going soft on Tess or that I don’t care about stopping this.”
“Are you going soft on Tess?” The question is Ann’s, but it matches the thoughts floating around in my head. Vince seems convinced Tess has been innocent from the start and, other than a brief flash from River, Vince is the only one who’s showed any sympathy towards her.
Vince’s nostrils flair and he opens his arms out to both of us in one of those ‘Come at me’ kind of stances. “Not you. And what about you, Jim? I suppose you think I’m going soft on Tess, too?”
After an awkward silence, Vince reaches up and grabs at his tie, pulling the knot away from his neck. The red tint in his face trails down and disappears into his open collar. He spits his wad of gum into a trashcan by the cockpit door. “Everyone, all of them,” Vince shakes a hand at the window of the plane, “they can all think I’m crazy for believing in Tess and that’s fine by me. But they are all biased. She’s the black sheep of this fucked-up family, and every single one of those heroes is quick to drop the blame solely on her.”
Vince paces the plane with enough force to dislodge the carpeting. The stuff is so plush they probably have leprechauns spin the cotton from clouds shot straight from a maiden unicorn’s ass. I’m only slightly exaggerating.
“But not you two. I need you both to give an unbiased opinion of the situation. If you investigate and find out that Tess really is just,” Vince’s hands slap against his thighs as he drops his arms, “just off her rocker, then I will accept that.”
I look over at Ann. Her eyes flick to Vince and then away.
“Listen, Vince, we are coming at this from every possible angle…”
His mouth falls open a little as he turns all of his attention to me.
“
But,
I have to admit, there has been a lot pointing in Tess’ general direction.”
The color drains from Vince’s face until it looks less like a hot sauce bottle and more like the Pink Panther. “Just…” his voice is soft, an almost defeated kind of whisper. He takes the gum packet back out of his pocket, looks at it for a moment, and puts it back. “Just don’t give up on her yet. This situation still stinks to high heaven. I know you both smell it. Keep yourselves as neutral as possible and give this mess the investigation it deserves, and in a hurry.”
“Are you worried Tess will attack again soon?” I ask. She took a little time off between Seattle and Houston, but who knows when the next one will come.
“Possibly, but I’ve just authorized a five super-hero hit team. Tess won’t go down without a fight. Look outside if you need evidence. If they catch up to her before you, this thing could blow up in a big way.”
“And you think we can stop her?”
“He knows we can,” Ann says. “The other heroes will try to fight fire with fire, but we don’t need that. As soon as I get close, Tess becomes a normal woman with some high-tech training. We will be on equal footing, should it come to a fight.”
Vince nods. “She’s got the right of it. So I need you to find Tess and end this.”
“What about our lead on AHA?” We worked hard for that name.
“Ditch it.”
“Sir,” Ann says, “with all due respect, that could be an important lead. If we find out who orchestrated the bombing of the Engine we can either confirm or deny Tess’ guilt on that end of things. Right now, we don’t know if Tess’ actions and the destruction of the Engine are separate acts or the work of a bigger plan. I think we need to follow all leads.”
Vince holds Ann under his gaze for a beat before turning to me, a question in his eyes.
“Yeah, yes. I agree with Ann. This whole thing needs sorting out. The timing is too perfect to be a coincidence. We need to track both to come to an end. Right now we are waiting on Adriana to get back to us. In the meantime, we can work on Tess.”
“What line are you going to follow on Tess right now?”
That’s a brilliant question, to which I have no answer. I flash an empty look to Ann and hope she saves me before my somewhat well thought-out ship of a plan hits an atom bomb.
Ann hesitates for a moment, trying to think as fast as I am, I suppose. She finally says, “Tess is from Houston, right?”
“Yes.” Vince leans against a cabinet close to the plane exit.
“Does she still have family here?”
That’s a damn good point. Between AHA and destroyed cities, I haven’t had the time to think about her family. The parents are the first place to check on a normal case. I must be tired. This is a mystery, just like any other police case. I need to get my head out of my ass and start thinking like a cop.
Vince nods.
“Has anyone from SHI been to speak with them?” Ann’s got a smirk on her face. She probably already knows the answer to this question.
“Well, no. You are the only team I put in place other than Petr. They are on a seek-and-destroy mission, so I highly doubt they will be looking into next of kin.”
“Perfect.”
“Report back to me if you come across anything significant. “ Vince starts down the stairs. “We are going to work through the night, but once everyone is found, I’m pulling all heroes back to SHI to be on alert for another attack.” He leaves before either of us have time to argue.
“Do you think that’s such a good idea,” I ask Ann. “Pulling all the heroes out that quick?”
She shrugs. “Once people are clear of the wreckage, the worst is dealt with. The city will clean up and the heroes need to rest in preparation for another attack. By the time word comes it may be too late, but they will be ready just in case.”
That makes sense, I guess. As long as all the people are safe, but SHI will still be leaving one hell of a huge mess in its wake. I stand up and head for the exit. “You ready to make a house call?”
Ann grabs the GPS device and follows. “Anything, yeah, as long as we aren’t going back to Tennessee.”
ANN CALLS ADRIANA
to get the address for Tess’ parents uploaded to our GPS.
“We need a car,” I say, after she hangs up.
“Over there.” Ann points to an unmarked police car. “It’s official business, we can borrow it.”
“Yeah,” I say slowly, “I’ll let you take point on this one.” I’d be damned if I let some stranger walk up and take my cruiser on ‘Official SHI business’.
The car is a nifty little Chevy Camaro. Ann steps in front of me. A plainclothes officer waits near the car, talking into a microphone stretched from the dash.
“Excuse me, Sir,” Ann says, in a polite enough voice.
He gives us the finger. No, not that finger, the ‘Just a minute’ finger.
Ann sighs. “Excuse me. Sir,” she says, a little louder, more direct.
Mr. Houston Detective gives us a much more impatient ‘just a minute’ finger.
Ann’s shoulders drop. She takes three precise steps that bring her chest-to-chest with the cop. Her left hand slaps down on the hood of the car while her right reaches for the pocket of her pants to pull out an official ID.
The cop drops his mic and squares toe-to-toe with Ann. His chest swells and his mouth opens for a good ol’ bitching-out for disturbance of an occupied police officer. But before his tongue starts clucking, his eyes land on Ann’s ID. He freezes, like a freshly stupefied moron.
“If you’ll excuse me,
Sir,
my partner and I are on official SHI business. We find ourselves without transportation. Super Hero Initiative
Director
Larson has assured me that HPD will do anything in their power to assist in our efforts of saving the city.” She turns her proper English accent on full blast with a quiet demand that would make any prime minister quiver.
“I-I…um…” The cop nods, his face one of softening denial.
This is the part where I would expect Ann to bat her eyes a few times, but she’s not that kind of girl. Brute force over feminine wiles seems to be her modus operandi.
“Yes, I know. You would love to help in any way you can. My name is Special Agent Ann Pretorius and my partner is Special Agent James Quig. Tell your superior that we borrowed your vehicle if you like. We’ll only need it for an hour or two, and it seems like your hands will be full while you wait on us with…”Ann sweeps her hand out across the wreckage of the city.
Cop looks at the torn down block and then at Ann. His nose crunches and it looks like he’s about to spit, but he sucks in a deep breath and steps away from his car.
“The Initiative thanks you for your assistance, Officer.” Ann takes the driver’s seat. I drop into the passenger seat.
“Special agents?” She really pulled the bullshit over the guy’s eyes on that one.
“Yeah.” She affixes the GPS to the dash. “It’s close enough, all right. We didn’t have time to argue.”
“We could have just called Vince to get a ride.”
“We can handle this.” She drops the car into gear and pounces on the accelerator like a pissed-off cheetah. The engine revs and the back tires break loose as she swings the car around, following the arrow on the screen.
“So did Adriana say anything about Donovan?”
“She gave me a good earful. She said it takes more than an hour to pull the correct name out of seven billion. There wasn’t much I could say after that.”
“Good point. Hopefully she has something for us when we get back from Tess’ parents.”
“Samantha Higgins.” Ann takes a screeching left turn at just passed the point where the tires can hold traction. My stomach lurches as I’m thrown against the car door. “Who? And is there a reason to drive so fast?”
“Gravitess’ name is Samantha Higgins. I imagine her parents would appreciate us referring to her as such, yeah? And we need to get this over with as quick as we can. Besides, with everyone working back at the park, who’s out here to pull me over?” Ann has to slow down to get through a side street packed with parked cars on either side.
“Looks like they feel the same way.” I point at a group of teenagers busting the window out of an electronics shop. On instinct, I reach over and give the lights and siren a quick blip.
The kids jump and take off running through an alley. Hopefully that puts an end to their looting. For tonight, anyway.
Ann pulls the car back onto a main road and guns it again. Lucky for us, it’s getting late and the attack on the city has probably scared most people indoors for the night.
I’m too tired to keep up any form of conversation. The rest of the fifteen-minute drive to Tess’ house is occupied by nothing other than the sound of squealing tires and burned dinosaur bones.
Large offices and businesses of the city give way to smaller mom-and-pop places, and eventually those give out to rural housing. Mostly rundown brick houses with front porches just big enough for a couple of folding chairs. I’d be willing to bet there is a lot of front porch snooping, I mean, front porch sitting that goes on here in the daylight hours. At this time of night, though, it’s all just dust and a quiet kind of despair.
After a couple more streets, the GPS politely informs us we have reached our destination.
“John and Carol Higgins.” Ann gets out of the car, gently closing the door behind her.
I do the same, respecting the peaceful quietness of the neighborhood. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Adriana told me over the phone.”
We walk up three concrete steps and across the tiny front porch. The stoop has two folding metal chairs with woven, plastic seats. A radio that looks like it came straight out of 1950 sits on a table. I wonder how long John and Carol have lived here. Was this place always inhabited by two-job poverty, or did the Higgins used to sit on their porch and barbecue for the neighborhood while the kids played baseball in the street?
Ann’s soft knock on the door pulls me out of my retro reverie.
After a minute or so with no signs of life, Ann knocks harder.
There is a fumbling sound at the other end of the house followed by a light popping on, just barely visible through the curtains. A few moments later, another light turns on and the door swings inward.
A gentleman in his late fifties, give or take, stands there in Houston Astros pajama pants and a Texans t-shirt. He squints to examine our faces in the dim light of the evening—no moon tonight. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, Sir. My name is Ann Pretorius and this is my partner James Quig. We work for the Super Hero Initiative. I apologize for the late hour, but do you think you would have the time to speak to us about your daughter?”
John Higgins’ expression contorts, easily doubling the amount of wrinkles on the man’s weathered face. “Are you here to talk down to us about how our daughter is the first hero to go off the deep end? No thanks. I don’t think I have the time.”
“John, Honey?” A soft voice comes from farther back in the house. “Who is it?”
“It’s nothing,” he croaks.
“Mr. Higgins,” I say, “I know this has to be hard, but we don’t think that Tess, excuse me, we don’t think
Samantha
has gone off the deep end. We aren’t sure if something has happened to her or if she is in danger right now. We’d like to talk so we can get a better idea of the situation as a whole, before we jump to any conclusions.” As if any of the information makes enough sense to jump to conclusions. I couldn’t put all this mess together if my first name was Sherlock.