2

Trump Card

Part 2: Flashbacks

"How's your tea?" asked Miss Militia.

I sipped at it, then sipped some more. It helped calm my nerves.

"It's good," I confessed. "Really good."

Beside me, Dad put his coffee cup down with a definitive clunk.

"Can we get past the ass-kissing and deal with the problem at hand here?" he asked. He wasn't angry - yet - but I could tell that he was on the way there.

"Yes," decided Director Piggot. "Let's."

Her gaze roved around the table, from Velocity to myself and Dad, Miss Militia, Triumph, and finally Shadow Stalker.

"You all know what we're here about," she stated. "The incident at Winslow, this morning. Where one of our Wards apparently shut an innocent girl into her own locker with toxic waste, and left her there."

I stared at her. "Excuse me, what?"

"Yes, Miss Hebert?"

I felt my voice rising; I tried to control it, but there it was. "There's no 'apparently' about it. It happened. To me. I -"

Director Piggot cut me off with a raised hand. "Miss Hebert, kindly contain yourself. This is a serious undertaking - "

"A serious waste of time, you mean," I interrupted. "Cover your ass all the way. Downplay what Sophia was supposed to have done, until there's nothing to answer for. And if I try to get redress elsewhere,I'mthe bad guy."

"Mr Hebert." Her voice should have turned the air in the room to solid ice. "Kindly tell your daughter to cease disrupting the proceedings."

"I'm not sure why I should," Dad told her, in a calm, measured tone of voice. "She does have a point. I've been in the odd negotiation before now, and a key tactic is to use language that downplays the other side's position." He pushed his glasses up his nose slightly. "Why are you doing that, exactly? After all, my daughter was locked into her locker, there is evidence of what was in there with her, and shehasnamed Sophia Hess, among others, as her tormentor in this case."

He wasn't shouting, and he wasn't overriding her. I saw now my mistake in doing both. This gave her the perfect excuse to shut me down.

She looked uncomfortable for the first time. "I understand that the locker incident did happen. But the school has been interviewing the girls in question, and they claim innocence in the matter. Furthermore, it appears that the faculty is – at least in part – backing them up."

I shook my head violently. "They're lying! Covering their asses! They've been letting this shit go on since – fuck, since I started at Winslow! And you're believing them over me?"

Director Piggot cleared her throat. "Language, Miss Hebert. I will not warn you a second time."

I breathed deeply for a few moments. "Sorry. Sorry. It's just that -"

Dad put his hand on my shoulder. "Kiddo, take a breath," he advised. Then he looked at Piggot, and his eyes were angry. "You're doing it again, Director," he told her. "She was bullied for more than a year, she was shut in a locker. And you're pulling her up for swearing? I see exactly what you're doing."

He deliberately turned away from her, dismissing her, to address me. "Classic technique. Cause the opposition to retract something, to apologise, and they're on the back foot from then on, more ready to offer concessions."

I felt anger overcoming the brief feeling of guilt. "Director Piggot. Are you even going to listen when I say that Shadow Stalker's been bullying me for months? Or have you already made up your mind not to do anything about it?"

Earlier

"Okay, Velocity, once more, from the top."

Velocity looked ill at ease, seated in the chair before the Director's desk.

"I got the call that Shadow Stalker was fighting someone at Winslow, with her own powers. I think the Barnes girl sent it in. When I got there, they were both in shadow form, and I didn't know who was who. Then one of them pulled the other one out of the wall, and dropped her, and they changed to normal, and one of them was Shadow Stalker, and the other one ... wasn't."

Piggot glared. "Why did you even stop to talk to the girl, rather than just taking her down hard? She had already attacked Shadow Stalker."

"Look, I know it looked bad. But Shadow Stalker was still moving. The Hebert girl was talking. She could have killed Hess, but she didn't. I've been trained to de-escalate situations, and I figured that it might work in this case. So I decided to find out what she wanted."

"You took a huge chance with an unknown factor, Swoyer," snapped the Director. "You should have taken her down and brought her in. A dangerous cape ..."

Velocity took a deep breath. "Director, I don't want to tell you how to do your job –"

"Then don't," growled Piggot.

" – but you haven't been out and about with Shadow Stalker. I have. She has an ... attitude problem."

"She's a probationary Ward with an attempted manslaughter charge hanging over her head. Two and a half years of being a solitary vigilante in Brockton Bay before we brought her into the Wards. That will breed a certain attitude. One which we need to iron out of her, yes, but understandable that it is there in the first place. Your point being?"

"My point being, Director, is that I'm actually fairly good at reading body language. When I arrived, I got the impression that Shadow Stalker was overacting. Pretending to be hurt worse than she really was."

Piggot was silent for a long moment. "So you're saying that you believe that Shadow Stalker tried to incite you to attack with overwhelming force, so that the Hebert girl would never have a chance to say her piece."

"Or that we'd never believe her, given that she'd just taken down Shadow Stalker," agreed Velocity. "But when she told me what she did, at a speed only I could pick up, it changed the whole equation. Made me wonder if there wasn't more to the situation, something going on that we didn't know about."

"Well, we'll know more in a few moments," the Director noted. "Miss Militia's interviewing her now. By the time she's finished, I'll know whether to commend you for initiative, bust you down to probationary member, or hit the Endbringer siren."

Velocity searched the Director's features. She appeared to be serious on all counts. He swallowed involuntarily.

I looked up as the slim woman with the flag-print scarf entered the blank, spare room. There was a chair, moderately comfortable, and a table. There was another chair on the other side of the table, and a large mirror on the wall beyond. I had seen enough cop shows to know what was beyond the mirror.

I wasn't handcuffed, which was a small mercy; however, the door had been locked from the outside, so the lack of handcuffs was only a detail. I had been allowed to shower; the jumpsuit I wore fitted well enough vertically, but bagged out on me like a clown suit. Still, it was clean and dry.

I knew the newcomer immediately, of course. More to the point, I knew her, all the details of her power. The spot of light resided in her now. Immediately, I began to learn all about guns. Weapons of all sort, to be honest, but guns seemed to be a really, really big part of it. I knew how they worked, what made them fail, and a host of other things about them. And perhaps most interestingly, I found that I could recall every single aspect of the fight with Sophia in the most exacting detail.

"Hi?" I greeted Miss Militia. "Am I under arrest, or ...?"

"Your status is, at the moment, fluid," she replied bluntly. "You attacked a Ward, assaulted her in a potentially lethal manner. You also caused her secret identity to be exposed to other students in the school. The criminal charges resulting from such an act are quite severe."

"But I didn't mean to do that bit," I protested. "I didn't force her to use her powers."

"Did you know she had powers when you attacked her, using powers of your own?" she asked.

I nodded. "I can feel when people have powers. They have to be fairly close. But I know who I can tap powers from, and who I can't."

"Are you using your powers right now?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Who are you tapping from?"

I held up my hand, opened it to show her a small pocket knife. "Doesn't it feel really weird to know that you're armed every second of the day?" I asked her, placing the tiny weapon on the table between us.

I had not even considered attacking Miss Militia, of course. For a start, she was a real hero, just as Velocity was. She'd been a founding member of the Wards, and had since gone on to serve with distinction in the Protectorate. Plus, as much as I knew about her powers - and I knew a lot - I felt a lot less confident about trying to overpower her with my borrowed powers. She'd had decades to learn how to get it right. And finally, even if I managed to get the drop on her, I did not doubt that the room would fill with containment foam instants after I tried something.

Besides, it wasn't her that I had the grief with.

She shrugged slightly. "I got over it. It's been a very long time. Since I was younger than you are." She paused for a moment. "So, why did you assume that Sophia was the one who had shut you in the locker?"

"Because it's her style," I told her bitterly. "There's three of them. Emma Barnes, Madison Clements, and Sophia. Emma does the stuff that hurts my feelings, Madison thinks up pranks, and Sophia does the physical stuff. Like tripping me down stairs, or throwing all my clothes in the shower. Trust me, this is not the first incident. Or the second. Or the tenth. They do this to me all the fucking time."

Miss Militia frowned. "I had to deal with a little hazing, as a female Ward, who didn't speak English all that well, when I started … "

I had to laugh; it came out bitter, harsh. "This is not hazing." Shaking my head, I continued. "You know, I used to dream about calling you guys up, having you come in and stop them all. I never thought that involving superheroes would make this worse."

Her frown deepened. "Here's my problem. Your story sounds convincing. Very convincing. But then, so do theirs. And Sophia Hess is a Ward. So, against your word, and the evidence of the locker, we have the word of a superhero and two other students. You see how this puts us between a rock and a hard place."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, you and every goddamn teacher at Winslow!"

She seemed taken aback. "Beg pardon?"

I got up from the chair. It probably looked bad, but I was so agitated that I had to move, to pace.

"It's the story I get every single goddamn time I try to complain. My word against theirs. Emma Barnes is the most popular girl in school, so when her friends back her up, and I've got no-one to back me up, guess who they believe? Shit!" I slammed my hands on to the back of my chair. "Why would you be any different? You're all the same."

"Calm down," she advised me. "Acting out in this manner will only make you look worse."

I took a deep breath. Tears were running down my cheeks. "Why the hell should I? Nothing I say or do matters. I'm a liar, I'm not to be believed. She's won. Again. No evidence I show matters, or counts."

"Well, no," she agreed. "Anything that you tell us about what she is supposed to have done will easily be countered by her own testimony that she did not." Her eyes were full of sympathy; I felt that she wanted to help me, but did not know how.

I stopped. Stared at her.

"How about … written testimony?" I asked carefully.

She frowned again. "If you write something out, it's the same as saying it … " she ventured.

I shook my head. "No. Previously written testimony."

She tilted her head. "That could work. Do you have something like that?"

I nodded. "I need to make a call."

"Hello, this is the Dockworker's Association. Danny speaking."

"Dad, it's me."

"Taylor? What's the matter? Why aren't you attending class?"

"Dad, I have a problem. I need your help. Please."

I sensed the change in the tone of his voice. "What do you need?"

"I need you to go home, and go to my bedroom. There's a stack of papers in my wardrobe, on the second shelf ..."

Director Piggot leafed through the sheets. "And Miss Hebert had no time alone to write this all up?"

Miss Militia shook her head. "She did not. She simply had her father fetch them from home."

Piggot turned over a few more pages. "And this is just from September. Christ."

"According to her, the bullying has been going on since the previous September."

Director Piggot tapped the pages. "Shadow Stalker became a Ward at almost the same time as this particular record begins. This is where our responsibility lies."

Miss Militia nodded. "I need to ask Shadow Stalker some stringent questions."

"You realise that she will simply tell you what she thinks you need to know."

"I know. I'll ask her anyway."

I looked up as the armoured figure entered my room. Wavy brown hair, red and gold armour …

"Oh, hi," I greeted him. "Kid Win, right?"

He nodded. "Miss Militia's tracking stuff down, so she asked me to sit in with you. You being a Trump and all, I was the one they had to worry least about."

As the nearest cape, the spot of light zeroed in on him. I didn't force it to stop.

Immediately, his power started talking to me, building designs and constructs in my mind. "Wow."

"Wow what?" he asked.

"Your power. It's really cool."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well. It's not the greatest. I have trouble finishing projects."

I frowned. "No, really. What's the best thing you've built so far?"

"A flying skateboard. But I've got it half pulled apart, because I needed to use the parts in something else."

I could see the flying skateboard, envisage it, see the schematics in my head.

"So you don't know your speciality yet?" I asked.

"Not really," he grumbled. "I've built all sorts of cool stuff, but none of it seems to really work better than anything else, or is easier to build, or anything."

"Maybe it's not a thing," I suggested, listening to the non-voice. "Maybe it's a way to build stuff."

He turned to me, his frown visible behind the visor. "I'm not sure what you're getting at."

I waved my hands. "Maybe you need to be able to take your stuff apart, to use the parts in different gadgets. Plug and play, that sort of thing. Multiple use?"

His eyes opened really wide. "Modular?"

I nodded. "That's the word. Look, what have you built so far? Let's go over them one at a time, and see how they could be done modular."

He grinned. "Okay."

"Shadow Stalker, I need to speak to you. Now."

"Can't it wait? I'm kind of busy. I need to get back to school."

"Now," repeated Miss Militia implacably.

Shadow Stalker came to a reluctant halt. "What about?"

"The girl we brought in. Taylor Hebert. Did you lock her in her locker?"

"No, I already told you that!" she protested.

"And yet she says you did."

"That's because she's a liar," Sophia snapped.

"You're very ready with that accusation," Miss Militia observed mildly. "What would you say if I said I was inclined to believe her?"

"That you've been taken in," Sophia told her immediately. "That she's manipulative and deceptive. She tells all sorts of stories about me and Emma and Madison. No-one believes them any more."

"None of the teachers we spoke to mentioned her telling any stories," Miss Militia pointed out softly. "And the locker was no story, no lie." She fixed her gaze on Shadow Stalker. "She also mentioned valuables going missing from her locker. She thought someone was figuring out her locker code, but there are other ways to bypass a locked door. Aren't there, Shadow Stalker?"

"If you're going to accuse me, accuse me," snapped Shadow Stalker.

"I don't need to," Miss Militia told her. "Hand me your phone, please."

"What?" blurted Shadow Stalker. "My phone?"

Miss Militia nodded. "Your phone."

"But this is my personal, private -"

"You're on probation. You don't get to have personal or private anything. Hand it over. Now."

Wordlessly, reluctantly, Shadow Stalker handed over the phone.

" - and if you rebuild it so the power source can be plugged in via the socket we've put in the rear quarter," I told him, "the whole thing could be broken down and the power supply and the lift panels could be reused at a moment's notice."

"Holy shit," he murmured, looking at the schematic he was projecting on the wall from a small device on his gauntlet. "That could work. That could really work."

I nodded. "Of course it will work. We're Tinkers. Mere physics has to run and hide when we come around."

The door opened, just as we started laughing; I didn't hear it.

"Well," I heard from behind me, "you're less distraught than I thought you'd be."

I stopped laughing and spun around.

"Dad!" I was out of my chair and running into his arms.

"They told me what happened, kiddo," he told me, holding me tightly.

I held him just as tightly. "I bet they didn't tell you everything."

"I just bet," he agreed. He looked at Kid Win. "Hello. Are you the guard?"

The armoured Ward grinned disarmingly. "Hardly. Just giving her someone to talk to. It's been educational."

"Learning something of how a Tinker does stuff, huh, Taylor?" he teased me gently.

"Actually, it's the other way around," Kid Win confessed. "Your daughter just schooled me in the use of my own power. I'm very impressed."

There was a knock on the door, and then it opened to reveal Miss Militia. "Mr Hebert, Miss Hebert, the Director will see you now."

I looked at Dad. "Shall we?"

He nodded, taking my arm.

"So," he commented as we exited the drab, bare room. "What's this about you having powers anyway ...?"

The Present

"We have some idea of what she's done to you," admitted Piggot. "Your written record, correlated with texts she has sent back and forth, seems to present solid evidence." She paused. "But that's not what we're here to talk about."

"So what are we here to talk about?" I asked.

"A very delicate matter," admitted Director Piggot. "You are a Trump; you tap into the powers of whatever cape is near to you at the moment, correct?"

I nodded. "It doesn't have to be the nearest cape, but that's the easiest," I replied.

"Kid Win and Velocity both reported that you seemed to be remarkably quick at grasping the uses of their respective powersets," observed Miss Militia. "Who are you drawing from, now?"

"Kid Win, actually," I told her. "He's still in range. We were conferring on how to make his Tinker work more effective -"

I cut myself off. They were staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

Velocity pointed at the pad in front of me. I hadn't even been aware of holding the pen or drawing with it, but the top page was covered in an intricate diagram. I glanced at it, and it became a three-dimensional model in my mind, complete in every detail.

"Oh." It was all I could say.

"If I could have a look?" prompted Miss Militia.

Velocity slid the pad down to her, and she studied the diagram.

"I ... have no idea what this does, but I'd like to take it to Kid Win," she requested.

I nodded; she tore off the page and carefully folded it, before placing it in a pocket. "Director, I will restate what Velocity and Kid Win have already mentioned. She grasps the nuances of our powers very quickly indeed."

Her tone was so unexpected, so full of praise, that I blushed furiously. Dad squeezed my hand.

"Well, then. Miss Hebert."

I looked around at the Director. "Yes, ma'am?"

"In light of the evidence which has been presented, it seems clear that you are not at fault here. There will be no charges laid for the assault on Shadow Stalker, or the potential unmasking of a Ward."

I raised a hand. "I kinda got outed too."

She nodded. "We have people talking to those students and teachers. Believe me, they are being warned in no uncertain terms to keep their mouths shut over the whole affair."

Dad raised his head. "And are we being warned to shut up, too? Taylor was victimised for over a year. By your Ward. Where is her compensation coming from?"

Piggot looked uncomfortable again. "That was an ongoing situation that we accidentally inherited. Were I you, I would take it up with the school, and the parents of the children involved."

"But you're at least partially responsible for letting it go on," I argued.

She nodded. "And in recognition of that, as I said, we're dropping all legal consequences for what could have been a very serious offence. Also ..." She took a breath. "I would like to kindly ask you if you would like to join the Brockton Bay Wards program."

I looked at Dad. He looked at me. I took a deep breath.

"No." I paused. "Actually, let me rephrase that.

"Hell no."

End of Part 2