21

"Damn you Sophia!" - Speech

'Why, Emma?' - Thought

Beta'd by BigCC

Droplet 3.2

The Next Day

Laboratory, SS Nevermore, Boat Graveyard

+++Taylor Hebert/Riptide+++

"I have to say, it looks quite good on you, Augury." I couldn't help but nod appreciatively as I took in my work.

I was also quite glad that I'd included full articulation in the neck of the 'builder exosuit' I'd finished building last night for on-base wear. Looking like a deep blue, full-body jumpsuit augmented by a number of minor pieces of machinery and attachments, it was designed to be easy to put on, comfortable enough to wear and work in for long periods without issue, and very difficult for anyone but the person wearing it to remove. It would not only allow me to tinker to my heart's content without having to worry about my house guest or anyone else accidentally stumbling in and uncovering my identity (though it didn't conceal my gender like my armor did but that was a small price to pay for freedom of movement) but had several inbuilt tools to help with my work, servo-muscles that multiplied my strength by a factor of three and a small pair of concealed, wrist-mounted water dart launchers for emergency defense.

Dinah/Augury blushed slightly; the effect still visible thanks to the half-face mask she was wearing. I'd based the majority of her outfit largely around the more traditional depictions of the Grecian Pythia, or the Oracle of Delphi as they were more commonly known. The base was a white bodysuit with a thin layer of kevlar integrated into it on the molecular level. It wasn't much but it should be enough to keep most pistol rounds and normal knives from doing more than bruising, and the soles of the suit were thick and durable enough that she could go around barefoot without any issue…not that I hadn't included shoes into her costume.

I had. They were metal ones designed to resemble Grecian sandals made from multiple thin bands of interconnected, bronze-colored metal that went half-way up her knees. Comfortable to wear and walk in for hours while still being sturdy enough to bounce a bullet.

Then there were the robes themselves. Yes, robes. Multiple layers of robes colored either in bronze or red and made from a slightly thinner version of the bodysuit's material. Each layer covered the important bits and layered over each other to cover additional parts while creating a visual effect that I thought looked quite nice. Finishing it off was the red shawl that covered the majority of her head. Most pictographs and images of the Pythia had her wearing a very distinctive shawl. Rather than being another layer of Kevlar-infused cloth, the shawl was actually made using a relatively new creation of mine: Memory Metal.

It was a unique metal that could shift from a solid to a liquid state when it was exposed to a very specific electrical frequency. While in its liquid state the liquid metal could be programmed to automatically solidify itself into a number of pre-programmed shapes or items (shields, barriers, weapons and so on) when it was exposed to another electrical frequency. It could even be set to have specific properties while in specific states, like retaining a cloth-like malleability without losing durability while in 'shawl' form.

I hadn't included any weapons yet, though I did have a couple ideas for something she could carry for self-defense. Something to work on later if she likes the outfit…

"This…this is really high-quality." the young Tinker muttered, looking flustered. "B-But you do know that I'll probably outgrow it in…like…three months? I've had to go clothes shopping constantly recently."

"Took that into account." I stated with a little bit of a smirk at that. "The fabric used to make that is a special adjustable memory fabric I got from a friend of mine, it's designed to stretch and adjust for your growth over a sustained period. Unless you turn into an amazon overnight, they should last you for at least a year before they hit their limits."

That fabric had actually been a gift from Dodge, Toybox's way of apologizing for even their fringe involvement in the attempted abduction. Toybox did not want to be associated with anyone who played fast and loose with the Unwritten Rules; that was a one-way ticket to getting a target placed on your back by both heroes and villains alike.

"W-Wow…" Augury murmured in awe, taking another look at her costume. "B-But there's no way I can pay for this!"

"Don't worry about it, I'm doing this for my benefit as much as yours. I need your uncle to take me seriously when I claim that you're a Cape, and you showing up in a proper costume will only help with that." I countered simply. "Besides, every Cape needs to have a decent costume. Even the rear-liners who are never supposed to see a fight like you need to have at least some kind of protection, just in case someone tries something stupid. I already promised that I'd look after you while you're in my care, Augury, so just consider this another part of me staying true to my word."

The girl swallowed loudly. "I…thank you. You…you didn't…you don't have to…."

"I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror and be able to call myself a hero if I didn't try to help someone in trouble." I told her gently, before smirking a bit. "It just so happens that I am uniquely suited to help you in this case. That and I loathe bullies, and the bastard behind sending those mercs after you looks to be the worst type of bully I've ever seen, which puts them right at the top of my shitlist."

Seriously, sending a team of fully armed and trained mercenaries after a single preteen girl…as much as the cowardice of that kind thing grated on me, it told me a lot about the guy pulling the strings behind Dinah's attempted kidnapping. Whoever did this obviously valued obedience and anonymity over Parahuman powers. A single mercenary Cape could have done the job with less risk of being noticed but would have also been harder to control and easier to track.

However, the fact that the mercs had managed to find her hiding place almost immediately after entering the house had to be the result of a Parahuman power. Whoever was behind this, it was likely he wouldn't trust an outside cape to track his target if he wouldn't trust one to grab her as well. That meant one of two things: 1) The Boss was a Parahuman, and it was his power that had allowed his goons to track Dinah. 2) They'd already pulled this shit before and already had some other cape under their thumb like they'd wanted to do with Dinah.

I was leaning toward option one right now, since it would be a serious risk to try and use a captured Parahuman to try and catch another, but I wasn't going to dismiss the second option yet.

As for the power involved itself…the most likely options would be either a Thinker or Tinker power of some kind. A Tinker with the right specialty could likely whip up some form of surveillance gear that couldn't be noticed by normal people or some kind of tracking device, but the fact that they'd bothered to buy those Tinkertech laser attachments from Toybox to bolster their henchmerc's firepower made me doubt that. Unless their Tinker powers were stupidly overspecialized in something inoffensive, they could have easily equipped their goons with their own gear and not have taken a risk of someone being able to use the connection to Toybox to try and track them down. It could have been a camouflage attempt, but that honestly sounded a bit too convoluted to be realistic.

So that meant that it was likely a Thinker targeting Dinah, another Thinker. So why?

Amphitrite had been able to list three possible reasons after a short period of searching her databanks, based on the circumstance.

First, Dinah's power was somehow interfering with their own and they wanted to get their hands on her in order to find out exactly why. I'd immediately discarded this one almost immediately on the grounds that it didn't fit with how this bastard operated. This mastermind-wannabe had been completely willing to toss aside the Unwritten Rules, the most basic set of moral boundaries Parahumans operated under, in order to get their hands on Dinah. Someone like that wouldn't try and kidnap Dinah if they saw her as an obstacle or interference, they'd have just arranged an 'accident' for her or simply had one of their mercs put a bullet through her head and been done with it.

Second, they needed Dinah's power specifically for some project or goal. More likely, but not the one I was willing to bet on. The amount of risk they were willing to take, kidnapping a figure as public as the mayor's niece while violating the Unwritten Rules to do so, simply didn't stack with someone after a single objective. I couldn't think of any goal that would require Dinah's unique form of precognition that would be worth the kind of heat they'd be under if they were caught.

Third, and the one I was personally betting on, was that they had a power that was somehow highly compatible with Dinah's and believed that they could gain greater benefit from using them synergistically. That certainly meshed with what else with what I'd learned about this bastard so far, their penchant for control in particular. Even a normal person could make a lot of use of Dinah's powers, but someone with a Thinker power that helped them pick the right questions for the right time? That could make someone just short of omniscient.

And thanks to Dinah's power having that stupid auto-answering compulsion, it would be simplicity itself to force her to comply. As for her headaches, someone unscrupulous could easily addict her to a hell-brew of drugs to temporarily numb them to get her over the worst pain. And that's just with regular Class-A drugs; access to any kind of Tinkertech concoction would possibly be more effective and even more addictive.

Curling my lip at the thought, I once more swore to die before letting someone do that to me. Then a formula appeared in my mind...a broad-spectrum drug flushing solution? Designed to both destroy any drugs within the patient's body and cleanse the areas of the brain afflicted by the addictive natures of drugs; even caffeine, nicotine and alcohol weren't exempted from this counter-drug. As one would expect, the effect on Tinkertech drugs varied, but it would work.

Making a mental note to myself to prepare a dozen vials of that at some point, I returned my attention to Dinah.

"Now since you're not going to be a street Cape, there are a lot of people who'd say giving you a weapon would be pointless…but I am not one of them. Just because you're not going to go looking for a fight, doesn't mean a fight won't ever come looking for you." I offered. "Now, as you might have guessed already, my Tinker Specialty is water-based tech. To be more specific, anything that has to do with water, I can make. I've already had a couple of ideas for something you can carry and use easily, but I was wondering if there was anything specific you wanted?"

"Something…something to make up for the fact that I'm so small." Dinah offered after a moment, determination steeling her voice. "Something that can protect me and let me capture anyone who tries to attack me."

Humming, I focused on picking something that fit those criteria. One blueprint sprung to mind at once, and I grinned to myself. Yeah, I could definitely work with that.

"Alright, I think I've got just the thing in mind." I stated with a nod. "Just have some faith in Riptide to provide you with just what you need. In the meantime, you can get changed out of your costume and I'll have Salacia escort you back to the living quarters and fix you something proper to eat."

I mentally patted myself for including a cooking protocol into Salacia's programming. My tinkering kept me so busy that I couldn't really see myself cooking for myself without getting distracted and burning whatever it was I was trying to make; and living off take out, cereal and Pop Tarts was just plain unhealthy. I was also thankful that I remembered to build a small kitchen as well.

As Dinah scampered off at the promise of real food, I couldn't help but shake my head in wry amusement. I had been even worse back when puberty was starting to work its terrible magic; it had seemed like I couldn't go a day without banging into something, knocking something over or just tripping over my own feet. God, I'd been a mess back then, all long gangling limbs and over-sized feet and…

Not that I looked all that different now.

Wrenching my mind away from my body-image issues, I refocused on the task at hand and headed toward my workbench. I wanted to get Dinah's weapon ready as quickly as possible, as well as quickly put together the machinery needed to synthesize and mix the cleansing drug I'd thought of earlier. The fact that I needed to get all that done and still have time to get home and catch a few hours of rest before getting the place ready for Kurt and Lacey coming over tonight.

Honestly, trying to keep up a life outside of being a hero was a lot of work, and I knew it would only get tougher once Dad got back home from the conference. Dad wasn't a particularly nosy or suspicious person, but he always did like to poke around the house after he'd been gone for more than a day or two, just to make sure the old place wasn't falling to pieces without him. I'd have to take a few precautions to make sure he didn't stumble onto the little…additions I'd made to the basement. Urgh, just another thing to add to my ever-expanding 'to do' list. All on top of protecting the mayor's niece from a mysterious supervillain that didn't seem to care about violating the Unwritten Rules, building up my base's defenses in case we were ever discovered, working on my anti-Leviathan armor, building Salacia a combat exoskeleton, practicing with my hydrokinesis and of course continuing to work on my commission with Toybox.

Thankfully, I had just gotten another shipment of materials from Toybox just the other day, so Salacia should be able to finish putting together the skeleton of the submersible campervan within the next few days. After that I could take over handling the internals, where most of finicky, overly complicated Tinkering that made a Tinkertech vehicle special were located. Once I got all the Tinkertech aspects done, the rest of the machine was basically just a regular camper, something Salacia could assemble on her own using the engineering subroutines I'd installed.

The work would be well worth it, the commission that Toybox had deposited into my Waterworks account for just accepting the job had had enough zeroes that it had made me feel faint. The final payday would be enough to keep me happily Tinkering without monetary concerns for some time to come.

Smiling to myself at the thought, I started to Tinker.

+++Augury/Dinah Alcott+++

Later

Dinah watched on as her…rescuer? Savior? Current landlady?...as Riptide worked; bent over a workbench, fiddling with something that looked a lot like a fancy staff. She blinked in surprise as she seemingly spritzed a small amount of liquid on it, causing the formerly steel gray metal to rapidly shift to a bronze color akin to that of her new costume.

Dinah had left shortly after changing back into her normal clothes (which had been cleaned and repaired from everything that happened in less than twenty minutes! They now looked even better than when they were brand new!) before following the robot lady (Salacia!) to a late 'Brunch' of fresh hotcakes with maple syrup and butter all washed down by a pitcher of fresh orange juice (Who knew robots could cook so well!?) before returning to watch as her hero prepared a new weapon, just for Dinah. Though that wasn't all she seemed to be doing, it honestly looked like she was bouncing between three projects at once. One was the staff that she guessed was the base of her weapon, another was a weird boxy thing with different little trays and containers connecting to a weird little carousel thingy via a series of tubes, and the third was a small machine that kinda looked like her mother's fancy 'cappuccino' maker that was hooked up to a bigger machine that had already been there when she first arrived and seemed to make little cartridges that looked just a bit thinner than the width of the staff. The looked like they were…filled with water?

'She did say that her specialty was water-based tech.' Dinah reasoned quietly. With the Endbringer Leviathan around, only a complete idiot would dismiss how dangerous water-based powers could be, and she'd seen witnessed what Riptide's tech could do for herself when she'd demolished that entire group of mercenaries with her Tinkertech battle armor (or whatever she called it). Granted, she hadn't seen any of the actual fighting (stupid bag), but she'd been conscious enough to hear what had been going on and see the aftermath before she'd passed out and that had been plenty.

Forcing down the slight shudder that tried to pass through her at that particular memory, Dinah instead focused on wondering what exactly the staff-looking thing would do.

"And finished!" Riptide declared proudly, the voice changer in her suit adding a metallic, echoey effect to their voice. She then turned and quickly caught sight of Dinah before beckoning her over excitedly. "Come on over, we just need to give it a test run now!"

Quickly walking over to the costumed woman, Dinah gingerly accepted her new weapon. It did indeed look like a bronze-colored staff, just a bit shorter than she was tall but surprisingly light in her hand. The tip of the staff was shaped like the open-mouthed form of a hissing snake, with its body inlaid into the staff as it coiled down it.

"Why a snake?" Dinah couldn't help but ask.

"The costume I designed for you was primarily based on a series of ancient Grecian figures in history known as the Oracles of Delphi, who were soothsayers whose advice was often sought by royalty and heroes of ancient legend." Riptide answered. "They were all females and took the ceremonial name of 'Pythia' upon assuming the position of Oracle, though a lot of early historians also referred to her as 'Pythoness.' If you believe the ancient myths surrounding the Grecian Gods, the Sun God Apollo once slew a great beast, a massive serpentine or draconic beast known as the Python, whose blood gave off a sickly-sweet scent after it was slain. The fumes of its blood, which lingered eternally at Delphi, was said to grant the Oracles prophetic visions and insights into the future. So, a snake theme seemed appropriate with your costume."

"I thought you hated PR stuff?" the younger girl asked, vividly remembering the older Tinker's rant about the idiocy of the PRT's PR department earlier during her Power Testing.

"I hate it when PR gets in the way of heroes doing their job." the older girl corrected. "I can accept that a certain amount of PR is necessary to keep Rumor, Gossip and Speculation, the Three Horsemen of Public Opinion, from saddling up and painting every Cape in the field as either a brutal thug or some kind of child soldier. I understand why costumes and names are so important, you're trying to create an image, an idea, that people can understand and trust, so they'll cooperate with you. So having a costume and name that matches a central theme is a good thing because it makes you more easily understood and recognized, whether that is for an individual, or in some cases, entire teams share a common theme or at least try to make sure their themes don't clash."

"The Protectorate doesn't do that." Dinah noted curiously.

"No, team costumes and themes are generally pretty rare save for Private or even Corporate Teams in the U.S.; it's a lot more common in foreign countries." Riptide answered with a sigh. "That's because the Protectorate is big on inclusivity and diversity, trying to get as many capes as they can to sign up. You can't do that if you lock all your Capes into a single theme or design; instead, you promote individualism and creativity in naming and costume design to try and make your teams seem as diverse and welcoming as possible to show that 'anyone can be a hero.' Anyway, let's get back on track. See the handle of your staff, take a good look and you'll find three buttons just above where your thumb should rest."

Inspecting the handle, she did indeed find three small buttons set into a triangular formation near the top of the handle, each with a symbol raised up on the metal. The top one was perfectly smooth, the right one had what looked like a web or net, and the left had a circle.

"Obviously, each will activate a different function of the staff." the Tinker explained, indicating each button in turned as she explained each in detail. "The top one causes it to emit a field that bends the water in the air around you to create what is basically an invisibility field, but it works best at night or when you're standing still. The right one will cause the snake's mouth to fire a small bolt of water that will expand into a binding band around whatever it hits on impact. A normal person will be hard pressed to break free but anyone with even just above-average strength or some real training will be able to break it with a bit of time and effort. The left one will generate a shield of water around you. The shield is strong enough to handle sustained assault rifle fire for several minutes without issue, but it will burn through an entire water cartridge to activate it once."

Taking the staff back, Riptide indicated the snake head, particularly a small section right under where the lower jaw met the staff head. She pushed in on it and the front half of the upper portion of the staff suddenly slid down, revealing four of those cartridges she'd seen earlier set into it like batteries.

"These are what I call Compressed Water Cartridges, they use something I call 'Magic Bottle' technology to store a large amount of water in a small container. They act as your staff's main ammunition, with each capable of holding about 96 US Gallons, about the same that it would fill a standard bathtub. They are interlinked once you load them in, so that gives you roughly 384 gallons to work with." Riptide then slid the panel closed with a simple movement of her thumb before flipping it over and showing the back of the snake's head where Dinah noticed four small lights embedded in a downward line. "These light up blue when the staff is armed and ready to go and will turn red as each cartridge is emptied. I'll be adding a belt and utility pouch to your costume in a bit that'll hold enough extra capsules that you won't have to worry about running dry in a fight."

"So, I just have to pull out the spent cartridges and slide in a new one?" Dinah asked.

"Yep. Tinkering 101: Always apply the 'Keep It Simple, Stupid' principle when creating something you intend for a non-Tinker to use." Riptide offered as she handed the staff back to its new owner. "Even L33t knows that."

Having heard of the so-called 'Chaos' Tinker's screw-ups, including the now-infamous Grand Theft Auto Incident, Dinah had to agree that if even someone like L33t followed that rule, it had to be a fairly basic practice for Tinkers.

"There's an empty hold down the corridor, fourth down from your left." Riptide pointed out the main door. "I've had Salacia set up a few practice dummies there while you were watching me Tinker. I want you to practice both swinging the staff around as a weapon, I made sure it was sturdy enough that you could swing it into concrete for an hour and it won't damage any of the internals, and with the capture function to get a feel for it. Trying to use a weapon you have no experience with, in a dangerous situation, is just acting for something stupid, painful or both to happen."

"Right." Dinah readily agreed and quickly turned and made her way for the door, staff firmly gripped in hand. She had to practice. Almost being kidnapped had shown her what happened to those unable to fight back; she wouldn't let herself be taken without a fight ever again.

+++Mayor Roy Christner+++

The Next Day

Mayor's Office, Brockton Bay City Hall

"You have to do something, Roy!" Diana Alcott said desperately. "My baby has been missing for nearly a week now!"

"Diana, you know I would if I could, but there is simply nothing I can do." Roy Christner repeated for what felt like the tenth time today. And it wasn't even noon. "Not only was an Independent Parahuman involved in thwarting the initial kidnapping attempt, but the attempted kidnappers clearly had Tinkertech weaponry at their disposal. With both Tinkertech and at least one Parahuman clearly involved with the case, Director Piggot has invoked her authority and had the case fully shifted under the PRT's jurisdiction. I've done what I could to light a fire under them and the BBPD, as well as calling in as many favors as I could to anyone who could possibly help. What more can I do?"

Seated behind his nice, luxurious wooden desk (hand-carved from solid mahogany, it had been a fixture of the Mayor's Office since City Hall had first been built) and on his custom swivel chair (a congratulatory gift from the Stansfield family after he'd won the election for mayor), he couldn't help but sigh as his sister restarted pacing back and forth in front of said desk again. Diana had always been fairly high-strung, even when they were children. She could play the calm, cheery and unflappable housewife and socialite in front of the social circles and press, but she'd always be a mass of nerves before and after every event.

Truthfully, the kidnapping of his niece, Dinah, had left Roy royally stumped about everything involved. He just couldn't see why someone would target Dinah of all people; let alone hire an entire team of mercenaries and equip them with Tinkertech weaponry to do the job. He'd majored in economics in college and liked to think his economic plans had won him the election as much as his sister's PR skills had, and the numbers simply weren't adding up.

He knew that he and his family could be considered modestly wealthy by nearly any standard but totaling up even his most conservative estimates for hiring that many mercenaries, equipping them (with Tinkertech of all things!) and the outfitting that well-disguised armored car/van they'd used as a getaway vehicle added up to a sum far more exorbitant than he or the Alcotts, even combined, could ever hope to pay in terms of ransom.

Even if he'd illegally dipped into the city's discretionary fund wouldn't be able to make it worthwhile, although that was more of a statement on the state of Brockton Bay than the sum of the possible ransom.

And that was just the biggest peculiarity that popped out to him. This new hero of unknown gender, objective and nearly everything else, Riptide, had somehow managed to swoop in like an osprey on a fish and had delivered an extremely thorough beating to the mercenaries involved according to his son Rory. He felt a small flash of satisfaction as he recalled the small laundry list of injuries Panacea had left to heal naturally, only removing those that could become life-threatening if left untreated (almost none) or would have prevented the men from being interrogated (three cracked jaws and a fractured skull).

Had things simply ended there, he would have been far more positively inclined to think of Riptide as an Independent Hero, but then…then the Tinker had taken Dinah and flown off with her, with neither being spotted since!

Again, things simply weren't adding up; it was like he was trying to solve a puzzle while missing half the pieces and the box they came in!

Reaching up, Roy massaged his temples in an attempt to stave off another stress headache. Pulling his left-hand drawer open, he quickly grabbed the bottle of Tylenol he kept there and quickly proceeded to dry-swallow two pills before resealing the bottle and returning it to its place. With how the past few days had been, he was likely going to have to pick up a fresh bottle soon, extra strength this time.

He was used to stress by now, headaches and all. He'd had to get used to it quickly once he took office. He'd been bright-eyed with big dreams when he was first elected, but it had quickly become apparent that, unless something was done soon, the entirety of the city would either explode into an orgy of violence unseen in Brockton Bay since the Slaughterhouse Nine stopped by and forced the Teeth to flee to Boston, or the United States of America would, for the first time in history, be forced to willingly abandon a city for a reason that didn't involve the emergence of a extremely powerful and unstable Parahuman like Nilbog, out-of-control Tinkertech like the Machine Army or an Endbringer.

Brockton Bay would be abandoned because the city was literally dying. With it divided by the ever-growing gap between the rich and poor sections of the city, constantly torn apart by the spastic and unpredictable outbreaks of gang warfare, and completely unable to be saved due to a lack of interest and increasing lack of ability to do so by their nation, Roy honestly didn't think that anything short of a miracle could keep the city standing for more than a few more decades.

No, he'd tried his best to help, but his time in the mayoral seat had proven to him that there was simply no saving the Bay. Once his term was over, he and his family were going to leave for greener pastures, Brockton simply wasn't worth fighting a losing battle for.

"Where's Arthur?" he asked as he waited for the pills to kick in.

"Organizing posters to put up." Diana answered tersely as she continued to pace. He honestly wondered how she hadn't burned a hole through the carpet yet.

"You do realize that that will be next to worthless, yes?" Roy asked not unkindly. "I've said it before, Dinah is probably in the middle of a Tinker's Workshop by now. The chances of anyone catching sight of hide or hair of her are so infinitesimally small that it's barely worth mentioning."

"Then what else are we supposed to do, then!?" his younger sister snarled back at him, rounding on him like some kind of big cat. Her temper always did get short when was particularly stressed. "Sit at home and twiddle our fingers while waiting for the PRT to actually do something?"

"I still say that there is no reason to worry so harshly." he offered, more to soothe his sister's worry and frustration-fueled temper than anything else. "Riptide has shown herself to be of heroic inclinations. They may have only been active for less than a month now, but every capture or incident they've been involved in has been completely above-the-board and with minimum violence outside of what was necessary to capture or incapacitate the criminals involved. Dinah could have been taken for a good reason, medical issues for example."

"Brockton Bay has the world's greatest healer! Panacea could have fixed any issues that could have cropped up that didn't involve the brain in an instant!" Diana snapped. "I do not care why Riptide took her! Her reasons are irrelevant! I want my daughter back and no Parahuman will stop me!"

Turning, the woman stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind her so hard it cracked the plaster next to it. Waiting for half a minute, Roy pressed the button for his intercom.

"Yes, Mr Mayor?" Cindy Pennington, his secretary, answered.

"Cindy, can you call the head janitor please? I think we may need to call for some help to fix the wall near the door." he requested politely.

"Right away, sir. Mister Beauregard should be with you shortly." the woman said instantly. "Should I quickly readjust the City Hall's budget for the work?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions just yet. Mister Beauregard has worked miracles for us before; let us see if he can put in a quick fix before we call in someone." Roy offered with a smile. "If he cannot, I shall pay for it out of my own funds. It was thanks to my...lack of tact, shall we say, that this happened in the first place. It's only right that I pay to clean up the mess."

"As you say, sir." Cindy sounded hesitant. "Sir, you were supposed to have a meeting in ten minutes with Mister Anders about the supply of medicines to the hospitals..."

Closing his eyes, Roy silently cursed. Max Anders, the arrogant young CEO of the Medhall Corporation, the single largest company still active in the Bay, would no doubt offer him an ever-so polite sneer if he caught sight of the damage (and he would, the venial prick was always on the lookout for something he could rub in someone else's face) and offer some thinly veiled comment on how the old building was 'falling down around his ears' or something. Max might well have been far better than his father, Richard Anders (a cold-blooded tyrant of a man according to anyone who'd spoken to him), or his deceased sister, Mary Anders (he'd personally met her and there had been something wrong with that girl), but that didn't make him any more tolerable to be around. Proud, arrogant, ruthless and utterly without any illusions that his company wasn't one of the sole things keeping Brockton Bay afloat, floundering as it may be.

"Have the front desk escort Mister Anders to Conference Room 1 if Mister Beauregard is unable to fix the wall before he arrives." he said after a moment. "Have Nancy and Flora dress it up a little."

"Yes sir. I'll get that organized now. Oh, and Mister Beauregard is here. I'll send him right in." Cindy said, the intercom clicking off as the door opened, revealing the blue boiler suit of the Head Janitor of the City Hall, Matthew P. Beauregard. White receding hair, a large handlebar mustache and bags under his eyes, it was clear he was a busy man expecting the worst.

"What'd she break this time?" he asked without preamble.

Silently, Roy pointed at the wall to the right of the door. Turning to examine the damage, the janitor swore.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." the man growled as he regarded it for a moment before shaking his head. "Sorry sir. Too big to fix for me and my crew. We'll need a plasterer for this."

"As I suspected." the mayor groaned. "Kindly have the room prepped for them. Do you know a firm that can be trusted not to do a botch job?"

"Yep, m'brother's second son. He'll get it done good, or I'll clip 'im around the lughole." Beauregard answered. "I'll give his number to your secretary in a minute."

"Thank you, Mister Beauregard. Please do." Roy sighed as he mentally organized what had to happen. All his knickknacks had to be removed and put into temporary storage, and the filing cabinets had to be locked. Then he'd have to commandeer Conference Room 1 as a temporary office until the plasterer was done fixing the wall, and the painter had covered up the damage to the wall as well. A filing cabinet would do to cover it up afterwards.

Satisfied that he had a temporary plan to handle this little disaster, if not the kidnapping on his niece, the mayor of Brockton Bay reached for the intercom once more to set it in motion.

Times like these honestly made him wonder why he'd ran for the damn office in the first place.