The steady tick-tock of the clock and the machine-gun clatter of keys filled the air of the small office. Not the director’s, never the director’s, but temporarily… An email sent, condolences to Mrs. Tagg and her children. Another a minute later to Dr. Yamada regarding the Wards’ therapy schedule for the coming week. Another, and another, and another.
The chair creaked as Callum Renick leaned back in his seat, taking a moment away from his screen to shut his eyes. He wiped his brow and grimaced at the clammy feeling of his sleeve, already soaked. There was no relief from the pervasive heat and sickening humidity, and there wouldn’t be for a while.
Enough of a break, there was still too much work to do. Another request for reinforcements, reply to a media query about Skitter’s status, a casualty report mercifully short. For the third time in three months, Renick was back in the position of acting director of the PRT ENE. He’d still refused the chair when they offered the position not three hours after Tagg was dead, despite promises of protection and a substantial raise. It simply wasn’t worth it, not with the threats that existed in Brockton Bay.
He could hardly believe the last twenty-four hours, but here he was scheduling a statement regarding Alexandria’s death, followed by a call with the local prosecutor to get an expedited hearing on the books. He didn’t want Skitter in this building a second longer than he had to keep her, sedated or not.
His first bit of good news only came an hour after the technical end of his shift. The Butcher was dead and the Teeth broken, at least if the Undersiders were to be believed. Miss Militia made the report, so he was inclined to think it was legitimate. The Undersiders were criminals and, like their ringleader, needed to be arrested and ideally thrown in the ‘cage. At the same time, he could at least afford to let them wear themselves out with villain infighting. It wasn’t help, but it was still helpful; breathing room.
A response from the prosecutor: death sentence had been vetoed but he was going to push hard for the Birdcage. Considering the shit she’d done since Leviathan hit, saying nothing of killing one of the Triumvirate, it was practically a done deal. Skitter’s apparent lawyer had been hounding Renick since he’d sat down today, and another email came in flagged high priority and titled ‘My Client’s Rights are Being Trampled On’; sentiment worthy of an eye-roll.
A knock at the door drew his attention, and Renick reached for the pistol concealed under his desk. No meetings scheduled, and most everyone else should have gone home by now. He doubted the Undersiders were foolish enough to attack just two days after they’d failed, but he thought the same before the assault generally. Couldn’t be too cautious.
“Come in,” Renick called, gripping the pistol firmly.
“Apologies for the late call, sir,” Defiant said as he opened the door and strode in. Renick sighed and let his weapon go.
“No need to apologize, Defiant,” he replied with a shrug. “Unless you’re bringing me bad news.
“No sir.” he replied flatly.
“Well, go ahead then.”
“Skitter is currently being held and sedated to prevent her from using her power, that’s correct?” Renick gave Defiant a nod. “Then we have an offer: put Skitter in our custody. Dragon and I have a variety of countermeasures available and we can ensure she’s isolated from any rescue attempts. It would also allow her lawyer to contact her remotely and prevent any contingencies she has planned here from triggering.” He sized up the man silently.
“No such thing as a free lunch,” Renick said dryly. “I think we worked together long enough for you to give me the professional courtesy of letting the other boot drop.” Defiant stiffened, but nodded and placed a thick stack of papers on the desk. Renick sighed and shook his head. “The short version, please.”
“Future truce terms for Brockton Bay,” Defiant explained as Renick began leafing through the document. “An attempt to get some kind of peace out of the last several months. We both know this is unsustainable, the villains do too. They agree, rather than outright war against each other, we should be focused on the more serious threats: the Endbringers, the Nine, and so on.”
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“Don’t tell me this is about that apocalypse crap I’ve been hearing,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t trust the word of a drug-addled child and the accessories to her kidnapping.”
“Her prediction has been confirmed by a variety of Thinkers,” Defiant countered. “Whether you trust Dinah Alcott and the Undersiders or not, the future doesn’t change; except that there may be fewer parahumans around to prevent whatever is coming.” Renick let out a long, slow breath.
“And so you want us to let them be,” he finished the unspoken conclusion.
“Simply a step back from how things have escalated,” Defiant said, shaking his head. “Status quo ante bellum.”
“Post bellum,” Renick snapped. “I wish things were going back to how they were, but we both know the gangs have too much power.”
“The Undersiders are at least willing to negotiate,” he offered. “More than the ABB or Empire ever were, and I don’t believe they’re worse than either.”
“Never thought I’d hear you go to bat for villains,” Renick muttered.
“Times have changed sir,” Defiant replied simply. “There are worse things in the world than a few kids playing cape.”
“Those ‘kids’ are tearing holes between worlds,” he retorted. “One of those ‘kids’ just killed the last director and a member of the Triumvirate.”
“And she’ll face justice,” he said. “We should remember what justice looks like, Callum.” There was a long, heavy silence.
“So I agree to this and you hold Skitter til her trial?” Renick asked.
“No,” Defiant replied. “Whether you agree to consider the truce or not, we are willing to hold Skitter for you. I want you to consider this though, consider what going to war has won the PRT, compared to everything lost.” He sighed.
“Have Dragon send the transfer paperwork,” Renick said. “You’re both Guild affiliates, right?”
“We are sir,” Defiant said.
“Good. As soon as it’s approved, get her out of the building. I’ll forward you her lawyer’s emails, evidence, whatever you need. Any idea where you’ll hold her?”
“Off site,” he offered. “Better that you don’t know exactly sir, just in case.”
“Damn this city,” Renick swore. “That’s sensible, unfortunately. Fine, just keep me apprised would you? Sick of getting blindsided.”
“Of course deputy director,” Defiant said with a nod. “Thank you for your time. Please consider that proposal sir. Even if it’s hard to stomach, better the little devil you know than Satan tearing open the ground under your feet.”
“Never took you for a religious man,” he said, arching a brow.
“The imagery seems apt, with monsters like the Nine and Echidna around.”
“How’s the hunt going, on that note?”
“They’ve gone to ground for now,” Defiant said. “But they’ve been making their way south, hitting small towns along the way. As soon as we pick up Skitter, we’ll move her and resume our pursuit.”
“Good luck,” Renick said, rising and sticking out his hand. “And give them one from me, would you?”
Defiant took his hand and shook it with a nod. Without another word, the man turned on his heel and strode from the office, the door slamming shut behind him. Renick sat down with a sigh, staring at the paperwork in front of him. This god damn city… He began leafing through it again, paying careful attention to the details. If Defiant believed in this, the man who’d spent half his life trying to clean up Brockton Bay, he ought to at least consider it seriously.
It wasn’t quite as ridiculous as things first sounded. The Undersiders and Ambassadors would essentially take control of the city’s underworld, acting as a pseudo-police force. No details about how they would make their money, but between traditional crime and the newly-opened portal, Renick could make some assumptions.
There were terms for the enforcement of laws against the Undersiders and Ambassadors, terms of limited engagement, formalized truces for fighting Endbringers and other S-class threats… It seemed whoever put this together either genuinely believed in the idea, or was a damn good snake oil merchant. Considering the villains in this city, he couldn’t be certain of which.
It wasn’t quite the absolute armistice Renick had expected. Hell, in light of the last few weeks it seemed downright reasonable. The problem was, he knew that was only because the city had been sliding towards condemnation like Gary. Unlike Tagg or Piggot, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let the city burn to snub the villains. They were his enemy, no doubt, but they were trying to preserve his home.
“God dammit,” Renick swore to no one in particular, leaning back in his chair. A moment later, he leaned forward and began reading the terms again.
Renick wondered if he’d ever deal with anyone but devils anymore.