The Law of Averages - Book 2: Chapter 140: Office Politics

Once again, Dan was asked to meet his buddy Cornelius at the bottom of a downtown garage. It was a different one, this time, but equally shady and empty. The last time they’d met like this was half a year ago, before the People had invaded Austin, when Coldeyes’ Crew was still running wild. Dan had delivered a letter to an FBI Field Office at the behest of Cornelius’ brother, and Captain Gable. It had been the first time he’d ever met Agent Dunkirk.

With any luck, this job would have a more positive outcome than the last.

Dan willed himself to the top of the garage, using an overhead picture he pulled from the internet. His veil snaked out, and he quickly found his target: Cornelius and Gregoir were sitting inside Gregoir’s little Volkswagen, parked in the lowest sub-level, as expected. Dan spent a few minutes sweeping the rest of the building, just in case they’d been followed. Once bitten, twice shy as the saying went. Dunkirk had caught them with their pants down; Dan would not let that happen again.

The garage seemed secure enough. No unexpected electronics that he could see, and no realistic way of listening in on their conversations. The acoustics weren’t even that great. Whatever the garage was made of—it looked like concrete, but it pretty obviously wasn’t—it didn’t carry sound well. He couldn’t hear any echoes, not even from outside. Satisfied, Dan willed himself to the bottom floor.

Neither officer so much as flinched at his sudden appearance. The doors of Gregoir’s Beetle were open, and both men were lounging in the extra-wide seats Gregoir had installed. Cornelius waved as Dan arrived, calling out a lazy acknowledgement. Gregoir sat up, climbing free of his car with practiced ease.

“Daniel!” Gregoir greeted with his usual boisterousness. “Thank you for coming, my friend!”

“Gregoir. Cornelius.” Dan nodded to each of them, as the older officer finally extricated himself from the passenger seat. “I hear you need something delivered?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Cornelius replied, absently stretching. There were deep bags under his eyes, and he looked more unkempt than Dan had ever seen him.

“You look like shit,” Dan pointed out.

“Haven’t slept in two days,” Cornelius replied with a shrug. “Someone tried to assassinate Dunkirk.” He dropped that bomb like he was commenting on the weather.

Dan tried to summon up some surprise, but couldn’t manage it. “Is that a problem?”

“It is when it leaves three officers hospitalized,” Cornelius replied with a wry smile. “It’s very much a problem.”

Gregoir nodded solemnly. “It was a close thing. So far as we can tell, someone managed to attach a bomb to the prisoner transport while it was in transit. The guards noticed in time to blunt the worst of the blast, but only just. We got lucky.”

Dan hadn’t seen anything like that on the news, but that was nothing new.

“You must have expected something,” Dan pointed out. “Dunkirk effectively used FBI assets to enable a villain attack. There’s no way he’ll live to talk about it in a courtroom.”

“The thought certainly crossed our mind, though we didn’t expect anything this soon,” Cornelius said. “Not when we’ve been trying to hand him off to the feds all week long.”

Dan furrowed his brow in confusion. “All that effort to catch him, and you’re handing him over?”

“We wanted him off the board,” Cornelius said, with a lethargic shrug, “and we’ve succeeded in that; even if he has some kind of contingency plan to release his blackmail, it won’t matter without him around to signal boost it. Now, he’s a liability. We figured if we stacked enough charges on him, we could pressure whoever’s holding Dunkirk’s leash enough to answer the damn phone, but nope! The FBI is still stonewalling us.”

“So… it’s not the feds trying to assassinate him then?” Dan asked, with what he thought was reasonable confusion. The way he saw it, Dunkirk’s bosses should want him back in their custody, either to silence him or disappear him.

“No, it’s definitely the feds,” Cornelius said, with the sort of certainty that was hard to ignore.

“You sound pretty sure.”

“With the help of Freya’s grandfather, we’ve managed to more or less piece together what is going on,” Cornelius confirmed. “The man who Galeforce brawled with is some kind of FBI asset. We’ve still got him sedated in one of our high-security holding cells. Dunkirk burned him bad, and we’re almost positive it was without the consent of the asset’s handler.”

“An FBI asset got into a brawl with a vigilante that destroyed an entire apartment complex?” Dan asked dubiously.

“Asset: meaning criminal informant,” Gregoir informed him kindly. “He’s a criminal, Daniel, and a quite successful one at that.”

“He doesn’t need to know the details,” Cornelius warned Gregoir, before turning to Dan. “We’re keeping the man. It wouldn’t be right to let him back out on the streets, but his handler probably has some questions for Dunkirk.”

“Then why the assassination attempts?” Dan asked.

“Someone else doesn’t want him to give answers,” Cornelius summarized. He held up his hands, index finger extended on each. “We’re dealing with two factions here. Dunkirk, and whoever was backing him, are part of the first. The second is led by a man named Jeremy Rawls, who heads the Villain Response Unit of the FBI. Our unconscious criminal was ratting out some important people to Rawls. This information was leaked to Dunkirk, or someone in his faction. The rat was discovered to be visiting Austin, right around when Dunkirk needed a distraction. He removes an important informant, and brings back a Genius weapon for his own faction. Two birds, one stone.”

Dan considered that, a growing feeling of icy numbness spreading down his neck, and across his back.

“Office politics?” he said, fighting back the urge to snarl. “All that damage, over office politics?”

“Many more have died for much less,” Gregoir intoned solemnly. “All we can do is seek justice for the dead.”

“Justice— and some considerations for the APD,” Cornelius added. “Having a grateful fed in our pocket would be a big get.”

“That sounds nice,” Dan agreed. “What did you have in mind? Because it sounds like this Rawls guy will want his rat back.”

“We will offer Dunkirk to Rawls,” Gregoir said. “We keep the informant. We cannot allow such a powerful criminal back onto the streets, but Dunkirk should be enough. With his testimony, Rawls can identify the leaks in his faction, and cast dirt on whichever rival gave Dunkirk his marching orders.”

“You’ll deliver a message to Rawls to that effect,” Cornelius picked up where Gregoir left off. “Deliver it to him personally. Catch him out on the street, if you have to; whatever you gotta do to ensure you aren’t overheard. Secrecy is paramount. I won’t lie, there is real danger here, Daniel. You’ll be dealing with someone whose enemies are actively hiring assassins. That said, you should be safe. Your face is unknown, and you aren’t a cop. You won’t flag any of the automatic security alerts that one of us would if we just showed up in D.C.”

“Dunkirk knows me,” Dan pointed out. “He could have talked to his people. They might know my face.”

Cornelius smirked at him. “Your files are locked down tighter than Fort Knox. A little gift from your girlfriend, I assume, or perhaps her grandmother. Even if they know your face, their security systems won’t. You’d have to walk right into someone in Dunkirk’s faction who had memorized your face, and then admit to them the reason why you’re there. Even your luck isn’t that bad.”

“I guess not,” Dan admitted. He thought over what preparations he might need to make. “When do you want this done?”

“As soon as possible.” Cornelius reached into his jacket, and pulled out a manila envelope. “We’ve given you the broad strokes so that you aren’t caught off guard if he asks you questions. We’ve outlined the deal we’re willing to make, but transportation will have to be a coordinated effort. This isn’t just a delivery job, Daniel. We’re asking you to act as a back channel between the APD and the FBI.”

“I still don’t get why you can’t just call him,” Dan pointed out, but his heart wasn’t in it. His mind was already elsewhere, planning out how he was going to stumble upon Jeremy Rawls. He briefly considered asking Anastasia to ferry a message for him, but that way led to a gruesome end. He disregarded the idea.

“We know he has a leak,” Gregoir replied. “He must. Criminal informants are jealously guarded. Dunkirk could not have gained that information without some kind of subterfuge. We will not risk compromised communications. Too many things could go wrong, at the cost of our officer’s lives. You are trusted, Daniel. You are relatively unknown, and you are extremely capable. We believe you can accomplish this task safely, but we would all understand if you were to decline.”

It was an out, clear as anything. Dan ignored it. There was still anger in him, but also resolve. This was something he could do. It was a goal he could get behind.

“Fuck Dunkirk,” Dan decided. “Fuck him, and anyone who helped him. I’ll do it.”