The Law of Averages - Book 2: Chapter 158: A Good Day

The power kicked back on around dawn, but by that time everyone present was ready to sleep. The storm had slowly emptied itself over the last few hours, and though the streets were still flooded, emergency services were out in force. The People—the imposters—were tentatively declared dealt with, albeit in a way nobody was keen to explain to the press. Dan found himself roped into being a soundboard for Rawls, as the man floated various solutions.

“We were obviously meant to find this,” Rawls said, tapping at a flash drive which held a copy of the laptop’s surveillance video of Echo. The original was taken for processing by some federal techies, who would presumably scour it for viruses and other nastiness. Rawls continued, “The question is: What do we do with it?”

Rawls had commandeered one of the warehouse meeting rooms shortly after the building was cleared of threats. He used it like a command center, but at the moment it was just the two of them present. Dan sipped at his water bottle, and rocked from side to side in the surprisingly comfortable rolling chair that had come with the room. He had many questions and few answers. Every conversation with Rawls was a potential minefield. The man was still under the impression that Dan was competent and connected, and Dan would hate to ruin that idealistic image.

“There’s video missing,” Dan pointed out the obvious. “He did that little visual trick with Champion at the end on purpose. It’s bait. He wants you to release it to the public.”

“Which is a win-win for him,” Rawls picked up, “because if we release what we have, even an idiot would realize that it’s a frame job on the People. Echo showing up at the end even supports that narrative; everyone will say he was a fake, just like the rest of them. But if we don’t release anything, we’ll look like the idiots when he pushes the story out himself.”

Dan sighed. “This was somebody’s false flag operation, but it was so poorly executed I can’t help but wonder if it failed on purpose.”

Rawls narrowed his eyes. “I’d very much like to know the answer to that question myself.”

They were interrupted by Rawls phone ringing. He answered it, held a brief conversation, then hung up with a dark expression. He looked to Dan, face twisted into a snarl.

“Echo infiltrated our command tent,” he spat. “I had my guys pull surveillance footage for the past day. The fucker was wandering about completely uncontested, for almost thirty minutes! He pulled this location from our own search grid!”

Dan frowned. “How is that possible? Don’t you guys have countermeasures for this sort of thing?”

“We didn’t have time!” Rawls waved his hand in frustration. “This whole op was rushed. We didn’t have time to set up anything sophisticated. Besides, an infiltration was deemed to be unlikely. What kind of fool would risk it?”

“Echo, apparently.” And successfully, at that. But Dan didn’t bother pointing it out. Rawls was frustrated enough. “Did he get into anything else?”

“Not from what we can tell, but my people are still searching.” Rawls made an incredulous noise. “Apparently, nobody noticed him at the time, but in retrospect everyone seems to recall this person that didn’t quite belong.”

“He’s got some kind of infiltration power,” Dan noted. “Something that makes him fit in. Same reason he was able to just walk in that room while the fake People were monologuing to each other.”

Rawls grumbled under his breath. His chair squeaked, as he leaned backwards. Fingers drummed against the wooden table. “My orders were to capture or kill Champion, and expose the People as the threats that they are. I don’t think I can accomplish either of those goals with what I have to work with, here. The video is too much of a risk, to say nothing of what’s left of ‘Champion’s’ body. I have nothing to give to the press to explain our presence here.”

Dan didn’t even bother to suggest the unvarnished truth. That would be an entirely foreign concept to a man like Rawls, who grew up in a system that encouraged obfuscation and cover-ups. Instead, he said, “Do you need to give details? Can’t you just say an operation was successfully executed to neutralize a group of dangerous criminals?”

Rawls frowned as he considered it. “I don’t think so. There are rumors swirling about Champion’s presence in the city. If we don’t give any solid information, the press will be left to speculate based on our tactics. It won’t take long to make the connection to the People. We used the exact same strategy back in the seventies, when the organization was first outlawed.”

“They’ll make that connection no matter what,” Dan pointed out.

“Yeah,” Rawls agreed with a sigh. “I’m fucked.” He slumped in his chair, seeming to age thirty years in as many seconds. “My strategy, my failure. If we’d gone in hard and fast, we might’ve wrapped this all up before Echo even made an appearance.”

“No telling the collateral damage of something like that,” Dan said. “Especially if you were actually facing the People, and not their… stunt doubles.”

“We’re still finding bodies the fake Cannibal left behind,” Rawls countered. “How many would’ve lived if we’d put them down quick?”

Dan shrugged, having no comfort to give. “No way to know.”

Rawls sighed again. The silence lingered like stale air, drawing out even as bodies rushed to and fro just beyond the enclosed room. Finally, Rawls straightened in his seat. He reached down to his copy of the surveillance flash drive, and slid it across the table to Dan.

Rawls said, “I would greatly appreciate you putting in a good word for me with Lady Summers.”

Dan glanced down at the flash drive, snorted, then stuffed it into his jacket. From there, it dropped into t-space. Rawls was clever. He might’ve found the only path to salvaging his career. Anastasia would certainly be pleased with the gesture.

“Good luck with all this,” Dan said, making a swirling gesture with his finger. “Stay in touch.”

And then he was gone, whisked away to t-space, and then the RED Building, where Anastasia awaited him. But Dan paused before completing the journey. He floated in t-space, exhausted, sore, and generally done with the day. There was more work to come, but what harm was a little break? Dan had never slept in t-space before, but there was a first time for everything.

He leaned back, suddenly pillowed on a cloud of stars. He crossed his arms behind his head, closed his eyes, and did not dream.

_________________________________________

Dan met Anastasia in the RED Building parking lot. He spent most of the wait sweeping the grounds, mildly suspicious that there might be Geists hiding in the bushes or hanging from the ceiling like bats. His paranoia was in vain, however, as he seemed more or less alone, excepting the odd federal employee wandering from their car to work. It was still early morning, and people were only just beginning to arrive.

Dan’s veil pinged off Anastasia’s expensive boots the instant she stepped into the garage. He stomped down hard on his instinctual urge to teleport to her. Surprising the violent, powerful woman was not a good idea. Instead, he waited, leaning against a concrete pillar and watching her approach.

“Newman,” she greeted, once she was close enough for normal speech. “You have something for me?”

Dan had kept her in the loop, more or less. She hadn’t been thrilled to learn that Echo had actually been present, though news of his infiltration powerset had rendered her quiet and contemplative. Now, she was focused; cold and angry. She didn’t even seem tired, despite the fact that she’d been up all night.

Dan handed over the flash drive to her grasping hands, and she said, “Good. Let’s go.” She turned around, and immediately went back towards the RED Building. Dan padded after her, a little befuddled.

“You wanna watch it in there?” he asked.

“Until Dunkirk is processed, I’m not going anywhere,” Anastasia declared. “My answers can only be found within this building.”

They entered through a security door in the back, that popped open without any prompting. Anastasia strolled through like she owned the place, and Dan followed at what he estimated to be a safe distance in case someone started shooting at her. They walked through an immaculately clean hallway and into a stairwell. Anastasia climbed stairs at the relentless pace of a terminator. Dan cheated, and blinked up each flight. After eight floors, she finally veered off, taking an exit door and entering a series of office spaces.

The offices were soundproofed, with full blinders and thick, sturdy doors. Anastasia gestured at the nearest one, and it swung open. There was a man inside, whose face went from surprise, to confusion, to abject terror in the space of a single second. He leapt out of his seat, slipped away from his desk, and held up his hands.

“Mrs. Summers,” he stammered. “How can I—”

“Out.” It was a command, not a request, and the man scurried out of his own office without a single word of protest. He didn’t so much as glance at Dan.

Dan watched him go. “I feel like I should be more surprised.”

“Close the door,” Anastasia said, as she went about the business of opening the flash drive. It didn’t take long to get everything set up, and soon she was running through the surveillance videos. She fast-forwarded it through until the end, her eyes flicking rapidly across the screen. Finally, she paused it, right at the moment where Echo smiled into the camera.

“So. He really was there,” she stated.

Dan nodded. “Seems so.”

Anastasia mouth twisted upwards. It was a cruel thing, like a gash ripped through silk.

“Are you happy about this?” Dan asked. “I can’t tell if that’s a smile, or just some weird facial tic.”

She ignored his habitual prodding in favor of tapping the screen. “This is new to me. This was something hidden.”

“Yeah?” Dan glanced from her, to the screen. “So?”

“He’s given me information that I did not have previously. What did he get in return?”

Dan considered that. What had Echo bought with his infiltration? A little revenge on people mocking Champion’s name? The disruption of a false-flag that probably would have failed anyway? Those men would’ve died anyway, once the feds found them.

“I’m not sure,” Dan admitted.

Anastasia’s cruel smile grew wider.

“This was a mistake,” she said, with grim satisfaction. “His presence in the city. The taunting video. All of it. He acted emotionally, and lashed out. He made a mistake.” She seemed to savor those words more than any meal.

She turned to face him, still smiling that creepy, violent smile. “You did good, Daniel. I’m pleased with the outcome of this arrangement. I will see Dunkirk through to the end, and inform you of anything pertinent. In the meantime, I suggest you run home and kiss my granddaughter. I will handle the rest.”

“That’s awfully generous of you,” Dan said carefully. “Are you sure you’re not sick?”

Anastasia hummed something low in her throat, and for a moment, her expression was almost soft.

“Today was a good day.”