[center][h2]First Timothy 6:10[/h2][/center]
No sooner did ℝoot commit to the act, than did her computer present her the opportunity to make good on her word. A ping from an algorithm monitoring the city's hacked CCTV network detected escalating collateral damage in China Town. ℝoot smirked as she focused her algorithm on the event it began correlating data from key word searches of popular media sites and reconstructing events from eye witness accounts and cell phone recordings that were posted online. 

While much of the bystander footage was focused on the meta-spectacle several cameras caught glimpses of things not shown on the CCTV. Conspicuously inconspicuous observers. Her software reconstructed the audio of the fight, piecing it together from footage that was cleaned and digitally enhanced, or patched together from lip-reading software that scanned each still image of all of the video. 

Most of the audio consisted of meaningless banter but a few important details were also revealed. Not so much the identity of those fighting, as a simple media cross-reference search would do that based off of the powers displayed and outfits worn, but of the nature of their relationship: that one was employed to capture the other. She played back the audio reconstruction on a delayed loop while scanning the footage for outliers.

[color=00aeef][i]"Nevertheless, I’ll be taking your girl back to my employer whether I have to put you down or not..."[/i][/color]

She was looking for observers. People likely smart enough not to be caught on CCTV, and she compared civilian footage she could attain against the CCTV footage to find them. It was the rapid response time of the drones that told her someone must be observing the battle on site, and if they were there then they would stick out like a sore thumb. They would be the people reacting to the end of the conflict, rather than its spectacle or beginning, and with that ℝoot narrowed down the list to a handful of vehicles. Three of which were easily tracked by traffic cam and their plates came up registered to civilians. 

Two others on the other-hand were less so. The black SUV screamed private military and was likely a command vehicle while the other, a van, sat heavier on its suspension than it had any right to do so. Given what the reconstructed conversation told her about why the two were fighting, she reasoned it must have some addition heavy-duty off-market equipment inside to restrain a meta guest of the caliber that was captured.

[color=#00FF00]"That one,"[/color] ℝoot mumbled as she tapped the van on her screen, [color=#00FF00]"That one has the payload so it must be going to the hideout."[/color] She turned to another screen that was monitoring the SUV. [color=#00FF00]"Which means this one must have an agent in it."[/color] She tabbed over to the cell tower network which monitored communication traffic. 

While it'd be absurd to suggest that the contents of communication were monitored, it was the job of a cell tower to monitor the devices that are establishing connections and communicating. China Town was a cultural hub of activity which mandated that service providers have multiple towers to handle the network load, and as a result ℝoot was able to use the physical location of the vehicle as the primary point of reference to ID the devices inside by triangulating them on the network. 

She captured the IMEI numbers of the devices but noted that none had been used for the duration of the activity. Paramilitary types obviously know better, but there was also the hole that a comm system has to make in every day activity to remain secure, so the secure comm system too was ID'd by the whole it left in ordinary traffic, and each of the signal could be tracked independently. 

[color=#00FF00]"Bingo."[/color] ℝoot muttered at identifying the existence of the blatant out-of-the-ordinary signifier. It reeked of organized crime of the modern era. She got to work analyzing the interference signature that was left as a ghost in the cell tower network. It wouldn't be enough to identify the signal of the comm unit producing the interference, let alone tap them, but it would serve as a beacon to track the unit itself.

At that moment an instant message popped up on her computer with a link to an unrelated news story detailing police raiding an old-folks home where staff were being carted out in droves with allegations of abusing and neglecting the elderly and running all manner of illegal substances, and money-laundering. As reporters interviewed one of the tenants ℝoot put it together and quickly banged out a response on her keyboard. [color=#00FF00]"Riemann, I could just kiss you!"[/color] 

She returned her focus to the static image of the SUV and the van paused on her screen while her computer ran tracking searches in the background. [color=#00FF00]"Hiding in plain sight. That's what I'd do. Now, let's see if you try to lose me where I would..."[/color] she said as she flipped back to vector analysis of the drone's flight path. Cracking a secure military encryption to get into the drones after she located them would be a hassle so instead she took a different route. [color=#00FF00]"Damnit. Another shell company."[/color] she said in reference to the owners of not only the facility that the drones originated from but also to the one the SUV traced back to. 

Her frustration was tempered by the fact that for every obstacle she encountered limited the players that could be involved. Only the biggest players in the region had modus operandi she observed, and her tracking report made identifying which player all too easy. Both vehicles went to Midas Industries and one of the cell phones went deeper into the facility. ℝoot now had identified her agent. 

With that she keyed into her VPN and made a call from the governors office. Not to Midus Industries but to the old folk's home that Riemann liberated. ℝoot spoke at her computer which utilized a voice-to-text program to capture her words, and then utilized TTY Telphonic scripting to deliver the message to the intended recipient. The phone rang once and was answered immediately. Ten thousand dollars, as agreed, was wired into the recipients account for merely taking the call. The payment was more of a matter of proving her identity, than any signifier of the contact's personal value.

[color=#00FF00]"I have a task for you."[/color] ℝoot said, and awaited the response. 

Her side of the conversation ended with [color=#00FF00]"Yes, if it comes to that your family will be well cared for."[/color]