Protean could sense the unease contained within multiple members of the Wards. He wanted to further explain his lesson, to turn it into an actual learning experience instead of a surprise failure that seemed like nothing but being chastised, but fate held a different priority. The senior hero guided his four Wards through the PRT building, across the floor and up two stories. The group stopped in front of one way glass which allowed them to gaze into a prisoner processing room. The room was positively Spartan in how sparse the resources were. A single bed sat near the corner, while not too far off was a combination shower/toilet barely a foot and a half in diameter, with no curtains for privacy. A door stood strong against the far wall, strong and sturdy. It had been constructed by one of the Protectorate's tinkers using a form of metal that did not exist on the Periodic Table. All in all the room was only ten feet by ten feet.
Director Kens was already standing in front of the viewing window, along with one of Decoy's projected holograms. The director, predictably, wore a scowl that showed incredible displeasure.
"-nacceptable that he's not here. As the Protectorate captain of this city, Inkscape is necessary to participate in this interrogation.""I understand," Decoy's hologram replied, speaking in a thick Japanese accent.
"But Noble was injured. It's only natural to want to be by his fiance's side while she's treated. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else if Protean were..." Decoy trailed off, then ceased speaking. The image did not react to Protean and the Wards' approach, but the tinker no doubt was aware. With all the cameras, microphones, and other surveillance equipment he had installed in the building, it was more rare to find something Decoy
wasn't aware of.
"All the more reason for Inkscape to be present, so he can help get information out of one of her attackers." Director Kens turned to greet the new arrivals.
"Glad you came in such a rush, Protean. Wards." He did not appear glad.
"I assume Decoy has briefed you as to the situation?""Just the brief summary," Protean replied, anxiety tracing through his voice.
"Then I suppose I should give you the details as we wait for the prisoner to arrive. Earlier today, Noble and Captain Morales were charged with escorting a prisoner transport. The prisoner in question is a dangerous parahuman by the name of Gamble. Thinker class, rank 8. As far as we've been able to ascertain, his power guides him through unlikely and near-impossible tasks. The less likely he would be to do something himself, the more likely his power would let him achieve it."Protean nods.
"I remember the reports about Gamble hacking into the Pentagon. If I recall, in his interrogation he said he was just pushing random buttons with no idea what he was doing?""Yes." The director spoke curtly, as if attempting to regain control of the conversation. He did not like to be interrupted.
"The transport was ambushed. The initial reports suggest there were five assailants on scene, with four confirmed parahumans. They took out the entire squad of PRT soldiers as well as Noble and Captain Morales. Though they escaped with Gamble, Noble was able to detain one of their own with that new containment foam weapon. That individual is being brought in now."As if right on cue, the security door on the far end of the room opened up and
a young teenager of ambiguous gender wearing a full body straight jacket, repurposed to be free moving and comfortable, along with a lab coat, was forcibly marched into the processing chamber with a PRT soldier accompanying them. The soldier began to order the prisoner to remove their clothing. The prisoner did not look offended, but actually appeared excited by the idea.
"Normally I like dinner first, but we can make an exception for you, cutie.""Clothing off. Now." The soldier was in no mood to be messed with.
"Only if you say please." The prisoner winked at their escort in an exaggerated manner. A normal human face couldn't possibly be able to make a motion like that, so they had to be a shifter of some variety. Regardless, their attitude did not last long as the soldier pressed a button on a handheld remote. The result was the prisoner writhing in pain as electricity coursed through their body. It only lasted a moment, leaving them breathing heavily.
"Right to the foreplay I see. I get the message, hon." The parahuman began stripping as commanded.
"For the moment we are operating on the assumption that this one is a shifter and a brute, but we cannot be certain until more data is confirmed. He... She... Goes by the name 'Lovecraft.' It's a disgrace what some children become in this day and age."Once Lovecraft had completely stripped down (which did not help confirm their gender, as they had seemingly shifted away their genitals for a "Barbie doll" look), the soldier escort ordered them to stand in the shower and "decontaminate." Without much fussing, Lovecraft did as told. A stream of some liquid that appeared to be water rushed down over their body, stripping away the last bits of containment foam that had enveloped their body in the fight. Other particulates also washed away in the twenty second shower.
"Looks like you got me all clean, but I think I'd rather be dirty.""Put this on." The soldier tossed Lovecraft a prison uniform in a no nonsense manner. The parahuman held it up, comparing the size to their own body.
"Oh hon, this is too large for me... If you don't carry my size, I'm fine how we are.""You'll grow into it," the soldier replied, keeping his eyes straight. "Put it on and wait. We have questions."
The soldier backed out of the room, keeping his eyes focused on Lovecraft until they had cleared the door, which then shut automatically with a loud
thunk. Lovecraft shrugged and began to dress themself. Meanwhile, Director Kens turned to face the two Protectorate heroes and the four Wards.
"Since Inkscape is attending to your injured peers, interrogation is up to each of you. Times like this I wish we had a dedicated thinker in our branch. Washington says thinkers are spread thin, but I doubt that.""What about that thinker that Decoy found in the bomb shelter?" Protean inquired.
Director Kens shook his head.
"He's still receiving therapy from Dr. Jackson, and we're still unsure as to the extent of his abilities. At the very least." he turned his gaze to Tulpa for a moment.
"We can at least confirm Lovecraft's abilities. In any case, we need to find out who they are, who their team is, why they broke Gamble out, and what their bigger plan is. Decoy, how is the lie detection software?"The hologram, which had been completely motionless until addressed, suddenly spoke up.
"Online and fully functional. It rates any statement 1-10 in how truthful they are being. So long as they are actively lying, at any rate. If they believe in their falsehood then my software cannot detect that.""Very good. Well then, Protean, you're in charge. I have other matters to attend." Without waiting for the heroes to respond, the director took his leave. An eerie silence fell over the group as Protean was visibly confused.
"Me? Huh. Um, ok then. Uh... Well I guess I am the most senior hero here. Huh. Alright, so we'll go ahead and find out what he... She... It? Find out what that person knows. Tulpa, probe them with your projection to get anything you can, while we all see what we can get them to say. I suppose you can go one at a time or in teams, all at once.. Whatever you want." It couldn't have been more clear that Protean was incredibly uncomfortable with a leadership role. Training the kids he could handle. Hell, he practically was a kid himself, mentally if not physically. Taking legitimate command of a situation? Why couldn't Ink have been here...
"I can't believe how rude you're all being. I mean really, I saved your asses from Noble! Without my interven... Internen... Without me doing my thing you'd have been toast. Come on. So why did you hire these mooks to spring me anyway, dude?" Gamble strolled toward the Broker and extended his hand. The Broker shook Gamble's hand, keeping his drink in the other. He slowly sipped the alcohol, savoring its taste. The man's eyes rolled up in the back of his head showing off just how much he really enjoyed the experience.
"Uh, not to interrupt you, I mean I know booze is the shit and all, but you want to answer my question? Did you hear about how great Gamble is and wanted to hire me for some stupidly impossible job?" Gamble tried to pull his hand away from Broker, which took some difficulty, but he managed it after a second or two of tugging.
"Not in the least. I have no use for an imbecile of your caliber. Your brain is made of sod and your head is among the thickest I have seen in all my days. I have gotten what I need from you." The Broker continued to sip his drink, ignoring the now fuming villain standing before him.
"What? The fuck is that, you bad-teeth using, tea-drinking sonuva bitch? I've got a wager for you! I'll beat the shit out of everyone in this building, then you'll all work for me!" Gamble took a defensive stance, but any trained fighter could tell it was full of holes. This man had absolutely no idea what he was doing when it came to a fight.
"You're certainly welcome to try, mate." The Broker set his glass down on the bar, glass on wood echoing slightly throughout the room.
"However I am afraid you will find your luck has run out." If the Broker's attitude could be summed up in a single word, it would be "disinterested."
"Oh, it is on now!" Gamble reached for a bar stool, hefted it up, then declared,
"I'm gonna beat the tar outta every single one of you without breaking this stool!" He began to spin around, swinging the stool with him in a circle as he went. Then Gamble released the stool, or rather he lost his grip, and it went flying over the side of the bar and crashed into a few bottles of liquor. It had missed everyone, the closest being Heartless, and even then it had only come within six feet of his head.
"Wait... What the hell happened? That should have... Should have...""Oh deary me. That was nearly $500 of good drink. Now I'll need to have that cleaned up." The Englishman sighed in a not-too-serious manner, folding his fingers together over his lap and looking down as if to give all that alcohol a moment of silence. A couple seconds later he looked up and spoke again.
"Well then, I have what I hired you for today. Gamble is yours to do with whatever you wish. You will find your accounts a little fatter, and your next assignment is posted in the basement. Other matters call my attention now. Cheers."
Leaves