Part Five

The quartet at the old bakery was again left at loose ends as evening moved towards night. The lack of solid leads on the missing treasures case was very frustrating. There just wasn't much they could currently do about that situation. Neither were there alerts on other activities where the help of Tricorne might be needed, to occupy their time. This was partly due to The FX. Though to be fair, since they were a public team most of their activities involved matters which Tricorne would not have even known about until too late for them to help. That evening the four found themselves gravitating to the TV area of the lounge. Vic found it odd how she had so quickly adapted to this situation, already thinking it not only familiar, but comfortable. She even had a specific place on the couch where she liked to sit. She hadn't spent that much time at Blue Impact's lair, but it was quickly becoming just another place where she sometimes hung out.

As usual, local and regional news was a popular topic for those in the old bakery, with a smattering of national and even international items for good measure. After watching one segment, Gadgetive seemed unusually amused by a local newscaster with a bad case of fumble-mouth. Of course, his verbal clumsiness was mainly due to his alarm at the level of emotion displayed by the man he was trying to interview.

"He's a good reporter," said Gadgetive, laughing after the segment ended, "but he occasionally gets his tang toungled."

"Yeah, well, in regard to the guy he was interviewing," said Energia, "I remember something Tiger taught, when he and TAL were guest instructors on the island."

"Which is?" said Gadgetive.

"If you have to scream to make your point, you don't have a point to make."

* * *

The next morning brought news that piqued the interest of those staying at the old bakery: There was to be another multi-team video conference on the matter of the missing ship, crew and treasures. Most significantly, this time Constantine himself would participate. Tricorne (plus Vic) were among those invited to join.

The communications center for Tricorne's base was actually one corner of the lounge area, a section which stood out in several ways. One of those was the color of the area; or, rather, the lack of color. The section could be closed off by and was lined with heavy, black curtains. Even the noise-absorbing tiles in the ceiling and the thick carpet in that corner of the floor were dark colors. This cut down on extraneous noise and light, helping the 3D process to work better. The pickups were positioned to only show that corner, which was otherwise blank. The display volume was on the far side of the twin pickup towers, which were also contained the stereo projection equipment.

The four at the bakery were all participating in the chat. The physical arrangement of the equipment meant they would literally be looking at those they were speaking to. The rig required a bit of preparation to use, which had Gadgetive fussing with it for a while.

"I'd like to have one of the newer rigs," said Blue Impact, when the team's gadgeteer finally gave the thumbs up. Fortunately, well before the conference. "Just can't justify it."

"We really need to choose a logo and get a banner and some business cards," said Energia, as she regarded the matt black surroundings. "I mean, having a nice banner with our team name and symbol, right there, where it would show during video calls would be great. This is just too bland. Too black! We look like we're floating in space."

"Useless decoration," said Gadgetive.

"You're just mad 'cause we don't like your suggestion for the logo."

"A logo is something we do need," said Blue Impact, speaking in a distracted fashion as she checked what they were wearing, to make sure there wouldn't be any video hotspots from reflected light, "but save that thought for later. Right now, everyone get ready. It's almost time."

Vic was left wishing she had an actual costume. Especially one as appealing as Energia's dress outfit. Vic settled for wearing her composite armor - which she had cleaned and given a coating intended to mute reflections - for the conference, though with her helmet deliberately left on an end table in the TV area. The other two members of Tricorne were also in fancier than usual versions of their costumes. Vic felt even more underdressed once the conference began, especially given the harsh lighting the 3D equipment here required. There were six teams involved - counting the folks at Pine Island as a team - and all the participants were garbed for the occasion. Even the Black Mask seemed better dressed than usual, though with him that was difficult to tell. He was about as hard to see clearly - and for the same reason - as the Black Badge had been.

The images of all the participants were projected in miniature beyond the two masts, appearing to be at a greater distance than the curtained-off area actually allowed. When someone spoke, their image was immediately transfered to the center of the display area, and made life sized or a bit larger. Which definitely made obvious who said what.

Some of those participating were standing, as was the quartet at Blue Impact's lair. Some were seated, usually around a table with an overhead projector/scanner. Constantine was among the former. He was in his government office, in his dress uniform, which meant those who knew him could relax a bit. His large, ornate desk was just behind him. The Black Mask - the moderator - now also stood. The muted chatter on the conference link quieted.

"Let's get one thing out of the way first," said the Black Mask, addressing Constantine directly. "Do you have any reason to suspect complicity on the part of the crew?"

"I've known Captain Alexiad Pawlikowski for over thirty years," said Constantine, flatly, his impressive baritone voice carefully schooled. "I don't believe he would willingly betray me. Likewise, he is a good judge of character and would be very careful in his choice of crew. Only a few on the Storm Defiant knew they would be transporting the container with our treasures before the news was leaked on the day of departure. None knew the details of their course, including Captain Pawlikowski, until after they left port. While complicity is possible, I consider it very unlikely."

"The key word there," said the Black Mask, staring unflinchingly at Constantine, "being 'willingly.' Even ignoring things like drugs and mind control powers, there are threats to his family or his crew. Also, modern voice synthesizers are very convincing. Especially over a digitized audio link."

"All of which I know," said Constantine, impatiently.

The Black Mask changed subjects. Constantine knew he would independently check all this, but wouldn't bring up the topic again unless he found something.

The session which followed was excruciatingly polite. Everyone knew that Constantine was very angry over this matter - more due to the missing men than the missing treasure - and went to great lengths to share what they knew without engaging in any more speculation than was absolutely necessary. Small talk was also avoided. One result was that the conference went quickly.

"Well, unless someone has some last-minute information, I believe that is all for now," said the Black Mask, as inscrutable as ever.

The various groups and individuals made their farewell statements, and the conference ended.

* * *

There were things which could be done to occupy time until more clues were found. Training was one of them. Maintenance of Blue Impact's lair was another.

Most teams were large enough - in both number of members and infrastructure - to require a staff to maintain their headquarters. Tricorne had three members, with three occasional auxiliaries. Energia enjoyed the privacy and intimacy of having just a few people in the lair, but she sometimes envied The FX. Even that new team had people to sweep, cook and do laundry. Of course, they were also a public team, like the Intrepids and the Assembly. While access to their base was restricted their location was known. Which meant a good portion of their larger staff went towards security. They still had plenty of people to clean for them.

Then again, Tricorne had Gadgetive. Who might need to have her energies directed towards a needed course of action at times, but who was very handy to have around when it came to getting things done at the lair. Just now, the gadgeteer was putting the finishing touches on her third-generation combined floor cleaner-cat entertainment unit.

"Solved the stairs problem with this one," she bragged, wiping grease from the back of her hand across her forehead. "Finally had the idea that instead of having to climb the stairs it just needs to call the elevator."

"So how does it clean the stairs, then?" said Blue Impact, patiently.

Gadgetive froze for a handful of seconds. Then began swearing in five languages.

"At least she didn't try to put a gun on this one," said Energia, smirking.

"We need active security!"

"Arming a drone counts as a trap," said Vic. "Traps are illegal since they don't have any judgement. Even the military found out the hard way that they need to have an actual person - someone with training in using lethal force - running their drones to avoid tragedies."

"Don't you ever carry a gun?" said Gadgetive, sounding peeved. She might have been trying to make some indirect point about the importance of being armed.

"I had to qualify with several firearms to get my badge," said Vic, unconcerned. "Have to requalify periodically, too. However, I've never used one on the job. Never even tried to. Since there's almost no metal in any of my other gear, I figure I'm better off without carrying an easily detectible hunk of steel. Not so much as a pocket knife. I even try to avoid having change on me."

"She has a point," said Energia, nodding. "If that jerk Leon had actually had a good level of skill he could have seriously hurt me or even killed me, instead of just bruising me badly. Because he knew my powers don't work well against non-metals."

"I hadn't even thought of that," said Vic, startled. "I mean, I don't plan to fight you and there aren't that many supers with your kind of powers..."

"Three hundred forty-eight," said Energia, absently. "As of last count."

"Buh, wha..."

"Well, only a few of those have my exact mix. That number is for how many have powers involving magnetism in some way."

"Well, that's a little more reasonable," said Vic, obviously still a bit boggled. "I assume that's for the entire Earth."

"Yeah."

"Wait," said Gadgetive, holding up both hands. "Do all the super agents of the Bureau have to qualify with firearms to be field agents? Even Brade?"

"Yep," said Vic, grinning.

"Weird. Since most of the Bureau's actual LEOs are far more dangerous without a gun than a norm would be with one."

"Which may be why so many people are afraid of supers," said Blue Impact, tiredly.

* * *

The Pine Island Academy constantly had many problems to deal with, which was one reason many of the staff stayed over the holidays and others made frequent trips back during that period for special meetings. The elevator connection to the ancient Subterran tunnels helped with this commuting, at least for those without travel powers.

That plethora of problems didn't mean the staff weren't collectively at least brainstorming ways they could help with the search for the missing Storm Defiant and its contents. It also didn't mean that at least part of the motivation for staying over or visiting during the Northern Hemisphere's Winter wasn't the great climate and beaches available on the island.

"We need to get more data," said Junker, at a weekly staff meeting. "We should send the probes we're using to monitor the Puerto Rico Trench to help with the search. There's a lot of folks looking in a lot of different ways, including underwater, but those probes have sensors I doubt anything else in that area would have."

"Can they take the pressure?" said Lori Savage. "I don't recall how deep that part of the North Sea is."

"Not nearly as deep as the Trench," said Eve.

"That's right," said Lori, nodding. "I remember, now, the Trench is over ten times as deep as the deepest part of the North Sea."

"Those probes can actually go a lot deeper than we've had them in the trench," said Junker, confidently. "Their pressure vessels are made of FROP."

"'FROP'?" said Eve.

"Fiber-Reinforced Ordered Polymer," said Junker. "Those shells were originally developed for dropping probes into Jupiter and the other gas giant planets."

"Well, we can offer the services of our drones," said Eve. "However, only to the appropriate maritime authorities. We don't want to just barge in and perhaps interfere with another search."

"I'll get on it," said Junker.

* * *

Over the next few days, the frantic searching for the Storm Defiant located many wrecked ships, some thousands of years old. None were the missing cargo vessel. A report reviewing the situation came out one morning and was promptly circulated to hero teams, including Tricorne. It had little new information, except for eliminating possibilities. Currently, Vic and the members of Tricorne, were all seated around the coffee table in the lounge area of the lair, reading the report.

"One thing I find interesting, and even darkly humorous, is that several terrorist groups have claimed responsibility," said Blue Impact, dryly, as she leafed through her hardcopy. "Or they did, until Constantine made an announcement that any person or group claiming they had hijacked the ship would be treated as if they were actually involved, regardless of their real connection. The terrorists quickly shut up."

"Okay," said Energia, straightening from her printout, to briefly stretch and then frown. "If the ship isn't in the North Sea, where is it?"

"The closest thing to a straight answer any of the psychics have given is 'You must return to the beginning,'" said Vic, with a tired shrug. "I know from my Bureau training that there are things a knowledgeable person can do to confuse the mentalists and magical types. Looks like whoever is behind this knows the same tricks."

"What if the actual ship was hijacked well before it reached the North Sea?" said Blue Impact, thoughtfully. "In fact, as soon as it was safely out of sight of shore and any other ships? Then brought back to the East Coast... That would definitely confuse things, and not just for the mystics."

"Yeah," said Vic, nodding slowly. "An old trick, but still a good one. The Storm Defiant was deliberately traveling outside the usual shipping routes for much of the trip. The hijackers get control early, then rig another ship with the beacons from the cargo ship, use a radio relay to have the captain - likely with a gun to his head - send messages or respond to queries at a time when no-one is suspecting that anything's wrong... Later, they fake the distress call, shut everything off, maybe even dump it overboard..."

"The reports of pirates boarding just before the ship reached the storm could be standard mastermind overthinking," said Energia, eagerly. "The idea being to create a plausible red herring, something to provide a possible explanation which has nothing to do with what actually happened."

"Meanwhile, the real ship makes port some place where it won't be noticed, well before anyone thinks there's anything wrong," said Blue Impact, also nodding. "It's a small cargo ship. In a busy port, before it's reported missing it wouldn't be noticed. Especially if they faked another name on the bow before it got back to port."

"How would they keep hiding it, though?" said Energia. "Once news of the ship going missing started around, wouldn't people notice? I mean, we can't be the first people to think of this. Even the mundane authorities must have. If that is what happened, wouldn't someone have found the ship by now?"

"Not if it were some place out of the way, where people are paid to not notice things," said Blue Impact, who seemed to be mentally on the trail of something.

"Some sort of smuggler's dock, or something?" said Vic, who knew very little about ships or shipping; at least, the normal practice involved with operating those.

"That's not too far off. Many dockyards have areas which aren't much used, at least for legitimate business. Some have been empty going back decades, to when they were built during a shipping boom. Maybe even during one of the World Wars. There are docks, dry docks, also shipyards which have gone from building ships to unbuilding them..."

"Breakers," said Gadgetive, nodding. "It's a sometimes shady business, which can be used to dispose of evidence."

"I thought that was all done overseas, to take advantage of cheap labor," said Energia, frowning.

"The actual demolition of ships is," said Blue Impact. "However, there's a local business in this very city which will remove anything useable that isn't necessary for the actual operation of the ship, before a crew takes it overseas for demolition. They're infamous for disposing of evidence in some types of crimes, too."

"Then why are they still in business?!" said Gadgetive, outraged.

"That I do know about," said Vic, with a shrug. "Too little evidence, too much money brought in to the local economy from the work. The authorities occasionally catch individuals or small groups connected with that facility in crimes, but it's never traceable back to the owners. The facility is also one of the few companies anywhere on Earth who do this type of job. So there's a lot of incentive for the appropriate authorities to look the other way."

"How do you know about this?" said Blue Impact, looking at Vic. "You're not from this area and there doesn't seem to be any super involvement in that enterprise."

"They've been repeatedly investigated for federal crimes," said Vic, with another shrug. "Before my first time working with you folks, Brade made sure I was briefed on that and some of other problems in the area. She also makes sure I get updates before coming back here. Just in case. Well, except for this time. Not enough notice."

"I think this is something we need to talk to the local police and the Port Authority about," said Blue Impact, thoughtfully. "However, there's a few other people I want to talk to first. People who are in a position to hear things."

"There's shipyards and dry docks all up and down the coast, though," said Energia, frowning. "Checking all of them would take weeks, even with police help. How do we narrow it down?"

"Wait a minute," said Blue Impact, obviously getting an idea. She rose and hurried over to her corner.

While the others looked at each other, she got online and checked something.

"Yeah. That's it."

"What's what?" said Energia, walking over to the entrance to her boss' partitioned-off, private corner.

"Mano Dura mentioned something about workers being turned forcibly away from a dry dock where they saw activity and tried to apply for jobs," said Blue Impact, from the other side of the partition. "Nothing unusual about that, except in how, well, vigorous the response was. However, he also mentioned that one of his union contacts complained that something shady must be going on because there wasn't supposed to be any work at that dry dock, because it was out of service. He - Mano Dura - was just engaging in a general grousing; maybe with the expectation we'd help do something about the situation. I didn't think about it possibly being connected with the missing Storm Defiant until just now."

"Well, there's often something shady going on in ports," said Gadgetive, puzzled, as Blue Impact continued to work in her corner.

"Yeah. For some reason, though, this stuck out, and I mean to people who work in that port. Okay; yeah. That dry dock is officially out of service until it's repaired and recertified. So, at the very least, they're operating in violation of multiple regulations. Why take the risk, unless it's for a big prize?"

"That's your hunch?" said Vic, unconvinced. "Greedy people will take any risk they think they can get away with."

"That's my hunch." She grinned at Vic. "Remember, I've been at this a lot longer than any of you. I've learned when to listen to my hunches. We definitely need to check this. At the very least, we'll be stopping illegal and likely unsafe work in an old dry dock. Though, if it will make you happy, I'll do some more legwork before contacting the authorities."