Part Twelve

"Local police are saying that the word on the street is that whoever financed the theft of the swords is having a meltdown, because they didn't get them."

"Are you telling me," said Vic, slowly, after her boss delivered this bit of news at the next Monday morning briefing, "that the people who stole the swords are keeping them instead of turning them over to their client? If so, are they trying to get more money? Maybe from the original client or someone else?"

As usual, the briefing was in a small meeting room at the federal building, reserved ahead of time by their boss, Special Agent in Charge Bruno Drake. Also as usual, the entire staff of the Detroit Bureau office could fit with space left over.

"That's all speculation. What is known is that certain people are tearing certain sections of the city apart, looking for the folks who were hired to steal the swords."

"This could be very bad," said Cindy Larsen. "This could start a gang war or worse."

"That's possible," said Drake. "On the other hand, with representatives of the boss acting, and possibly forcing the thieves to act in response, we might soon get a break in the case."

"Let's just hope not much breaks otherwise," said Cal Pavolin.

"In office news, thanks to the combined efforts of Cindy, Doro and the tame gadgeteers at headquarters, Vic's usual helmet was not only repaired, but given some improvements we've been pushing for."

Drake pulled a box from under his seat and opened it, to produce the helmet. Vic could see that it really was her old one, but with some modifications. Drake handed it to her, along with several printed pages.

"They improved all the equipment, especially the radio and visor display," he explained. "It also now has built-in lights in the visible, IR and UV range. The display has twice the resolution, too. The radio now has as much better range, and built-in cell capability. All the electronics have also been hardened. So, hopefully, you won't have the problem of an EMP damaging it again. There's also now a PA function, so you can speak to others more easily while wearing it. The only downside is that the battery life is now shorter. There just wasn't enough room for all that and more batteries, and some of the new devices are power hogs. To help deal with this, they included a portable charger which will plug into the cigarette lighter in your car."

"That is fantastic," said Vic, grinning. She pulled the helmet on. "The best part of all? It still fits!"

That brought a bit of laughter. The meeting ended on a high note.

* * *

Vic spent much of both her office and home time over the next several days memorizing how to use the new functions for her helmet and practicing with them. She was very pleased that the total weight and balance were almost unchanged, and she soon adapted to the differences. Michelle made several disparaging comments about "boys and their toys" but actually helped Vic practice. She even suggested several exercises to try with it.

A note at the end of the multi-page printout promised a complete new set of armor in a few days. At a guess, this was a response to the efforts of the Office of Scientific Investigation to have their "more capable" armor replace the suit developed by the Bureau. There were no details, but Vic was actually looking forward to testing the new armor when it came in. Like the improvements to her helmet, the new suit would be made by people familiar with her abilities and needs. People who also, at least presumably, had received Vic's reports on how her current armor had performed and her suggestions for improvements.

All this was training to familiarize herself with the new helmet was possible due to another quiet period in her work. As well, the literal drought had finally broken, though not completely. Though currently soaked, the area - the whole region - was still behind on precipitation, from late Winter on. Some people were angrily muttering vague accusations against those with powers over the lack of rain and snow. Vic recalled her farmer grandfather observing, more than once, that "no matter how much rain you have now, you are only three weeks from a drought."

With the "super drive-by" SUV and its crew captured the demonstrations faded, but not completely. There were still many things happening in Detroit which its inhabitants objected to, and with demonstrations started for one purpose it was easy to continue them for others. However, most of the protests were now much smaller, and dispersed to several parks.

Perhaps because of this reduction in opportunity, Dare's few appearances during this period were non-confrontational, and generally brief. Multiple law enforcement agencies were still after her. She had, after all, outright murdered several people in one event, most of them Detroit police officers, and killed others later. Though - fitting with all the other bizarre things about her - when she appeared she acted as if she were still perceived as a hero.

On the other hand, this reduction in her appearances and the SUV operations made other criminal activities more noticeable. Additional clues as to what was happening with the balance blades were occasionally coming in. Frustratingly, there was enough delay in the information reaching the police - with further delay before it got to the feds - that the response was more a matter of examination and cleanup than catching anyone in the act.

At least no-one is using the swords for their intended purpose, thought Vic, with a shudder.

During this time, most of Vic's workday was spent in the office; the three-desk office she shared with Cindy and Cal. Bored. Both of her office mates were busy, doing the work of a full federal office between the two of them. Vic, blessedly, was spared most of that paperwork, though she still pitched in when they were especially swamped and it was something she actually knew how to do. As well, she did occasionally go out, to train or be the super voice in some local matter involving supers. Those duties included recruiting new supers for the Bureau, now that the budget was slowly coming back up. She was even trying to get the gadgeteer from the SUV into a program to work for the Bureau of Special Resources. So far, he wasn't interested.

Fortunately, new information was turning up on the balance blades. Including from some unusual sources.

"I just got off the phone with Sharma, of the Assembly," said Drake, when Vic went to his office in response to his summons. Drake shook his head. "I swear, talking to that woman is worse than talking to my ninety-three year old grandmother. Anyway, she said that she and some mystic friends had held a... Not, seance, what did she call it...?"

"A reading?" guessed Vic.

"That's it! I wrote down what she told me." Drake handed Vic the sticky note. "Am I the only one who finds it odd that every bit of information she relayed to me was couched in metaphor and rhyming clues, except the Longitude and Latitude, to the second for each?"

"So where is this?"

"Hotel, not far from downtown. It used to be a grand place, but has come down a bit in recent years. So they don't ask questions when someone rents a suite or a whole floor for several days. Especially when they pay in advance."

"Have you given this to the police?"

"No reason to involve them, yet. Right now it's just an investigation. A purely federal investigation. I called the hotel and confirmed that the entire top floor - two joined large suites - had been rented by a group who didn't want room service. Said they were holding a series of sensitive business negotiations, only most of those using the rooms didn't look much like businessmen. At least, not for any legitimate business. I did talk to the heads of the local FBI and Marshal's Service, and they said they have people available to help with a raid. I also spoke with a federal judge, and he's preparing a warrant. I want you to take the lead. Go talk with the heads of the local FBI and Marshals, and arrange a visit in force. Depending on what you find, then we'll tell the police."

"You want me to be the lead?!" said Vic, a bit alarmed.

"Yes. There shouldn't be any problems. All those involved - including you - are experienced agents. You'll do fine."

If the police had come up with the clue they would have had first call, but since this was all through Drake's initiative... Vic nodded, spun around and left.

* * *

With the warrant in the hand of one of the FBI men, half of the dozen federal agents involved came at each of the entrances to the combined suites from stairwells at opposite ends of the hallway. At first glance, the only thing which seemed odd - besides the armed and armored men and women - was that both doors had tape around the seams. Repeated knocks went unanswered. At a nod from Vic a man in each team used a digital passkey obtained from the front desk. They unlocked the doors, threw them open, then quickly jumped back. A man and woman, waiting crouched low, quickly and deftly shoved wedges under the open doors to keep them from closing and also immediately pulled back. Next came the warnings.

"Federal agents! We have a warrant to search these premises! Put up your hands and stay where you are!"

Smoke poured out, setting off hallway smoke detectors.

The first person in was Vic. Unlike her old helmet, the new one activated the filters automatically on detecting smoke particles or any of a wide assortment of gasses. She went in low, trying to get under the smoke. She was only partially successful. The rooms were full almost to the floor, though there was no sign of flames. Still...

"Get fire extinguishers!" she yelled over her new helmet's PA.

Given the smoke, the work of making the preliminary sweep was left to Vic. None of those staging the raid had thought to bring gas masks, since they weren't planning to use tear gas or smoke grenades. Fortunately, there was no-one in either section of the combined suite except Vic. The fire was a smoldering mess, coming from material piled on the main table in one of the two large rooms. Vic grabbed the first extinguisher brought to the door and doused that pile thoroughly. Then she checked the rest of the rooms.

"Looks like this was the only fire," she announced. "I'm gonna open the balcony doors."

"Watch for wires!" one of the Deputy Marshals yelled. "They might have left traps!"

Well, it's a little late for that, thought Vic, since she had already opened every internal door and at least looked in every room and closet and cabinet.

With the outside doors open the rooms soon aired out enough for the other federal agents to enter. Vic could already see people running out onto the lawn, in response to the alarm the smoke had triggered.

"Casey," said Vic, "can you go down and meet the fire department when they get here? Oh, and tell the desk staff the fire is out."

"Will do," said the FBI agent.

"Looks like they piled everything they weren't taking with them which they thought might provide evidence - including the bedclothes - onto that table, sabotaged the smoke alarms and sprinklers and left," said one of the FBI agents, after he made a quick examination of the rooms. Vic later learned he had experience with arson investigations. "Even the sheets, pillows and cushions from the fold-out couches and the Murphy bed. That fire's been burning for a while, too. Just a nice, slow smoulder, hot enough to destroy most evidence but not enough to cause structural damage. I think they might even have wetted some of the things to slow the burn. Though there are empty bottles of bleach under the table, so maybe they just doused the stuff with that."

"That all fits," said Vic, nodding. "The team which did this probably committed those branch bank robberies. They go out of their way to avoid unnecessary damage, but are very thorough about not leaving evidence. Real professionals."

"Looks like they even taped the outside doors to keep the smoke in here. Probably the last man out did that."

Vic looked around at the mess which the robbers had left, and sighed.

"So, two questions for the experts. How likely are we to recover any significant evidence from this mess? How long have they been gone?"

"A lot of people don't know that heat can actually set fingerprints, if the substrate isn't too badly damaged," said one of the Deputy Marshals. "Also, DNA is surprisingly heat resistant. With so much stuff here, we're bound to get something, despite the bleach and fire. That will take a while, though. Just clearing these rooms properly will take days."

"I'd say this fire was set several hours ago," said the fire-expert FBI agent. He coughed, as several others were doing. "Damn, it stinks in here."

"I doubt they did this because they knew we were coming, then," said Vic, frowning in deep thought and scowling inside her helmet. "We didn't even know we were coming several hours ago."

"So we missed them," said one of the Deputy Marshals, sounding irritated. "We just, plain missed them, through pure bad luck. Damn."

Bad luck, thought Vic, with a chill. Or was it evil luck?