ooOoo

Armsmaster never felt at ease in Director Piggot's office. Part of it was that she had never bothered upgrading the chairs in front of her desk to handle the weight of a man wearing power armor. Part of it was that the security measures built into the room prevented him from browsing the internet. The bulk of it, though, was that every time he visited this office it was to meet with Director Piggot.

"When our grandfathers rooted the Nazis out of Europe they didn't hide behind a bunch of capes. They fought with gumption, firearms, and good old American know-how," Piggot said, reading from the screen in front of her. Armsmaster had never considered her much of an orator, but she was showing a surprising flair for sarcasm. "These bastards think they're some sort of ubermensch who can roll all over our home town. Sign up with the Brockton Bay Resistance today and show them they're wrong!"

The director pushed the screen to the side, giving Armsmaster a glimpse of the embedded video that had accompanied the call to arms during the brief period that it had remained on PHO. She took advantage of the clear sight line to fix him with a steady glare, momentarily ignoring Miss Militia seated by his side.

"What do you have?"

Armsmaster took a moment to review the available data. There was a lot of it. Ever since the video of Fenja's assassination had first appeared on PHO it had been the dominant topic of conversation in Brockton Bay. Unfortunately, concrete information was proving more difficult to come by.

"The online investigation has been... inconclusive," Armsmaster said. The one silver lining in all of this was that the appearance of a locally filmed snuff video made it easy to get a warrant. Unfortunately, the perpetrators were no fools and had obviously anticipated this level of scrutiny.

"Oh?"

"The initial post was from a throwaway account on PHO. I traced the original connection through a series of relays, but the trail dried up in northern France," Armsmaster said. Piggot raised an eyebrow, and he fidgeted slightly before he continued. "Specifically, Normandy."

That earned a snort from the director. "Anything on the group?"

"Before the video was posted? Nothing. Now? They have a fan club and a crowdfunding project," Armsmaster said. "I think it's obvious from the video that they aren't who they claim to be."

Miss Militia gave a slight hum of disagreement. "Don't underestimate what ordinary people will do when they're pushed into a corner."

"Something like this is possible. God knows, plenty of gangs got their start through vigilante murders," Armsmaster allowed. "But to assassinate a brute on video and escape cleanly? This is the work of someone who knows what they're doing."

"How many military veterans live in the city?" Miss Militia asked. "Is it so hard to believe that Empire 88 simply angered the wrong person?"

Piggot nodded to acknowledge the point before turning back to Armsmaster. "You have a suspect."

"Coil," Armsmaster said. "He stands to benefit from open violence erupting between Empire 88 and the civilian population. He employs teams of well trained mercenaries. He has access to military grade equipment."

He paused briefly before moving from the realm of fact to the realm of speculation. "While we don't know what his power is, every indication is that it is a thinker ability of some kind. This 'Brockton Bay Resistance' has all the hallmarks of a thinker trying to be too clever for their own good. Trying to play two sides off against each other while watching the show. In this case, trying to drive a wedge between the Empire and the mass of citizens who are willing to extend it tacit support."

"Even if the group itself is fake, the outpouring of support online is undeniably real," Miss Militia said. "The fact that the city is willing to cheer for vigilante murder is damning."

Armsmaster grimaced, but he could hardly disagree. When he'd first transferred to the Protectorate East Northeast he had taken it as a personal affront that an openly Nazi criminal gang had established itself in his city. Somehow after day after day and year after year of grinding away at the problem of parahuman crime, it had simply become an accepted fact of life. Not that Armsmaster would ever condone summary execution of Empire 88 capes... but he could understand why people would.

"Keep an open mind for now. For all we know this Resistance is a real group and they're being manipulated by a thinker or two. Run down every lead you can," Piggot said. "And remember, the Empire's going to be out for blood. Stay safe out there."

The dismissal was clear in her tone. Armsmaster nodded and stood. Miss Militia stood as well, falling in behind him as he headed to the door. He paused when the Director called out.

"One more thing. Anger makes people sloppy," Piggot said. "God knows we're due for a break. If you see the Empire open themselves up to it, don't hesitate to knock them down a peg or two."

Armsmaster nodded again. "Understood."

Taking down a villainous cape was always its own reward. In this environment a PRT capture of Empire capes would also help calm the mob of ordinary citizens crying out for rough justice.

Armsmaster split off from Miss Militia to make his way down to his lab. His gear wasn't going to upgrade itself. Tweaking his armor to be relatively Kaiser-proof was going to be quite a challenge. Still, rather than turning over possible designs in his mind as he walked, Armsmaster found himself dwelling on Miss Militia's comments. Could it be possible that the Brockton Bay Resistance was just what it claimed to be? A simple collection of armed and angry, but otherwise unremarkable, citizens looking to take down the Nazis in their midst?

He just couldn't accept it. Every instinct he had developed in his years of experience was telling him this was a thinker setup. Thinkers always thought they were the smartest person in the room. They loved sitting on the sidelines and watching their enemies tear each other apart. Trolling people online from behind the safety of a computer screen while other people put their lives on the line was a thinker's dream.

He stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning that thought over in his mind. Smug. Condescending. Troll.

He called up Dragon's number on his in built communications system and barely fumbled through a greeting before getting to the point, trying to hold onto his train of thought.

"Dragon, I have a question about that video," he said, picking up the pace as he neared his workshop

"I haven't been able to turn up anything new," she said, then paused. "You thought of something?"

"Do you have any record of what Tattletale was up to last night?" he asked.

"PHO records show that she posted the latest chapter of her capefic a little over half an hour before the video appeared. She spent the hour after that engaged in an increasingly heated discussion with a member of 'Team Imperial Arms,'" Dragon replied, a slight hint of amusement audible through her professional facade. "She eventually received a one week threadban. Tracking back her location shows that she was at home. There's no overlap between her and any of the destinations on the video track back."

Armsmaster grunted in disappointment. No smoking gun, then. It wasn't impossible for a thinker of Tattletale's caliber to fool Dragon when it came to computer networks, but it seemed highly unlikely. Well, he'd still put a couple men in charge of keeping tabs on her physical location. Even if they didn't turn up any useful information it was still a good idea to keep a protective eye on independent capes when gang activity started to heat up.

"You know she only writes that stuff to get under your skin," Dragon said, apparently misinterpreting his response.

Armsmaster was in the middle of the retina scan that would give him access to the workshop. Fortunately, the advanced technology was able to complete the scan as he spoke.

"That's not-I mean, I wouldn't mind taking her account down," Armsmaster said. "But writing amateurish smut for internet publication isn't a crime."

Dragon started to say something before biting it back. Armsmaster very carefully did not sigh out loud. Dragon could be a real stickler for the rules. After a moment's consideration, he decided he should encourage her to speak her piece. It wasn't that he was excited to hear an extended lecture on the first amendment, but it was better to get it out of the way now than for her to spring it on him after she'd had a while to get wound up about it.

"What?" he asked, taking a seat and laying out his tools. It was rude to talk and tinker, but he could do prep work while holding a conversation.

"Well..." Dragon said, strangely reluctant. "I wouldn't call it amateurish."

As his tools fell from his hands and scattered all over his workshop, Armsmaster found himself wishing fervently for a lecture on the first amendment.

ooOoo

Lisa sat in front of her computer and took a deep breath. She held it for a moment, then completed the cycle with a long slow exhalation. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Once she felt she'd reached the properly meditative state of mind, she asked herself a question. Was she ready? She reached to the side and slugged back the rest of her cup of coffee. Probably not. On the other hand, did it matter? She directed her gaze to the post-it note stuck to the top of her monitor and its simple message: "SMILE."

Lisa felt her usual grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. It wasn't like she'd ever shied away from winging it in the past.

Before she could lose her nerve, she flipped open her business phone and punched in a number that definitely wasn't on her contact list. The call was picked up after only two rings.

"Tattletale," Coil said, after a brief pause.

Surprised that I would call. Angry. Angry at the world in general. Angry at me in particular. Wants to-

Lisa shut down that train of thought before it could get too dark and focused on that initial reaction. However minor, however controlled his reaction, Coil was surprised that she had called.

This must be how it had felt to club Vikare and watch him crumble. Coil presented himself as the man with all the answers. An invulnerable mastermind. And now that she had poked a hole in the facade, that whole image just dried up and blew away in the wind. If Coil could be surprised, then Coil could be killed.

Lisa was lost in her daydreams of outwitting and destroying Coil for what her power helpfully informed her was 1.83 seconds before she got her head back in the game and started making her play.

"We've got a deal, right?" she said, not disguising the irritation she always felt when speaking with Coil. "Consider this your Tattletale early warning call. Your plan worked. Kaiser's on the war path. Setting up a blitzkreig, even."

One silver lining to living in Brockton Bay was that she got to break out the Nazi-related wordplay that she would otherwise never get to use outside of the Internet.

"My plan?" Coil asked.

Still pissed, still murderous, slightly confused.

"You know, blowing up his bodyguard and blaming it on a bunch of normies?" Lisa said, making sure to really stretch her smile so that it would be obvious over the phone. "Points for style, but it wasn't that hard to figure out."

She was coming up on the moment of truth. She had half expected Coil to hang up by now, but it looked like she was going to get the chance to plant her little seed of doubt.

"Oh?" Coil asked.

Still pissed, still murderous, more confused.

"There aren't that many people in Brockton Bay with military grade weaponry and the discipline to use it well," she replied. "Especially once you exclude the Nazis."

"Suppose it wasn't my plan," Coil said.

Coil's reaction was always going to be the trickiest part of her scheme. It was easy enough to convince the Nazis that the hit was Coil's doing, but Coil himself would naturally know of his own innocence. He was also the only person in town besides her who had caught a good look at Tenten's lethality. It probably wouldn't be enough for him to be able to convince the Empire to stand down, but he'd still be able to do quite a bit of damage by lashing out at Lisa and Tenten.

Fortunately, Coil was a paranoid son of a bitch. By this point in the conversation, Lisa just had to do what came naturally.

She laughed. Full belly laughs, right into the receiver. Finally, she brought herself under control, though she was still a little out of breath when she spoke.

"Oh wait, you're serious?"

Lisa laughed harder.

To his credit, Coil didn't hang up on her. He didn't get to his lofty position in the criminal underworld by being impatient. He did sound like he was just about at the end of his rope when he spoke, though.

"I asked a question."

"Ok, ok, just, give me a minute," Lisa said, rubbing the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Oh... oh! All right, one thousand dollars."

"Tattletale," Coil said, a distinct note of warning in his voice.

Really wants to kill me right now.

To be fair, the feeling was mutual.

"What? This isn't a warning, this is an investigation," Lisa said, keeping her tone light. "You know it's a good price for a genuine thinker analysis."

"Very well," Coil said. It sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth, but Lisa could hear the tapping of a keyboard through the receiver. A moment later one of her open tabs flashed an alert that turned out to be a notice of a thousand dollars being deposited in her bank account. She felt a brief pang of regret that she hadn't asked for more money.

"It's midnight," Tattletale said, pitching her voice as best she could to approximate a movie trailer voice over, "do you know where your mercenaries are?"

"What's your point?" Coil asked.

"You only hire the best of the best, right?" Tattletale said, pausing only briefly for his grunt of acknowledgement. "Real hard core black ops spooks. The type who topple governments for fun. Now they're in Brockton, stuck in a rut fending off the Empire. Is it really a surprise some of them decided to take off the kid gloves?"

"They wouldn't-"

"Let's be honest... when you hired these guys, how high up was 'integrity' on the list of job qualifications?" Tattletale said, then laughed again when Coil didn't respond. "I could nail things down more specifically if you let me look at your personnel files."

"You've done quite enough already," Coil said, before ending the call.

Lisa took a deep breath. On the exhale she made a conscious effort to release all of the nervous tension that had built up during the call. She took a moment to wonder why the strongest powers seemed to be handed out mostly to complete assholes. Then she shook off the stray thought and let her power fully off the leash.

He bought it. Not completely. Enough to create a reasonable doubt. Doubt that will grow when he discovers the attack was committed with guns that he bought. Still hates me on general principles. Still wants to kidnap me and turn me into his drug-addicted pet. Would settle for murdering me in a pinch.

She shuddered, only partly from the initial pangs of the headache induced by such unrestricted use of her power. Then she popped a pair of ibuprofen and fired up a note taking program on her computer.

She'd surprised Coil today. Somehow. She needed to wring every drop of information she could out of this phone call so that she could present him with a more fatal surprise in the future.

ooOoo

Tenten was lying on the floor of Lung's preferred meeting room in his casino with her hands laced together behind her head and her head propped up on the soft fabric of a balled up cloak. The lights were off, but the open window allowed both sunlight and a refreshing breeze into the room, making for a rather pleasant wait. Tenten sat up when she heard footsteps approaching from the end of the hall, stealing a quick glance at her watch. She couldn't help but shake her head at the ridiculous versatility of Lisa's kekkei genkai.

Well, there was no point in being jealous. Tenten was deriving plenty of advantage from her friend's strength. She arranged herself in front of the meeting room table before picking up her teacup and channeling a brief burst of elemental chakra into the liquid contained inside.

By the time the door opened Tenten was sitting in seiza at the table, a thin curl of steam rising from her cup of tea. As expected, Lung was the first one through the door. As soon as he saw her he froze. After a moment he sighed before turning and barking an order to his men in a language she didn't understand. His meaning became clear enough as he stepped into the room by himself, sliding the door closed behind him.

No serving girl today. It was good that he was taking her seriously.

Lung retrieved a small bottle of alcohol and poured himself a drink before taking a seat. He bypassed the armchair this time, but he still assumed a relaxed slouch as he sat on the floor across from her. He took a short sip of his drink and studied her for a long moment before he said anything.

"Last night was noisy," he said. Although it was a rebuke, from his tone of voice he may as well have been talking about the weather. Tenten felt some relief that, however debauched his usual behavior, Lung was capable of at least some professionalism.

As for the substance of his complaint, she thought it rather petty. Lisa's plan seemed to be proceeding smoothly, and in any event if things went wrong there was nothing to point back to him. "You did not specify the manner of death."

"I suppose it would be too much to expect a heart attack," Lung said, chuckling to himself.

Tenten cocked her head, not sure what he found humorous. After a moment Lung waved his hand dismissively. She mentally shrugged and let it go, content to get back to her script.

"Fenja is dead," she said, "and your enemies prepare to fight each other."

Really, sparking open bloodletting between two rivals who were well aware of the existence of a third rival was a lot harder than most people thought. Tenten could think of a few missions she'd been on that would have benefited from Lisa's brand of cunning. For results this good she would usually expect bonus pay.

Lung at least seemed to recognize their accomplishment, as he nodded in response to her words.

"Yes," Lung said, the levity gone from his voice, "your business is under my protection."

Tenten nodded.

"I will give you a second name when the time is right," Lung said.

This was within Lisa's expectations. Lung gave them the first name in order to test their sincerity. When it came to the second name, he would rather have it in his pocket saved against a future need rather than use it proactively. Lung was fundamentally lazy. He did not look to use his power in order to expand his reach, but rather stockpiled it in order to protect what he had.

Tenten nodded to acknowledge the debt, then began to stand. She stopped when Lung held up his hand.

"Who are you?" he asked, his eyes suddenly locked on to her with increased intensity.

She gave him a professional smile. "Tenten."

"No. You..." he trailed off for a moment, gesturing vaguely in the air as he searched for the right word, "you are too... too much to be a blade for hire. Why aren't you running your own gang?"

Despite all of her careful preparation, Tenten still felt her heart race as a pulse of anger shot right through her. Bad enough that she had to treat with a self-styled bandit lord as though he were her equal. Now he dared to suggest that she would make a fine bandit herself? It was the sort of insult that could only be answered with cold steel.

She caught herself before her hands did more than twitch toward her hidden blades. Lung flinched back slightly, prompting her to release the hold on her chakra that had been subtly broadcasting her killing intent.

This was for a mission. Self-assigned, yes, but still a mission. Even if she couldn't comport herself with the bone-deep control that would come along with official orders from Konoha-a flaw that she would have to work on, now that she had noticed it-she could at least control herself well enough to stick to Lisa's well thought out plan.

Perhaps a few alterations were in order.

"Why aren't I building a castle on the sand?" Tenten asked, not trying to hide her sneer. "Why not live to satisfy my appetites? Why not die a pointless death?"

She punctuated her rhetorical questions with a cold snort. This time, Lung did not attempt to stop her as she rose to her feet.

As she stood, she took hold of a cloak that had been lying next to her on the floor. Once she was on her feet she spun, allowing the cloak to flare out as though she were putting it on. As soon as her body was fully hidden by the cloak she brought her hands together and performed a flash step out the window, alighting on the roof of the building across the street before the cloak had settled on the floor.

Tenten shook her head as she made her way across the rooftops back home. Lisa was going to chide her, and she probably deserved it. The two of them would be well served to stay on good terms with Lung and his gang. Still, though, there was only so much she could do if he couldn't keep a civil tongue in his head.

ooOoo

AN: Obligatory Coil explanation: with the Empire making an active push for lebensraum he doesn't have the luxury of splitting the timeline every time he answers the phone.