Orb Weaver: Within the Serpent's Coils: Chapter 6

The plan didn’t take long to get ready and the diner owners were only too pleased. But I gave Aisha strict instructions. If the men in the van got out, she wasn’t to confront them, even as a number.

But when three numbers came running out of the diner, each one wearing a quickly made cardboard placard, and started doing over the top stunts, a crowd gathered. One Number, quite by accident, jumped onto the van I’d picked out and began extolling the virtues of the Diner. “And it won’t even give you food poisoning!” The crowd laughed. There was no reaction from inside the van.

Good. That solidified my belief that this was a covert snatch job. They would wait until the crowd dispersed. And given Aisha’s antics…

“Ready?” I asked her.

“I got the plan,” Aisha said.

“I can—“ I cut Dinah off. “You said you’re hurting right now to ask questions. If we need you, I’ll ask, but we don’t want to ask too many questions when we don’t need them.” And besides, nobody’s waiting out back. My bugs could see that. It didn’t take long to convince the store owner that we’d prefer to avoid the chaos out front and leave through the back. Aisha was chatting with the patrons, even as three of her Numbers were dancing out front and likely giving Image a headache.

Which was of course, a part of the plan. All the cameras would ensure that the PRT would see this, especially given Aisha’s unauthorized little exercise—and they would see the license plate of the van, especially since a Number was standing on it. Under the hood, I’d sent some roaches to start pulling at certain wires.

Our unknown opponent had outfoxed themselves. A ratty van, bought or stolen, would have no incriminating trail. Any investigation would stop at the curb or used car lot where it was obtained. But this vehicle… no. I expected they would be very worried about just that.

But now it was time to leave. Dinah and I got up and headed for the rear. Right by the door, Number 4 waited for us, out of sight of the rest of the patrons. There was nobody in the alleyway, and nobody moving towards us as far as my bugs could tell.

Moments later, I heard a dim Thank yew! Thank yew! From the road and with a twisting of space, the Number vanished, leaving Aisha standing next to us.

“You have the plan?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Good, the store is this way.”

We moved. The crowd was dispersing, and any moment the crew would find out that the van wouldn’t start. That was the time when Mr. X, whoever the hell they were, would, if they could, start sending in more people. Buses and taxis were out. Too easy to intercept, too easy to suborn. While we were walking, I used my phone to book two tickets to LA, about two hours from now. Later than I wanted, but they were the best option, a nonstop flight.

“Keep going,” I said.

Dinah was looking nervous once again, glancing from door to door as we headed down the alleyway.

Nervous, not panicked. That was good. Only an idiot wouldn’t be nervous.

We were beyond range of my bugs, but they had to know that the van was dead now. So what were they doing…

“Wait!” I snapped. Another vehicle had turned to parallel us. My bugs managed to get into it, at least a few and… Gun oil. Men.

Another team. Damn. It.

“Wait.” I glanced around. The van would turn onto this alley in just a few—“When I tell you, run, as fast as you can, across the street. Then turn left onto 4th.”

“I—“

“Now.” I cut Dinah off, and I and Aisha grabbed her by her arms and we ran.

Ten seconds or less before they turn onto this street and see us. Keep moving… Dinah was struggling to keep up as we hauled her after us. Then we were on the other street, and the van turned in the opposite direction, looking like it was marking out a search grid.

Shit.

“Thinker bullshit for the win,” Aisha said.

“Not yet.” The store was in front of us, a big thrift store, run by the local Catholic Charity, that I’d used. “Let’s go.”

Inside, I looked around and nodded. “We have what we need. Aisha, get the wheelchair.”

As she did, I grabbed clothes from the wall, a shawl, things that looked like they came from a estate sale. Then I turned around to go to Aisha.

No vans. But they would be looking for someone running out of their search area. Not shopping.

“Dinah. Put this on.”

“But it’s… It smells.” Dinah pouted.

“That’s part of the disguise.” She nodded and wrapped the robe around her. Then I put the scarf on, and lastly the old lady hat. “Tilt your head down, like you’re sleeping.” Good. “Don’t move too much. If you’re walking, anyone could see you as a kid. Here you just look like a small, old lady, with her child walking her.” While I was talking, I got a garish yellow jacket for me along with a pair of sunglasses. My own glasses went into my pocket. I couldn’t read like this, so I’d use my bugs.

Then we went up to the nearly comatose clerk and I paid. He barely even glanced at Dinah.

“Aisha,” I said. “Better head back home. You’re too recognizable and I don’t want you to hear this, since making you lie to your bosses is bad form.”

“Right, Don Hebert.” Aisha grinned. “Man, if this is what happens today, what’ll happen Friday?”

“Hopefully, school.” With that, Aisha high-fived me and headed off back towards the Diner, no doubt intending to make a lot of noise.

“What if they catch us?” Dinah asked.

“Why would they stop a grandmother and her granddaughter?” I asked. “Now grandmother, just you sleep with your eyes closed. We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were younger than your years!”

Dinah nodded and then a few moments later, I was pushing the wheelchair down the road.

I wouldn’t contact Dad until I got to the airport. No sense in risking a tap on the various cell phone providers, not until we were in a place with heavy security.

I kept pushing Dinah slowly, a few bystanders getting out of our way. The van turned the corner and headed for me. I didn’t tense outwardly, but every bug for blocks around me was held in my grip, ready to be unleashed.

The van drove up, slowed down… and turned down another street. I didn’t speed up, or slow down. They were both looking for Dinah and trying to spook Dinah. A little whimper from under her hat let me know they were doing that just fine.

“It’s okay, Grandmother,” I said. “I know you’re worried, but everything is fine…”

 *****

By the time we got to the airport, I was tired. I wheeled Dinah into a bathroom. “Here you go, Grandmother,” I said, pushing her into the handicapped stall. “Take off your disguise and fold the wheelchair against the side,” I told her in a whisper.

“But—“

“You said it would hurt to make another prediction. Is that still the case?”

“I… It’ll hurt, but I can do it.”

“Chance you get to LA successfully and safely in the next day.”

“Ninety-five percent!” she said, wincing, and then hugged me. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet.” That’s still a one in twenty chance of something going wrong. Not what I’d hoped. The five percent could be anything from some good Samaritan deciding to stop a “kidnapping” to our unknown enemy deciding to hit the airport with a parahuman attack.

But as we walked out, I guided Dinah through the blind spots where no camera saw, while I called Dad on a burner phone.

“Hello?” he said on the fourth ring.

“Uncle Danny!” I said, in a chipper voice. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice tense. “How is your day?”

Uncle Danny was a code for things were tense but not immediately desperate. I hadn’t handed him a ton of phrases and such—to be honest, from my studies, trying that went wrong more than it went right. So just a few phrases to let him know how serious things were and the rest… well, I would trust Dad’s intelligence.

“Oh it’s totally fine!” I said. “But Mary, she’s my friend, she has a creepy foster dad who is a total jerk and he was looking for her all over town. It’s stupid, but she’s sort of scared so I was wondering if you could do me a HUGE favor.”

‘What favor would that be?”

“Well, just fly to LA with her. It’s not like her foster dad is a national organization, so his reach is stuck to the Bay. I bet this whole argument will be over in about a week.”

“Her boyfriend, he wouldn’t happen to be the kind of person with a magic reach, now would he?”

“Oh, he’s done things that might be magic.”

“I see. The airport?”

“I already have the tickets.”

“I’ll be there.”

The next thirty minutes were some of the most nerve-wracking in my life. Dinah sat down on a bench, as I got the tickets and we waited—then Dad showed up.

“Taylor,” He said without a preamble. “That’s… Taylor you do know that taking a minor out of the Bay like this could be considered kidnapping.”

“I know, Dad,” I said. “But we’ve dodged at least two teams of mercenaries—professional teams, well equipped.” I glanced at Dinah. “She’s a very powerful precog. You both have a 19 in twenty chance of getting to LA without any troubles.”

“And a one in twenty chance…”

“Yes. Be careful. I… I’ll be contacting someone to meet you who will hopefully be able to smooth over any issues.” Or put Dad in Prison for Kidnapping. “Also, don’t ask Dinah questions. If she tries to answer it can trigger her power and she only gets limited uses. She’s powerful, open-ended questions with the answers expressed as a percentage.”

“Taylor.”

“Yes?”

“You were in school. How is it that you manage to just walk into these things?”

I shrugged. “The Investigator is increasingly a secret identity in only the loosest terms, and I was with Aisha.”

“Ah.”

I waited until they had both boarded the plan, watching as it flew down the runway. Now for the hard part.

I called a number I had been given.

“Piggot.”

“Director Piggot, this is The Investigator.”

“I know. Why did you have Krewe engaged in an entirely unauthorized stunt? She’s refusing to talk.” She sounded unhappy.

“To assist an extremely powerful precog. A precog that gave a 90 percent chance that being handed over to the Brockton Bay PRT or Protectorate would see harm come to her, and yet had a better than ninety percent chance that harm would not come to her if she went to LA. I expect you understand the implications.”

There was a brief, seething, silence. “You believe we are compromised.”

“Yes. The girl is accompanied, and I would like you to assist me in one thing. I have done good work for the Protectorate, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then a five-minute call to Alexandria would not be out of line, and I expect, since she is in the LA branch, we can assume that the factors that led to the prediction regarding the Bay PRT would not hold.”

“Give me a moment.”

Piggot was angry, but we had a good enough working relationship that she was willing to trust me on this. That was good. Talking to the woman most likely to unravel my deceptions not so good, but I would not risk Dinah—or Dad.

There was a click and a famous voice sounded. “This is Alexandria. I’m currently rather busy, Investigator.”

“I will not waste your time. There is what appears to be a very high-level precog coming into LA, who needs protection.”

“How powerful?”

“I did not have a chance to fully vet her abilities, but she can make percentage-based predictions taking outside factors into account that can extend for weeks—or longer.” I paused. “Someone else was eager enough to secure her services that they sent multiple teams of mercenaries to scour the city for her, and might,” I stressed the word, “have the local PRT and Protectorate branches extensively penetrated. The prediction was a ninety percent chance of things going poorly if she turned herself over to them.”

“Who is she and who is accompanying her?”

“Dinah Alcott. Danny Hebert is with her. They will be arriving at LAX at 11:30.”

“I will have people to meet them—people I trust. Chief Director Costa Brown will be in contact with Director Piggot, and she will be in touch with you. Goodbye.”

I didn’t mind. Alexandria was a very busy woman, after all, and I had probably dropped some bombs. And if she was too busy to seriously investigate me… well, all the better.

With that, I went home. Although it was a little confusing. I would have expected my mysterious foe to have made at least one overt attempt to seize Dinah.

Why hadn’t they?