Orb Weaver: Wrath of God, Interlude, Streets and Towers.

Luka Gonzalez had lived in the bay all his life. He’d been here before Empire, before the E88, hell, before the parahumans. He’d lived in the days when trying to fight a cop got you shot, before the cops just had to back off in front of a guy who could turn into a dragon.

Like anyone in the Bay he knew that there were places you didn’t go, things you didn’t say. Unless you wanted to end up at Mercy General from a beating or the morgue from a beating that got a little out of hand.

But now…

Luka sat on his front porch and watched. The E88 gangers were nowhere to be seen. Those arrogant little bands of teens and “soldiers” were usually walking around like they fucking owned the place. He’d liked the little Deli, nice Jewish couple, but after their boy had been beaten to a pulp protecting his girlfriend, they’d left. Now it was an empty store front, E88 slogans painted on it, the windows shattered.

At least, that was how it had been.

Now the E88 slogans were gone, somehow erased in the night, and a big orb weaver spider emblem had replaced them.

One ganger had started to paint over it, but suddenly a tide of fucking rats had come roaring out of the drainage grate and he’d taken off screaming. Nobody fucked with it after that.

And the gangers… They hid. If they were on the street, they kept hoodies up, and if they had tats, they covered them up.

Luka didn’t know what the hell they’d done…

But for now, he just enjoyed sitting on his porch and watching the show.

****

Sergeant Lorimar enjoyed his job. Evidence locker was an easy job, something he was owed after years on the service, and the E88 paid him to make some things vanish. It was only fair. After all, they protected the Bay from the Darkies and Slants and he got some money—especially if he slipped some special packages into the units of cops who didn’t understand who the true protectors of the Bay were.

But now… now there was this fucking Orb Weaver. Cops weren’t properly deferential, and the FBI was snooping around. That had happened before, but then that Chink reporter had been taken out, how Lorimar didn’t know, and fucking Orb Weaver had gone berserk! Who the fuck thought he was a hero after he took a man and his friends and turned them to bone!

Fucking Detective Harris had been on a phone, and Lorimar had heard that the FBI was sniffing closer, so he’d taken some of the product, left bags of baking soda in its place. He was gonna leave and nobody was going to—

“Sergeant Lorimar?”

“I’m on my lunch break!” Then he heard the sound of someone opening the evidence room cage.

Fucker’s I’ll—He stopped. There was Detective Harris, looking fucking happy. Next to him were two other guys, and behind them were some of the cops who didn’t respect the Empire.

“What is this?”

“Sergeant Lorimar, I’m Agent Davis with the FBI. I have an arrest warrant for you.”

“For what?”

“Tampering with evidence, trafficking drugs across state lines, falsifying evidence, conspiracy to deprive American citizens of their rights under color of law…”

“You got not—“ He fell silent as Harris, the fucker, held up one of the bags he’d put in his car.

“Bet there’s a lot of baking soda in the evidence room.” Harris smiled. “You know, Orb Weaver and I were gonna do this earlier, but Leviathan intervened, and then someone really managed to piss off Orb Weaver.”

Lorimar looked to the right and left. There was no way out. “I want a lawyer.” He said.

“First smart thing you’ve done in a long time,” Harris said, and he kept that fucking smile on as he walked up with the cuffs.

*****

“We will defeat Orb Weaver!” Kaiser snarled. “I’ll see him dead in front of me.”

The group was small. Mostly higher up lieutenants, both powered and non powered.

Rather fewer of the latter, James Fliescher thought.

“We haven’t even seen the fucker,” Crusader muttered. “Coward.”

“He has Victor.” James said. “That means that when, not if, Victor talks, he’ll implicate…” He shook his head. “Everything.”

“Victor won’t talk!” Kaiser said.

“Really,” Hookwolf said. “He vanishes, along with Othala and Rune, right after fucking Orb Weaver turns your secret weapon into a bunch of Halloween decorations. If Victor wasn’t gonna talk, they’d all be skeletons as well.”

“Well we know who we have to thank for that!” Kaiser snarled. “There’s one person here who has met Orb Weaver, and yet he never seems to find the right time to fight, correct, Brad!”

Hookwolf started to swell up… 

James shook his head, heading off the explosion. “We need to focus on Orb Weaver, not fighting among ourselves. My sources… they include thinker support.”

“So what the fuck did they say?” Hookwolf growled.

“Orb Weaver is very unusual. He’s either everywhere or nowhere. As for his powers…” James shook his head. “Our best thinkers can’t explain it. Thinkers aren’t always… clear, but they should be indicating what he can do. None of them were even able to explain how he killed Lebensraum. One of our forecasters even claimed that Lebensraum didn’t die directly from his power.” He scoffed. “Evidently, killing someone by stripping them to the bone is something anyone can do.”

“So, fucking useless,” Hookwolf growled, and Cricket and Stormtiger nodded.

“A stranger.” Kaiser shook his head. “That’s all they have? A stranger?”

“It’d make sense,” Crusader muttered. “Lebensraum didn’t even notice—fuck, could Orb Weaver be like Nice Guy?”

James sighed. This wasn’t going to be received well. “They did manage to find something else out, from the Houston department of the PRT.”

Everyone sat up straight. For James to openly allude to the fact that the Gesellschaft had access to intelligence sources that high up was very unusual.

“What?”

“Director Piggot has requested Eidolon relocate closer to the city, in case Orb Weaver goes off the reservation.”

“Fuck…” Stormtiger said.

“Ain’t the biggest problem, Max,” Hookwolf said. “Half our lower managers are running, in jail, or expecting to get a visit.”

“Well, then, Brad what do we do?”

“Break up and hide,” James said before Brad replied. “Leave Medhall in hands of people who don’t know what is going on. If they can’t find direct links, we can always come back later. Especially once Lung and the chinks start running wild and reminding everyone why they need the Empire.  If we stay in the open, we’re fodder for all the sealed indictments that I expect are heading our way.”

“What?” Kaiser said. “The Empire has never fled this city!”

“Not forever, but until we can get a bigger handle on what Orb Weaver can do,” James told his boss. “Or until the Protectorate takes him out for us.”

“No!” Kaiser snapped. “We’ll find him and kill him. I want everyone to look for The Investigator. That bitch has been working  with Orb Weaver.”

“She’s gone dark. Her father is at the PRT,” Hookwolf said.

“Then find one of her associates,” Kaiser growled. “I’m certain we can convince them to turn her in, and this time, I’ll handle her interrogation. She’ll tell us everything and then bring Orb Weaver to us.” He looked down and hit a contact note on his phone, his motions angry.

“Kayden? Dammit, answer, It’s Max.”

“Ah, Max, how do you do this fine evening?” The voice, even from the phone, seemed to fill the room. Kaiser stood stock still for a moment, then his face turned red.

“You! If you’ve hurt—“

“Calm yourself, Max. I merely made them an offer, and they took it. Your family is quite safe now. Especially from you. If you are willing to surrender, I might put in a good word for visitation rights, presuming they were willing…”

The phone died as Kaiser crushed it in his hand and then flung it across the room.

“Get. Fucking. Investigator!” He snarled. “Everyone on that. Also, I want our soldiers ready for a demonstration to distract the PRT once I have her. I don’t want anyone interrupting our discussion.” His voice was ugly. “Now get out.”

James nodded, and left, speaking to nobody else. Walking to his office, he sighed as he looked at it. Rich furnishings, sitting just below Kaiser’s office, it was a sign of their dominance over the Bay.

Well it had been. Now it was just a sign of how big a target they were.

Victor’s turned.   They were being quiet and coy, but all you had to do was notice how many people were being arrested. How many were turning themselves in. Orb Weaver, wasn’t going after the capes—well not solely going after the capes. Every man trying to save himself from prison was more information, more probable cause…

And Max didn’t seem to realize it. Or maybe he couldn’t accept that one cape had been enough to tear down the work of generations.

James started typing a report, only half thinking about it, while he called his wife.

“James! How are you?”

“Fine honey. Do you need any groceries for the refrigerator?”

She stilled for a moment. The code that they both knew. Are you and the kids okay?

“Just some vegetables.” Yes.

“You know, I don’t feel like shopping tonight.”  We need to leave.

“Do you want to eat out?” How soon?

“Yes. Not fast food, something better.”  Right now. “Bring the kids, and we can make a family night of it.” Leave now. Don’t take anything.

“The place on Fourth?”  Boston?

“Sounds good, I’ll meet you there.” Don’t wait for me.

“Okay, Honey. Love you.”

“Love you.” There was no code to those words. They were true.

Orb Weaver hasn’t targeted families. Not yet. But the moment Kaiser grabs The Investigator…  The Investigator had become poison, and James had suggested they just leave her alone. But kidnapping an all but open cape? One who had gone head to head with Leviathan?  The Protectorate and ABB would race to avenge her.

Kaiser didn’t realize that the E88 was part of the movement, but not the entire movement. The movement would survive, but if he refused to abandon the temple to his own glory… Well.

Pity. James had liked Max.

He finished the report sending it in, and then shut down the computer. Going down he said good bye to the evening staff.

The worst thing you could do if you thought you were under observation was to panic and run. If they were tracking you, you’d reveal yourself to them and if not, someone might wonder why you were running.

But even so, his skin crawled as he walked though the parking structure to his car. He didn’t check it for bugs or monsters. Why would a legitimate businessman do that?

Then he was driving. Heading for Fourth street… and incidentally the onramp to the Interstate.

In fifteen minutes he’d be well beyond the city limits. In an hour they’d be in Boston, and from there would fly out to London. The kids would miss their friends at school, but well, they were used to moving.

The key to survival was knowing when the war was lost.

And James believed that the war in the Bay was, for now, lost.

But he would survive.