***
Five hours later, Sell-sword walked into Riots control room to find Silicon and Lady waiting for him. "So, interesting development," he announced.
"The Raiders usual lawyers aren't going anywhere near the ones we took down earlier."
"Very interesting," Silicon agreed, curiosity clear in her voice, even through the electronic filtering. "It seems that Colonel Duray is making
a statement."
"To us, or the idiots that went off on what looks like an unsanctioned op?" Ifrit wondered.
"Possibly both," Sword said with a slight shrug. "He'll probably bust them out after they've been made miserable in the Zig for a while.
For us, it's his way of saying 'this was unsanctioned, please don't blow up my oil refinery mansion.'" The fey woman chuckled slightly.
"I'm guessing we're not blowing up the refinery?" He asked after a moment, sounding ever so slightly eager.
"Please. Longbow and Arachnos 'Destined Ones' trash that place on a regular basis and never do much damage. It'd take all of Riot and the
Legendary to burn it down, and a lot of them wouldn't be comfortable with that." Sell-Sword shrugged, having gotten used to the attitudes of heroes a
long time ago. "I want you to send the Raiders a message. Nothing blatantly public, but one they'll understand. Pick your own team, people you think
can get the job done."
"You want details?" he asked bluntly.
"I prefer to know what I pay you for," she replied honestly.
The armored mercenary considered this, then nodded, face hidden inside his power armor as always. "And the Council?"
"We can be a lot more public with them," Ifrit said. "Who cares when a bunch of Nazis get blown up?"
"They're not technically Nazis," Silicon noted. "That was the Column."
"And yet, no one cares still," Ifrit replied with a slightly evil grin. The Knight Sabre leader considered this, then nodded in agreement.
***
Bobby Blue-Eyes, the current super-powered thug in charge of Family operations on Striga Isle, jumped back from the table with a growl as a pair of Mooks flew
through the dining rooms closed doors and landed in his dinner. "Alright, whose the creep that's messin' with my meal?" he growled.
"Creeps, plural," Leon McNicol replied with a lazy grin as he stepped inside. Out in the hallway, his human partner finished introducing another Mook
to a pot plant, then followed him in.
The gangster looked at them in surprise, then chuckled. "Well, if it ain't my two of my least favorite boys of the badge. McNicol, Wong, youse two is
a little outta your jurisdiction here, ain't youse?" He made a show of cracking his knuckles. "Striga's not in Paragon... anyways, you'd
need a warrant there too." He stepped around the table, grin widening. "Guess I'll hafta teach youse how things work outside Paragon City."
Daley Wong tilted his head to the side in apparent confusion, then looked over at Leon. "He doesn't know?" he asked in a tone of exaggerated
curiosity.
"He doesn't know," Leon confirmed. "We'll have to explain it to him."
Pausing, the Family boss looked between them. "What?" he asked, right as another group of thugs charged down the hallway behind the two detectives.
Leon turned, pulling the massive rifle off his back and firing. One of the mooks flew back, followed by another a moment later. Bobby lunged, hoping to use the
distraction, but found Daley intercepting him. He didn't get a chance to work out what happened, the world blurring into pain for a moment, and then he was
on the ground, back stinging from the impact, and Daleys foot was pressed up against his throat.
"Let's just say there's been a little change in our status since you ran away from Paragon on drugs charges," Daley smirked. "See,
we're part of a new division. One that combines the two main kinds of law enforcement. Police..."
"And heroes," Leon smirked, stepping into Bobbys field of view. "While we've got the paperwork still, if we were to tag some goon out here
on Striga, well... it wouldn't really matter to the courts, would it?"
Bobby's eyes visibly widened as he put the pieces together. He'd been shipped out of Paragon by the Family on the grounds of his father, and the hope
that on Striga, he'd clean up his act somewhat and let the heat die down back home. If he was to end up back in the City of Heroes now, there was a good
chance the Family would wash their hands of him and leave him to rot in a cell.
"Of course, we could just leave for now," Leon said. "Come after you another time. Give us what we want, and we'll be out of your
hair."
"Youse gotta be joking..."
"We're not," Daley replied, internally wincing at Bobby's mangling of the English language. "Right now, Paragon Special Investigations
has more important things to worry about." He smiled, holding up a teleport beacon. "Now... all you have to do, is answer a few questions about the
Council operations here..."
***
The guards on duty kept their weapons at the ready, even as they saw that the current hero using the wonders of quick prisoner transport had the decency to
send their capture through handcuffed.
"But... but... youse lied to me!" Bobby yelled at the roof as he was dragged off for processing.
***
Five hours later, Sell-sword walked into Riots control room to find Silicon and Lady waiting for him. "So, interesting development," he announced.
"The Raiders usual lawyers aren't going anywhere near the ones we took down earlier."
"Very interesting," Silicon agreed, curiosity clear in her voice, even through the electronic filtering. "It seems that Colonel Duray is making
a statement."
"To us, or the idiots that went off on what looks like an unsanctioned op?" Ifrit wondered.
"Possibly both," Sword said with a slight shrug. "He'll probably bust them out after they've been made miserable in the Zig for a while.
For us, it's his way of saying 'this was unsanctioned, please don't blow up my oil refinery mansion.'" The fey woman chuckled slightly.
"I'm guessing we're not blowing up the refinery?" He asked after a moment, sounding ever so slightly eager.
"Please. Longbow and Arachnos 'Destined Ones' trash that place on a regular basis and never do much damage. It'd take all of Riot and the
Legendary to burn it down, and a lot of them wouldn't be comfortable with that." Sell-Sword shrugged, having gotten used to the attitudes of heroes a
long time ago. "I want you to send the Raiders a message. Nothing blatantly public, but one they'll understand. Pick your own team, people you think
can get the job done."
"You want details?" he asked bluntly.
"I prefer to know what I pay you for," she replied honestly.
The armored mercenary considered this, then nodded, face hidden inside his power armor as always. "And the Council?"
"We can be a lot more public with them," Ifrit said. "Who cares when a bunch of Nazis get blown up?"
"They're not technically Nazis," Silicon noted. "That was the Column."
"And yet, no one cares still," Ifrit replied with a slightly evil grin. The Knight Sabre leader considered this, then nodded in agreement.
***
Bobby Blue-Eyes, the current super-powered thug in charge of Family operations on Striga Isle, jumped back from the table with a growl as a pair of Mooks flew
through the dining rooms closed doors and landed in his dinner. "Alright, whose the creep that's messin' with my meal?" he growled.
"Creeps, plural," Leon McNicol replied with a lazy grin as he stepped inside. Out in the hallway, his human partner finished introducing another Mook
to a pot plant, then followed him in.
The gangster looked at them in surprise, then chuckled. "Well, if it ain't my two of my least favorite boys of the badge. McNicol, Wong, youse two is
a little outta your jurisdiction here, ain't youse?" He made a show of cracking his knuckles. "Striga's not in Paragon... anyways, you'd
need a warrant there too." He stepped around the table, grin widening. "Guess I'll hafta teach youse how things work outside Paragon City."
Daley Wong tilted his head to the side in apparent confusion, then looked over at Leon. "He doesn't know?" he asked in a tone of exaggerated
curiosity.
"He doesn't know," Leon confirmed. "We'll have to explain it to him."
Pausing, the Family boss looked between them. "What?" he asked, right as another group of thugs charged down the hallway behind the two detectives.
Leon turned, pulling the massive rifle off his back and firing. One of the mooks flew back, followed by another a moment later. Bobby lunged, hoping to use the
distraction, but found Daley intercepting him. He didn't get a chance to work out what happened, the world blurring into pain for a moment, and then he was
on the ground, back stinging from the impact, and Daleys foot was pressed up against his throat.
"Let's just say there's been a little change in our status since you ran away from Paragon on drugs charges," Daley smirked. "See,
we're part of a new division. One that combines the two main kinds of law enforcement. Police..."
"And heroes," Leon smirked, stepping into Bobbys field of view. "While we've got the paperwork still, if we were to tag some goon out here
on Striga, well... it wouldn't really matter to the courts, would it?"
Bobby's eyes visibly widened as he put the pieces together. He'd been shipped out of Paragon by the Family on the grounds of his father, and the hope
that on Striga, he'd clean up his act somewhat and let the heat die down back home. If he was to end up back in the City of Heroes now, there was a good
chance the Family would wash their hands of him and leave him to rot in a cell.
"Of course, we could just leave for now," Leon said. "Come after you another time. Give us what we want, and we'll be out of your
hair."
"Youse gotta be joking..."
"We're not," Daley replied, internally wincing at Bobby's mangling of the English language. "Right now, Paragon Special Investigations
has more important things to worry about." He smiled, holding up a teleport beacon. "Now... all you have to do, is answer a few questions about the
Council operations here..."
***
The guards on duty kept their weapons at the ready, even as they saw that the current hero using the wonders of quick prisoner transport had the decency to
send their capture through handcuffed.
"But... but... youse lied to me!" Bobby yelled at the roof as he was dragged off for processing.
***