Book 2: Chapter 58: Times Up (1/2)
Dan dressed quickly, fumbling with his phone all the while. He checked his missed calls, but didn't recognize the number. No voicemail was left; what a time for a telemarketer. Next was Abby's text, and he sent a quick reply saying that he was awake, before shaking the sleep out his brain and calling her. She picked up on the first ring.
”Danny?” her hushed, worried voice asked.
”Hey Abs, I'm awake, I'm fine,” Dan quickly reassured her. ”What'd I miss? The news is exploding and I can't keep up.”
”Mama Ana left like ten minutes after you went to sleep,” Abby said, and he got the impression that she was glancing furtively around. ”She was in a real hurry, too. I haven't seen or heard from her since, and we're all sorta locked in the mansion at the moment.”
”Are you okay?” he demanded, mentally calculating the immense difficulty of breaking her out of her own family's fortress.
”I'm fine,” she replied quickly, and Dan only heard sincerity. ”We're not trapped here, but grandma's people are saying we should probably stick around. It's a suggestion. Honestly, it is. I just don't think it's smart to ignore it. Mama Ana seemed really serious this time.”
Dan let out a quiet sigh. ”Good. That's... good. Just stay there, and be safe.”
”I think you should join me,” Abby said suddenly.
Dan frowned and shook his head, then realized she couldn't see him.
”You really think so?” he asked instead.
”Things are getting really serious,” she said. ”The National Guard is one thing, they are basically just reinforcements for the APD. But a Federal Assault Team is something else entirely. If a SPEAR Team is a normal person, then a FAT has body mods, itchy trigger fingers, and a bucket of nitroglycerin. Collateral damage, Danny, lots of it. It's normal, and expected. Austin is about to become a war zone.”
”They don't even have a target!” Dan exclaimed, before realizing he might be wrong. He quickly checked his text from Gregoir, half-expecting it to be some kind of triumphant essay. Instead, he simply stated that he'd successfully convinced his judge and that the APD would soon have access to Burl Meyers' financial records. That was great, but hardly a silver bullet.
They were nowhere on Coldeyes, as far as Dan knew. The man might not even be in the state, if Dan's theory about a teleporter was accurate. Coldeyes had explicitly mentioned sticking around the city, but that could have easily been meant to mislead. But it had been several hours; plenty of time to discover where he'd bunkered down with his men. Most of the Crew's heavies were injured in the raid. At least, those that were in Austin...
Dan really hoped they didn't have a teleporter.
”They don't need a target,” Abby interrupted his musing. ”The FAT takes time to mobilize. Probably another twelve hours, at least. The National Guard take between six and ten, so they'll be in the city before morning. In the meantime, anyone breaking curfew is gonna be in for a world of trouble.”
”I saw that Coldwater contracted with the city,” Dan noted.
He could almost see her nodding. ”They'll probably be posted as security for sensitive infrastructure. Villains like to attack bridges, power plants, anything that can cause widescale panic.”
”So it's bad,” Dan summarized sadly. He didn't want to leave the city. He liked it here; it was where he kept all his stuff. And it felt too much like he was losing some kind of important battle. Abby was right, though. Dan had gotten by so far on luck, and the help of his friends. His interference had endangered himself and others, no matter what he'd found, and still people were dying. He'd felt less and less in control each day. Less and less useful.
He felt... defeated.
Dan had certainly done his part. Cornelius' rescue might have taken hours longer without Dan's power, but that was what he'd been trained to do. That was Dan's role: search and rescue, to help in a crisis. He wasn't APD. He wasn't a soldier, or a federal agent, or a private investigator. He was out of his depth, and that was growing more and more apparent. Even stumbling upon a goldmine, tracking the movements of Bartholomew and his savior, was pure luck, and it was only through Gregoir's assistance that anything at all would come of it.
Things were escalating out of control, and Dan feared he was no longer capable of making a measurable difference. He didn't have the skillset, nor the authority. He was stubborn, but he wouldn't risk destroying this new life he'd won for himself. He'd done everything that he could think of. Maybe it was time to get out of the way, and let the professionals do their job.
”Please, Danny.”
Hearing Abby's voice begging him to leave set his decision in stone.
”Okay,” he said, softly. ”I'll pack up some stuff, and head out of town before things get bad.”