Sitting in her office, the Brigadier watched the broadcast as it went loud wide across the cityscape. On her desk, a small glass of something strong, rich in colour and scent. Technically speaking, it was a violation of protocol to have such vices in official space, but the Brigadier was oft found untouchable by those who would criticize her for such things.
A grin adorned her features as she watched the Huntress spew her words. An eyebrow raised at the eloquence. For once, it was not an all out call for blood. Interesting, that, she mused, sipping her drink. Perhaps the old dog can learn. Oh, that was a funny thought. A temporary means to ensure no further loss of control, a calming voice rather than a fuming rant. The second it ended, she couldn't hold back the chuckle rumbling through her chest.
"Ahhh...Well...Credit where it's due, that wasn't entirely awful" spoken in a sharp, upbeat tone, the glass set down as she leant back in her chair for a few moments, before standing. One more swig, draining the glass, and then the bottle was tucked into a nearby bag as she marched out. She was keen to discuss the coming days with a close friend, someone else who'd allow her the freedom to speak her mind.
A few eyes met hers en route. Heels clicked together, salutes, returned with her firm smile and a nod. She'd earnt her place in those halls. Earnt her respect. And they knew it. None asked her intent as she made her way away from the Military halls, firmly towards R&D.
The drink? A gift. She had to ensure it was good quality first. Of course.
A long table, dark wood, with the insignia of each echelon burnt into their place. Atop it, various devices, monitors, keypads. Despite its length, the table sat only five, the other chairs pushed to the edge of the room in neat fashion, an edge that gave an impressive view.
The Cabinet gathered at the centre of the City, in a room that watched it from every angle.
At the head of the table stood the Huntress. Eliza Jones, impeccable in form, who would always rather stand than sit. Hers was one she would not have chosen to fill, but with a noted absence as always someone had to step in.
“The broadcasts, then.” No sense with pre-amble. “I trust you’ve all read the current intel we have at hand.” A look to another at the table, an elderly gentlemen, strong-jawed with deep set eyes, nodding in turn as he lifted a hand. The monitors hummed to life, a projection of the building bombed in question, lines tracing through the floorplans.
“The first incident. Suspect known as KILROY forced entry from the bottom floor” he began, slowly rising in turn. He flicked out a metallic pointer, using it to follow the lines, as though it made it more noteworthy. “Due to reallocating of military force, they were met with minimal force.” Photos slid into view from the scene, Loyalists knocked unconscious, Sniper units downed. “That, and they somehow managed to go undetected through most of the building.”
“Wasn’t that one of the broadcast centers highlighted at risk, Driscoll?” Asked one of the others. Unlike the head of Intel, her clothing was more civilian in nature, though still adorned with the regalia of their rank.
“....Yes...though it was on the lower end-” Driscoll began, before coughing. “In any case.” The floors cycled through until stopping a little above half way high, where the photos were dismissed for actual footage. It was distorted, obscured by smoke and shaky as anything, but a figure could be made out in the chaos, and a single glowing light.
“It was on the ninth floor that they were finally detected. Guard forces attempted to apprehend the intruder, but found themselves overwhelmed by a singular individual.” His words dripped with disdain, gaze swung over to the Brigadier for a moment. She kept her trademark grin.
“Met with unexpected force when already underpowered thanks to other’s intervention. They put up a valiant effort, considering the circumstances.” The words came easy, hands laid in her lap neatly.
“Nonetheless, they failed to stop the suspect. And so they reached the centre on the eleventh floor, and began their broadcast.”
“Not before the alarm was raised, and more men were sent to the area” the Brigadier countered. “One of which had noted a suspicious package on the suspect.”
“You were aware of the bomb threat?”
“Not until then. It was on the report I sent you, Driscoll.” She lifted her own copy, and then fanned it out to reveal other copies, which she handed about. “In case you lost track, however....”
Driscoll grumbled under his breath, before turning back to the issue at hand. A flick of the wrist, and the details shrunk as another set of images arose. “Then, the second incident, one month later. Similar break and entry, though this time they seemed to gain access from part ways up the building.” A pause. “CCTV caught sight of a smaller detonation, and smoke obscured their entry, but inspection after the fact made it evident it was KILROY’s point of entry.”
“Surely CCTV should have noticed their entry into a building adjacent to a broadcast centre?” Eliza asked, tone biting. Driscoll cleared his throat.
“That falls under the remit of Infrastructure-” began, before the civilian-clad woman tsked.
“Keen to throw me under?” uttered with annoyance, before she slid a small card into the projection device.
A myriad of screens lit up about the current focus, cameras from the screens showing all angles on the day. “We’ve reviewed all the footage. The building in question is housing, home to approximately two hundred and fifty seven legal tenants, and a suspected seventy-three illegal. None of which were seen in that KILROY’s odd getup entering or leaving” she clarified, both hands pushed against the table.
Driscoll raised a brow, a hint of amusement dancing across his features before he brought himself back in line. “Yes, thank you. In any case, the scene was much the same on inspection, though we did start to have some interesting accounts from those injured.” His eyes hovered back to the Brigadier, briefly sharp to Joker besides.
The Brigadier simply smiled wider. “Yes, indeed. I went and talked to them each personally, to ensure that what was said was nothing but the truth.” Another set of papers was produced, handed to Joker to pass along. “A copy, for each of your records, but eyewitness testimony seems to show an odd quirk to our suspect’s means. Some were brought down via what they saw as modified Sniper unit fire, others were, ahem…” She picked up her own copy to read verbatim, “smashed about roughly with a shield until they lost consciousness.”
“So this KILROY’s a resourceful sort” another commented, a younger man with red hair and questioning eyes, sitting comfortably. “Does this mean they’re responsible for the missing shipments in the last months?”
“Well, there’s certainly a high chance of that, yes” The Brigadier replied warmly, “considering the small scale of the thefts.” The papers were then tapped against the table. “But back to the point. Some were engaged differently, to quote, “A blur of green paint and red lights moved faster than we could fire.” “ She raised a brow. “Some even said the techniques mirrored some we train our own in.”
“Are you saying there’s a chance this KILROY is a traitor?” Eliza asked sharply. The Brigadier held back a snort.
“Surely that’s a given considering their actions?” she teased, earning an ireful look she paid no mind to. “But, in the context you mean, doubtful. Oh, there’s a chance it’s a late stage reject from the programme, but I highly doubt it’s actually one of our own. Why would they go out in our colours, and be so overt?” A small chuckle. “That would be foolish.”
Eliza gave the Brigadier a sidelong glance, clearly disapproving of her sense of humour, but found no other grounds for refute. “So, the second was much like the first. But what of the third?”
Once more, Driscoll flicked his wrist, and all the pertinent information flew to the side as the latest incident flew into sight. The images taken from this one seemed much more high impact, the broadcast station heavily armoured. “Three weeks ago, one of the more central stations was broken into. Unlike the prior times, this entry was a lot quieter.” He paused, bringing up images that highlighted their entry point. “They entered through the ventilation, and only engaged those they had to.” He sighed. “Considering we were unable to discern their identity before, there’s a chance that several civilians spotted about the area could be the suspect in disguise. And due to the nature of our operations, it’s become common knowledge that such broadcast relays are being...bolstered, security-wise.”
“Mmmm, and yet they found a way to weasel in regardless” The Brigadier murmured, face part-obscured by a gloved hand, a smirk visible only to Joker. “Most unfortunate. Especially as they managed more than simple audio this time.”
Joker adjusted his own papers in front of his face and returned the grin. The only good part of these meetings was watching Driscoll sweat.
Driscoll gave a grunting nod, and with another click the image was isolated. A blurry snapshot of an alleyway, a message written against the wall.
Albert the kid is ghosting.
Everyone glanced it again, before looking to Eliza. She was not amused. Her arms crossed, chin raised, eyes glaring bloody murder. Driscoll’s gaze dropped, and slowly all else’s did the same. Sans the Brigadier, of course. That obscured smile was now gone, her own eyes locked to that image.
“The kid is ghosting…” A frown grew. “Interesting choice of words.”
“How is security for the broadcast centres at the moment?” Eliza asked, words biting. The Brigadier sighed.
“Each now has a standing platoon at the ready, with Sniper units located about and within the facilities. They have orders to shoot on sight, as requested, but will attempt capture if viable.”
“Make sure they prioritise neutralisation” was Eliza’s response to that. The Brigadier’s hand clenched, but she nodded. Then, to Joker. “As for the units. I’ll assume these are the most recently maintained ones we have, correct?”
Joker nodded, his gaze firmly on the Huntress. “Of course ma’am.” He ignored the rest of the room. He knew what they thought about him. And he didn’t care.
“I have the updated design specs here…” he said, passing another report along.
Eliza ignored it. She then looked to the lady in charge of Infrastructure, “And security camera coverage?”
“All screens in the areas have already been updated to the swivelling mounts, as requested six months prior” she replied coolly, “with additional CCTV being put into place to supplement blind spots. This should be finalised within the week.”
“You have two days.”
“...With respect, that-”
“Two days, Meridian.”
The infrastructure Officer blinked, and then nodded. “Two days, then, though testing will need to occur afterwards.”
“Good. I expect the report in four days.”
“...Very well.”
Eliza stood then, eyeing each in turn before her gaze fell heavy on Driscoll. “Have your men check every possible communication route this traitor could be using. See if we can figure out if anyone is feeding intel from the inside. If you do…” A glance to the Brigadier. “Have them delivered for questioning.”
“But of course, Ma’am.”
“If anything else occurs, update me immediately. Until then.” She turned about, walking away. “Dismissed.”
The others sat at that table until she had left, before Meridian stood. “Well. I’ll have to relay the rush order to the engineers, so unless anyone else has need of me I’ll be off right away.” A harsh glare to Driscoll, one the older man met in equal measure before slowly rising himself.
“Yes yes, we’re all quite busy. I’ll run over the footage again, see if we can’t get a better lock on this KILROY’s features.”
“Please, do your job Driscoll” The Brigadier mused, staring still at that image. “We’d all be thankful for it.”
“Mind your tongue.”
“Mmm? I’m sorry, what was that?”
Driscoll huffed, his face turning read with annoyance as her eyes locked to him, that grin returned wide and threatening. He swallowed his pride, and stormed off, much to Meridian’s amusement.
“Well, i’m glad one of us can make him act like that” she chuckled, raising a hand as she too left. “Let me know if I can assist, Brigadier. My regards to your men.”
“Oh, and quite the same for you, Ma’am!” replied cheerily, as the red-haired man rose too, giving a respectful nod. Soon, it was only she and Joker left in that room, and she slumped back some in that seat.
“Quite the mess, isn’t it? She didn’t even stay to consider anything but the basic reports.”
Joker rolled his eyes and put his feet on the table. “I mean, did we expect anything else?” He grabbed his ‘report’ and tossed it to her. “This was just a bunch of junk. I didn’t even bring the real specs in here.”
The Brigadier took the paper in hand, inspecting it. A single brow slowly raised, and once she glanced to the door she allowed her grin to unfurl in full display. “My my. How brazen….And yet, I can’t find myself wishing to raise a concern” spoken in heavily amused tone.
“I mean, if anyone would take the suggestions to upgrade the old design….” he muttered. “What’s it been, twenty plus years since this design hit the streets? Tech improves! We could be doing so much more but…” he threw a hand at the door. “You see how this goes.”
“Quite” she agreed, folding the paper neatly in half and tucking it under her arm. The smile remained, though her gaze returned to that projection. “Interesting choice, isn’t it? Of all the things to broadcast. One can’t help but wonder the message.”
Joker followed her gaze. “They’re being inflammatory. That’s been their entire M.O. I wouldn’t read too much into it.” He shrugged.
“Hm. You’re likely right” she murmured, giving it one last look over before disabling the console. The screens each flickered off in turn as she rose, breathing in. “Well. Mayhap if this escalates further we can get them to stop being stubborn, hmm?” commented as she walked towards the door herself.
Joker shrugged, pulling out a small metal flask and taking a sip from it. “Maybe. I mean, I already have a prototype all ready to go but…” he laughed. “Maybe someday we’ll actually get to make this damn city better.”
“That is the end goal, no?” she commented with a sigh, the room going dark as they left.
