Broker

Chapter 211

Ollie packed his bag, slipping the notebooks and his new tablet inside. He rubbed the bridge of his nose before turning back to look at his office. My office. The thought gave him no small amount of pride. It was one of the smallest offices in the building and at the end of the hallway away from the elevator, but Scowl, the head of the New York Guild’s investigative team had taken an immediate liking to him during their first meeting. Only a few weeks in and the space was already something out of a conspiracy film.

He walked over to the most prominent board on the wall, his arms crossed. A few fragmentary images of Ishtar were pinned around a screenshot of her speech about the death of August. Stretching from them were fibers connecting her to other faces. A partial facial picture of Park Beyol who he suspected to be Blackrazor even though the man was officially dead. A blank page with the word ‘Charon?’ on it. There was a picture of the lightning woman from the Hague attack, an image of what appeared to be some manner of sea monster, newspaper clippings, more images. All connecting back to that central point.

“Who are you?” he murmured, rubbing his chin.

A knock on the door drew his attention and he found the bland face of John staring at him when he opened it. “Hello John,” he said, “Can I help you?”

“Go home,” John grunted.

Ollie blinked, “Huh?”

“You haven’t slept in two days,” John said, “Scowl’s worried. Leave.”

Ollie looked down at his feet and scrunched up his face, confusion warring in his brain, “Has it really been two days?”

“Yeah, looks like you’re packing up. Get going. I’m not leaving until you do,” John said. Ollie looked up at him and saw the stiff young man he’d come to know at the camp leaning against the wall across from his door, arms crossed. It was hard to believe that the nearly expressionless guy barely a year different in age from him was a Guild Officer acting directly at Guildmaster Bluestar’s instruction. Management.

Ollie looked back at his boards. The Ishtar board, the various explorations of local villains. He squinted at one of them and wondered if maybe a particular link was just his sleepless brain playing tricks on him. Should I double check? He thought wearily only for John to clear his throat behind him. He winced and nodded slowly, Right, right, sleep. He sighed and grabbed his bag from the table, closing up shop and heading out into the hallway with John who eyed him seriously. “What?” he asked.

“Is your team leader pushing you to work this hard?” John asked.

Ollie blinked, “What?” he shook his head vigorously, “No! Not at all. Honestly Otis complains about how much time I spend in the office rather than working with him on the field. He says I need to get more public exposure,” Ollie sighed, “Not my strongest area.”

John made an odd face that looked somewhere between disappointed and annoyed, “Ah, he’s not wrong. Hero work is a social job, even for investigators. You need to talk to people.”

“Does Otis bother you?” Ollie asked.

John shrugged, “Yes and no, good work, too much ego.”

“People like him,” Ollie pointed out, “He says nice things.”

John narrowed his eyes, “Does he mean them?”

Ollie scratched the back of his neck and gave a noncommittal shrug. He wasn’t going to badmouth his team leader for John no matter how close they were. John seemed to read enough of the situation to relent with a wave of his hand and gestured for Ollie to walk in front of him. Ollie frowned, he felt a little like a child being punished for being somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. The last time someone had walked like this behind him, it had been in prison, to his cell. He rubbed his arm uncomfortably but kept his mouth shut. Just put up with it.

They made it to the elevator and John pulled something from a pocket in his coat, he handed it over to Ollie who adjusted his glasses and squinted at it, “A thumb drive?”

“It’s for Otis. Bluestar assigned your team to a dungeon,” he said, “Good luck with that.”

Ollie blanched, “A dungeon?!”

“Fighting monsters is your job, Ollie,” John said with a frown and put the thumb drive in his hand, “So is taking care of yourself. Go rest,” he said as the elevator opened with a merry chime. 

Ollie looked down at the small object in his hand and let out a sigh before nodding, “Yessir,” he stepped into the elevator and turned around to meet the stony faced hero’s gaze. Instead of that, he saw a mixture of sadness and concern in John’s eyes. Back at the camp it had been hard for John to express himself, barely speaking in just a few words. It took time, but he opened up. Now he was even expressing himself in ways that weren’t just words. Meanwhile I feel like I’m still where I started. All of Rouge’s advice hasn’t helped me at all. My powers are stronger but I’m still… He swallowed and nodded to John, “Good night, John.”

John’s sad expression turned to a small smile, “Good night, Ollie.”

Just a few minutes later he stepped out into the residential part of the Guild Headquarters. Reserved for new heroes who hadn’t bought themselves a place to live with the significant funds given to them by ASTA. First big paycheck is coming up, he reminded himself, Otis wants a place where the three of us can live with enough room to expand the team. I still need to give him the listings I came up with. He rubbed his neck as he nearly stepped past the small ‘apartment’ that had been designated for their team. He fumbled with the keycard and the door opened.

“Oh, he’s actually alive, I just lost ten bucks,” a girls voice rang out as he stepped inside. He tossed his suitcase onto the couch, ignoring her jab. The last thing he wanted today was to get into it with Felwinter. She seemed to thrive on pissing him off, then again, he supposed he was the only available target with Otis forbidding her to be her usual caustic self around normal people and other heroes.

“Hello, Jessica,” he grumbled, dragging himself over to the couch and sitting down hard.

He looked up to see her step out of what amounted to the kitchenette with a cup of coffee in her hand and a smirk on her face, “You look like shit,” she said.

“I haven’t slept in two days apparently,” he said.

“Apparently? Definitely. You’re no use to Otis in this condition,” she said with a frown, “You’re lucky he doesn’t toss you out on your ass for wasting your talents.”

He gave her a deadpan stare and adjusted his glasses again, “Are you done? Why don’t you go buy yourself some kneepads since you-.”

Her lip twitched, “I dare you to finish that sentence,” she snarled, taking a few steps forward.

Oh I am so tired of her, he thought and got to his feet. Maybe it was the sleeplessness. Maybe it was all the things he had to do to keep Otis happy. He wasn’t sure, but right now, he was feeling a little hot under the collar. She walked up and got up in his face, nose to nose. “I’m sorry,” he said cooly, “I forgot to add the hair ties.”

“I will turn your bones to ice, Riot,” she growled.

“And I’ll-”

“What? What are you going to do, yarnball?” she growled, “String me up?” she laughed as the door to the small office space behind her opened, Otis stepping out with that usual smirk on his face.

“I wouldn’t test him, Felwinter,” he said casually, “He could twist your heart into all sorts of shapes, make you pine for your brother in ways that would put you in therapy for the rest of your life. Couldn’t you, Riot?”

Ollie felt his gut twist at the thought even as his mind betrayed him with the theoretical logistics of accomplishing it. He was horrified to realize just how easy it would be, her strong emotions towards her brother could be flipped on their head just like that. He wrinkled his nose in disgust even as he held her gaze. He didn’t say a word, but he saw her pale just a little bit and step back, crossing her arms over her chest, “Fine.”

He let out a sigh, “Thank you, sir,” he said only to get swept up as Otis threw an arm over his shoulder and led him over to the couch.

“You look terrible man! This is what I mean about overworking yourself. You should be getting some air with us!” Otis laughed, pushing him down onto the couch before giving him a serious look, “You have anything to show for all that time in the office?”

Ollie swallowed as those glowing blue eyes stared down at him. However ‘friendly’ Otis was, he had to keep reminding himself that this man was evil on a level that was difficult to fully grasp. The atrocities he’d already seen. They weighed on his mind as much as his own crimes to keep himself close to the man. What’s worse, it's getting harder every day to justify it all. Plenty of people in New York love him and with everything I’ve done to help him, what right do I have to call him out? He lowered his eyes to the ground, At least if I’m around I can nudge him away from the really bad stuff, maybe?

“Riot? I asked you a question, man,” Otis asked, his tone heavy with warning.

Ollie blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes, “Sorry, two days without sleep, hard to think,” he said and turned to his bag. He tugged out two folders and handed them over to Otis, “On those villains you were interested in. Everything I could dig up.”

Otis turned the envelopes over in his hands, “Good stuff,” he said, opening them and skimming them for a moment, “They’ll make good filler, at least,” he said, “Think you can arrange for them to make a scene somewhere public when its time?”

“Like the others?” Ollie asked wearily.

Otis nodded, “Like the others.”

Ollie sighed, feeling his shoulders get even heavier, “Yes, it shouldn’t be a problem sir. It’s pretty easy for me to move around without getting spotted.”

Otis clapped his hands, “Good shit! Good shit! Love it, man! You should be more proud of yourself, you’re riding the Otis train!”

Ollie forced himself to smile, “Speaking of which,” he said and pulled the thumb drive out. He wished he could keep it to himself but the idea of denying Otis anything seemed more and more like suicide. He held it out and Otis snatched it up, peering at it, “It’s details on the dungeon we got assigned to by the Guildmaster.”

“Nice! I was just telling Felwinter about our next outing,” Otis said and turned to her, “Excited?”

“It’s been a while since I got to kill something worthwhile,” Felwinter said, “Playing house with civilians is tiring.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Otis agreed, “More importantly, it’s our final test to get to participate in the big show coming up. The Guildmaster has made it clear she wants us to make a good showing in the dungeon if we want to go play in the big leagues.”

“Big Leagues?” Ollie asked, “Did I miss something?”

“See, this is why you need to get out of that office of yours. The whole world is screaming for a war with Liberty and you’ve got your nose in old medical records, current events are important too smart guy,” Otis said with a laugh, “War’s coming Ollie and I am going to make sure I make headlines on the frontlines.”

A chill went up Ollie's spine, “A war, against people?”

Otis tilted his head, “Who else?”

Ollie searched the man’s face, How can he not feel anything about what that means? Killing people? I know he’s done it before but a war? The death toll. I can’t even imagine, with heroes participating? Is that even legal? He felt breathless as he slumped in the couch, “Right, of course, sorry.”

Felwinter snorted somewhere behind Otis, “Pussy.”

The air went stale and Ollie felt something cold drop into his guts. He whipped his head up towards Otis who’s smile had turned just a little tense. His eyes glittering as his head turned slightly to the side. “Didn’t I just pull you out of a fight?” Otis said, the smile in his words was so chilling that Ollie felt nausea rise up in his throat. He wanted to run, hide, do anything to get away from the bloodlust caking his skin. “Do we need to have another session Felwinter? I don’t mind a little banter, but let me make myself clear,” he growled and rounded fully on her.

She let out a squeak and stumbled back, landing on the ground and looking up at him. Otis stalked forward and stood over her, “You work together. Bottom line. If I have to shut you up again I will let Riot do whatever he wants to your karmic threads. Who knows? Maybe becoming stupid for a few days will set you straight.”

Ollie struggled to pull himself out of the paralysis that Otis’ rage had struck him with, “S-sir! Th-that’s not necessary- I don’t want to-” he gasped and Otis rounded on him.

“I’ll make you do it,” Otis growled, “While she pissed me off, she isn’t wrong. How many people have you helped me kill, Riot?” he demanded and turned his full attention on Ollie, “How many civilians were caught up in the villain attacks that you orchestrated to get me publicity? Stop playing innocent. You’re not. Get over yourself.”

Riot’s heart had inched its way into his throat as his body went almost entirely numb under that stare. Otis held his gaze for a few tortuous seconds longer before he brightened and stood up straight, smiling ear to ear, “Now that’s out of the way! Let’s start planning our expedition! I’m looking forward to seeing what those scouts have on that dungeon!” he said eagerly before turning on his heel and marching towards the door to the office.

He stopped at the door and turned to look at the pair of shell shocked Heralds who stared back at him in horror, “Well? Hurry up. You can sleep later, you’re on my clock now. There's a peace summit in a few days that’s bound to fail and I want to make sure our trip is done before then.”

Ollie looked towards Jessica who turned to meet his gaze. She looked down at her feet for a moment before rising and giving him an awkward nod. He did the same, his gut twisting. He’s wrong. I’m doing this to stop him. Sacrifices are okay, right? He walked up to the door and put his hand on it, his tired eyes hurt, his fingers ached. How much further can I take this? He wondered as he pushed his way in, following the enemy of the world into his lair.