The next morning, Nestra walked into the Beacon’s archives with a team of mooks and Stibbs who had been hired for the occasion. It felt good showing her temporary ID to a baffled worker. “I will need unrestricted access to Internal Affairs’ servers.” “Now,” Nestra insisted. The office drone hesitated, undoubtedly because Nestra didn’t fit the bill for high level management. Too many scars, not enough plastic surgery, and clothes that didn’t cost eight thousand creds. That hesitation lasted only long enough for her credentials to appear in the man’s implants. “Ma’am, the Internal Affair network is fully isolated.” “Yes, which is why I need physical access. You will guide me.” Nestra led her goon convoy through austere alleys, passing several security gates with all the speed of a motivated social climber. The Internal Affair data access point was in a secure box, but Nestra’s codes unlocked everything and Stibbs had no difficulty pulling the data. “Moving on, the second reason would be to muddy the waters for similar operations he would have conducted. I can’t get out of here or access confidential information, but here is what you can do…” “Stibbs, is there a record of the times Ito overrode the monitoring AI?” “Yes, overrode or reprogrammed. Actually, I can pull it rather easily. Hmmm, those are mostly volatile assets sold at less than the official market value. Why?” Nestra clenched her fists. This felt like muddying the water. “Have any of those sales been made to a third party, rather than on the stock market?” “Let me check. Hmmm. Yes, quite a few. To various funds.” “Alright, here is what we’re going to do…” The rest of the day passed quickly. Shinoda’s finances were surprisingly easy to access considering she was rich, however Threshold’s citizens voted and they valued transparency, so most of it was public record. The rest wasn’t large enough to bother. Like Ito, Shinoda was rich and didn’t spend much thanks to the advantages that came with a public office. An agent of the Integrity Bureau that kept an eye on politicians confirmed she didn’t have piles of money stashed away that they suspected. So if they really had stolen so much, where had it gone? “Any info on those third party groups that purchased the volatile assets below market price?” Nestra asked. By then, it was quite late but Nestra intended to work until midnight, for once. This would be a marathon. Just then her visor beeped. “This is District Twenty-Three’s fire department, ma’am. I’m terribly sorry to inform you that there was a fire at your house.” “Oh no they wouldn’t,” Nestra whispered. “Ma’am? Are you alright?” Night had fallen over the city, and Nestra contemplated the melted hole where her kitchen used to be. She could see her living room’s couch through the gap of scorched, foam-covered furniture. Even her damn pots had melted. Of the oven area, there was nothing left. “Miss, I gotta ask you something. Sorry, the timing is a bit iffy, but…” She turned her attention to the firefighter, a tall anglo with an impressive eye aug. “Yeah. Sorry, distracted.” “Understandable. So, do you happen to have enemies?” “Ok so don’t take it as a court-valid expert opinion, right? But you don’t get this sort of damage without an accelerant. Hell, we had the first drone here in less than a minute, and the truck in five so the damage was fairly contained…” It really was. Nothing had been lost except the kitchen. It was just so… weird. “But the way the fire blazed? Look, if it melted your cutlery to puddles like that, it had to be burning off something. I think someone may have started it. I already notified the police.” Shinoda was a real piece of work. Oh, there was no way it wasn’t her, though Nestra doubted they would find any definite proof. It was more a psychological attack than a real murder attempt anyway, something to distract her while also taking revenge for the slight. It would remind her she wasn’t out of danger just because she was still within her grace period. Nestra wondered what pushed someone to take so many risks just to be that much of an asshole. It wasn’t fear, that was for sure. her arrogance oozed from every pore. “Also, sorry to say but the house’s structural integrity is compromised so I’m declaring it a hazardous location. You can’t stay here. It might collapse.” “If you ask if I have a place to stay then yes. If you ask if I’m alright with someone trying to burn down my house, the answer is no. I mean, technically it belongs to my aunt…” “Who should make a police report and insurance claim as soon as possible.” “I’ll tell her. And I don’t know. It’s been my place for so long. I just don't know.” Nestra felt like she should feel furious, or violated, yet it was difficult to do so because the house was a lie. She would need to deal with this later but damn, did the consequences of her actions come to roost at supersonic speeds. She needed a place to stay. Who would she call now? If she tried her mom, Nestra was pretty sure it would lead to some sort of accident — like Shinoda mysteriously falling on a frozen puddle onto a stack of sharpened metal stakes. With a sigh, she called Sereth. That place wasn’t getting burnt down any time soon. The work continued. Nestra mentioned the house incident to her colleagues but otherwise didn’t dwell on it. The local criminal police had taken the case and that was it. Maybe she could let it go because it had never been her den at all, or perhaps it was associated with only one part of her. Nestra decided that after this was done, she would get herself a real cave. The priority was still to corner those two assholes before they put their filthy hands on any more of her belongings. It was Stibbs who found the next piece of interest. “Shinoda is running for mayor.” The group paused. Nestra could scarcely believe her eyes. “Wait. Is she in the opposition?” “She is. They’re running primaries in three weeks, and she is a strong contender.” “This might be related. Politicians need a ton of money to run. That could be it.” There was a knock on the door. Everyone looked up from their work towards Nestra. A quick check of the security camera revealed a familiar face. She opened it. The bearded man stood in the alley alongside a group of spooked detectives of various ages. They all looked extremely uncomfortable. “Hello, Officer Palladian. Or do you have a temporary title as well?” “Well then… I’ll be brief. I heard about your house. I am sorry.” He introduced the other detectives, who were all members of the Contraband and Property Damage Bureau which handled anything from illegal augs to arson. “That’s nice but… what’re you doing here?” “On the public level, I went to them as a member of the rat squad to inform them that their case and yours might be linked. I think we both know you’re being targeted on purpose. Normally, I wouldn’t have the authority to act as a liaison but it so happens that my boss has been suspended for a couple of days and that gave me some leeway…” “And on the personal level?” Nestra asked, a bit suspicious about the change of heart. “On the personal level, I’ve been a coward and can’t stand myself. My wife also gave me an earful so it is with my family’s blessing that I shall sabotage my career in the name of justice.” “He is exaggerating,” a no-nonsense man said nearby. “Should the good detective be fired for doing his job, we will gladly offer him a transfer. Please let us in and let’s work together, Officer Palladian. We of the CPB don’t like being taken for idiots.” “It was really sloppy work!” a short woman with scarred hands added with a slightly concerning smile. “I understand if you want me out,” Baatar added. “But at least work with the CPB. They mean business.” “Are you kidding? Welcome aboard.” The CPB team worked fast. They fully agreed with Nestra’s opinion that Shinoda could have done it by proxy, and a brief search of the monitoring AI’s records pinged the suspicious death of a political militant, found with a broken neck and traces of accelerant on his fingers. It matched the molecule found in Nestra’s house. Then, it was merely a matter of minutes before the AI found the militant and Shinoda in the same general area, proving a meeting had taken place. It happened near a dingy mall complex really out of the way. “Lots of folks think meeting in person is safer than using a phone because calls can be monitored but that’s not the case, especially in Threshold with all the cameras. You’d be surprised at the number of people who realize when someone doesn’t fit,” The CPB captain said. “Some people don’t talk to the police though,” Nestra said. “Not about locals, but corrupt rich women? That is a different story.” “That’s still not enough to nail her.” “Not by itself, but it’s enough to call the Bureau of Integrity.” Nestra blinked. Was she going to collect more goons? Damn, this wasn’t a squad anymore. It was a TASK FORCE. “Can you call me task force leader?” “But I’ll call you boss for…” he checked his visor. “Three days, nineteen hours.” Over thirty people now labored in the overcrowded emergency response unit. Nestra’s main role was to talk to everybody to get updates and give her credentials when they needed access to something or someone special. It felt weird and fun to walk the cubicles with a cup of cappuccino while people kept her up to speed, and three days into the work, the finance section finally identified who owned the company that had bought the volatile assets at a steep discount. A few hours later, the Bureau of Integrity recovered the dead militant’s phone record, and then it was time to decide. “We have enough for a solid case, but I’m not confident we can pull it off,” the CPB representative said. The other team leaders discussed the case for a little while. Most of it went above Nestra’s head since it wasn’t her specialty. It was mostly about case law, what judges had decided before. Unfortunately, Threshold was a recent city with a recent justice system and very few, if any, similar cases. This made the others nervous about their chances. Nestra knew that anyone else would already be looking at an interrogation chair and three life sentences in this situation, but arresting an opposition politician was an extremely risky, high-profile decision with plenty of implications so she couldn’t blame them. “How about offering Ito a deal?” she suggested. The others paused to look at her. They’d been focusing solely on Shinoda earlier, mostly because she was the big fish to catch, but Nestra was here for Ito and, by extension, for Kim. “He might be confident about the financial stuff but if you add the arson, and considering it’s a conspiracy…” “Then under the Threshold mob law, all participants would be considered guilty of all crimes. Yes, that’s a great idea. Let’s flip him.” “Let’s” Nestra added with a smile. It was the sixth day, and Nestra sat on a park bench below the imposing form of the Beacon waiting for the inevitable. The air smelled crisp and clean with a bit of the nearby Pacific Ocean spicing it with iodine. It was a beautiful, sunny day. The only thing missing was a good meal. Shinoda approached her from a long winding path, mostly devoid of runners at this time. The nearby leaves had barely started to turn yellow. Her bodyguards arrayed themselves at some distance while the regally dressed woman sat next to Nestra — without invitation, of course. “Here, I got you something for the trip… if you decide to leave the city, of course,” the elegant woman told Nestra in lieu of greetings. It was a take away bag from one of Threshold’s most exclusive steak restaurants: the Burning House. “Oh, thanks,” Nestra replied without anger. “It looks like five days have elapsed. You have failed to report a financial crime so I suppose this is it. Ito will be reinstated within minutes. It is all downhill from there, ne?” Nestra savored the moment as she placed the bag at her feet. Shinoda was so confident. It was a little bit cute. The time had come, however, so Nestra served her her best condescending expression. “You are correct that I did not fill out a financial crime report on time. That is because there was no need. You see, I know that Ito overrode the monitoring AI to sell confiscated volatile assets at a steep discount to third party shell companies controlled by you. Those companies then liquidated the assets and pocketed the difference, which they sent to your party. You may have used an intermediary to set them up but that intermediary needs to record the name of the person who authorized the transfer if it’s a donation to a Threshold political entity… like your party. An unfortunate oversight on your part.” It was really hilarious to watch Shinoda go from cocksure to concerned, then to horrified. “So Ito filled your electoral war chest in exchange for… your favor, and future benefits.” “You don’t know that!” “I do, because he talked.” Nestra let her smile fully bloom this time. “And we have recordings of you going to the same fundraisers and hotels together, which corroborates his story. That would have been enough for the financial crime. Unfortunately for you, committing fraud related to elections in Threshold falls under the purview of the Integrity Bureau…” The way her face fell meant Shinoda knew exactly how deep in it she was. the Integrity Bureau didn’t fuck around. Their usual fare was gleam-related power grabs. By comparison, dealing with Shinoda would be punching down. “They were obviously very interested in knowing you Enjoy reading on NovelHub - your free online novel platform. You were smart enough to contact him via a burner phone, but you see the issue is that his phone was not secured. Kind of pointless to take all those precautions when the other side does not, don’t you think? If you had waited for two weeks before being a petty bitch, then the call recordings would have been erased from the servers, but of course you had to get your revenge immediately. You used a voice modulator but you gave enough detail for him to identify you, and then we have the both of you at the same spot four days ago: in the Europe Spring mall. That means that the Contraband and Property damage Bureau is also involved… and that means you are the head of a conspiracy. Very ambitious of you.” “You have nothing. You have nothing and you’re bluffing.” “The funny thing is, if you’d simply laid low, I may not have had the time to find everything I needed before the deadline.” “I am leaving and you are going to jail.” Nestra signaled. Groups of men in police uniform including white-clad city gleams moved in from the nearby paths, blocking every access point. Shinoda snarled like a trapped tigress. “You are going nowhere except the Red House, and you’re going there for a very, very long time. Don’t worry, Ito is already waiting for you. I suppose this is farewell, Miss Shinoda. I’ve got to say, I really preferred your ex.” Nestra thought she could use some popcorn to watch her nemesis fall from haughty lady to screaming victim. Her bodyguards hesitated, but not for long. Threshold’s law enforcement was notoriously short on patience, as Nestra knew very well, having been the person with no patience at all. She leaned back comfortably while Shinoda was dragged out. “I’m the next mayor! You can’t do this! Help!” The birds sang, the sun shone, and Nestra had concluded her hunt without even having to change into her true self. What a wonderful time to be alive. She stayed there a good twenty minutes, watching the screaming harridan get shoved into a hover truck, then studying the two despondent bodyguards moving around like lost dobermans wondering what to do with their lives. After five minutes, she opened the food bag. “That bitch. Joke’s on you, I’ve started to eat more healthily.” The morning was bright. Nestra stopped her pink roadster in front of the Red House’s entrance with a smile. She made sure her leather jacket and sunglasses were in position to give her the perfect old-school road bandit look. She resisted the urge to grab her coffee. The doors opened right on time. Kim came out with a blank hoodie, hands clutching the plastic bag containing her meager belongings. She blinked owlishly in the bright light. Her hair was held in a tight ponytail that revealed her angular features. As soon as she spotted Nestra, she hurried towards her. “Welcome back from the slammer,” Nestra drawled in her best thug voice. “I got ya—” Kim slammed into her. The shorter woman pushed her head against Nestra’s shoulders with muffled sobs. Nestra awkwardly patted her back for the minute it took for Kim to find her voice again. Oh yeah, maybe the perspective of spending a lifetime behind bars had scared the poor girl so much she wouldn’t appreciate Nestra’s specific kind of humor. She should have guessed. Kim sniffed so Nestra handed her a clean tissue. “I really thought I was done for,” Kim confessed. “I thought I was going to spend my life in prison for something I didn’t commit, after everything I’ve done for the city. I thought my life was over. I looked back and I saw no real friends, no lovers, just work and the belief I had made a difference and then it had all turned to ash and… and…” “Shh it’s ok, I get it. I would have been terrified as well. Hey, let’s not stay here. I got you coffee and a bagel. I assume you wanna go home?” “Home? No. I’m alone there. I want to get out and drink.” “Soju. And barbecue.” “Aye, now you’re speaking my language. Let’s go!” “And you should have seen her face when the Integrity Bureau nabbed her!” “Like she couldn’t believe I did it!” “Second best after Ito’s resigned mug.” “Uhu. Pass me the sauce please.” “Here. I’m telling you—” “— people keep underestimating my intelligence but see? See? I got them anyway! Hah!” “Way to show them!” Aunt Claire enthusiastically said through her bandages. “Stick it to the man.” “I’m not stupid. People assume I can’t do shit because I’m a muscle head. Well, who’s laughing now?” “I always knew you could do it!” “Well of course I know I can do it, but do the others? No! It’s always Nestra’s too wild, she doesn’t show respect and so on yadda yadda like I can’t do it. I just can’t stand assholes, is all.” “I’m aware, girl,” Stibbs insisted as she grabbed some more coffee. “I was there the whole time.” “But you see what I mean? It’s not because I’m not the most social bird around that I’m dumb.” “Maybe it’s because you’re a battle maniac with no interest in anything else except for food?” “But it takes intelligence to be good at fighting! Well, a certain form of intelligence, anyway.” “Should we order cake again?” “Naturally. Anyway, they will remember the day—” “They thought they could underesssstimate me,” Crescent told Ragnarok. The general was impassive in her chair. “I am delighted that you triumphed. I admit that I thought you might have difficulties and I was ready to step in, but you have proven me, and everyone else, wrong. Congratulations.” “And I am going to assume you have been absolutely insufferable over it?” “Your inflated ego has not compelled you to proclaim your victory to absolutely everyone?” “Not even my secretary while you were waiting for me?” “Then if everything has returned to normal, I assume you are now free to compensate me for the favor I have provided.” “I’ll take that as a clear yes.”