Part 3
Persian snuggled against Grace's chilly feet. Insulted at the request that slippers be fetched. What was her trainer, some stinky, sooty, Arcanine? Nothing needed fetching, Persian was right there. She could be warm and purr to help circulation along.
Pinned in place by protective Persian Grace made Giovanni her gofer. He obliged, ignoring Persian's jeering "Arcanine! Arcanine! Why don't you chase your tail!".
After tattling to Grace about the cat's jabs, they petered off in an irritated "merp!". Grace smirked, looking up from flicking the cat's ear, smug incarnate while Persian glared up at the woman with ears tipped sideways.
"If you don't keep your claws to yourself, Little Miss Furball, you'll get a bath."
Flicking one ear, the untwanged one, Persian rolled her eyes up to her trainer. Giovanni pointedly Ignored the hissed suggestion that Giovanni trade Grace out for another female. Drinks and papers in hand, he passed up the pages she asked for. For a while Grace flipped through them, when she was done she tipped the arcane-looking text towards him and walked Giovanni through the meaning.
She had to explain the chemical names, the cause for the imbalances, or rather suspected causes.
"I'll need further tests to be safe but... If we're lucky all I'll just need to take a pill twice a day. The symptoms are quiet and most standard tests don't cover thyroid levels since.. The only reason they caught it was..."
Grace sighed, the noise was part frustration, part pain, part shame.
They'd be trying for a child for over a year, and been over their views enough that Giovanni knew the futility of arguing against her pain. He felt her body would produce a child when it was ready. For Grace, pregnancy was more entangled with morals and Arceus, and as a result, she had been harboring something like religious guilt over her infertility.
The blood test results explained so much. Her chills and sensitivity to winter. Her struggles with maintaining her weight.
"Not to be a pessimist... But what's worse case cause?" Giovanni asked, taking the papers back and passing Grace her cup.
"Thyroid cancer, but they check for all cancers in my tri-annual bloodwork that I have to keep up with for job safety."
Suppressing a chill Giovanni set the pages aside and settled beside her. If he was more tactile than normal Grace didn't seem to mind.
Nestling her head against his chest she held him as tight as he held her.
"This will be the easy route. I'm going to do two tests, I'll come back clean and just have to pick up a script twice a month. That's all this is going to be."
"That's all it's going to be." Giovanni echoed. "And if it isn't we'll deal with what comes, together."
Xxx
What came, was immediate, bloody, and nothing as sane as a medical emergency.
They lost the world in bits and pieces, courtesy of a power-hungry madman.
It started the evening after Gio's late night. He'd detailed that hellish evening with an air of resignation and aggravation Over dinner, once everyone had left, he'd told of his abduction in tones suited to a bad day at work.
The short version. Viridian had a new Don. The man was not content to take Gio's money and leave him alone. He'd manipulated the League network to make it seem as if there was a case of a rampaging rabid 'mon sighted in the warehouse district. There'd been cops who'd led him to the "site of the disturbance" except there'd been no 'mon.
Just a quick scuffle and dosing of sleep powder. He'd woken up hooded and bound to a chair by a shackle, his team locked and sealed... And from what he could hear under the muffling of the hood someone wanted to "talk".
The Don, the voice announced, because the hood wasn't taken off and the voice was staticy, like a synthesizer had been used, wanted the Sakaki's good little mareep son pressed into his services. His reasoning, professional pride, and the sick knowledge that Gio who'd fought tooth and nail for his pristine reputation would be above suspicion.
He'd been hauled into a side office, with windows coated in thick electric tape, cork walls, and dumped with more paperwork than he'd seen since the last Viridian Co tax reports and audits. Been told if he didn't do it right Rocket could pick up Grace at any time.
Then, considering the scare Grace had endured at her work. Set the wheels in motion to gather her up anyway. Breaking
familgia honor in one stroke.
"It's then I got scared. Really scared." Gio breathed the confession. Looking sick. "A mobster who doesn't hold to the customs is infinitely more dangerous than one who does."
Honestly, Grace was surprised that Gio'd willingly gone with her "fresh air" jaunt earlier. That he'd waited until
after they'd gone over Grace's paperwork, until dinner, to tell her what happened.
A mild imbalance seemed so... Trivial... in comparison to them both now being neck-deep in Mob affairs.
"It wasn't trivial. And honestly, if it was something that needed immediate or regular treatment. If it couldn't wait... I'd have told you immediately and we would have gotten the hell out of Kanto even if we had to hike on foot to Pewter's airport. This Don may have the local transport under his thumb-,"
His was an odd kingdom, Grace learned, he ruled every cab, every bus. Had access to 'mon locking technology and... From what Gio could gather from the papers did most his business in Vermillion. Viridian being a summer's home spot or something. Grace had wished she didn't believe but the proof was in both their call logs, and Andre, Patricia, and Hopper's too. The proof was in the intimidation efforts and potential kidnapping setup Grace had figured out.
"-But not much else. If he had the utilities for example he'd have sent a repairman to either us poison by playing with the gas lines or just cut us off to flush us out. He doesn't appear to have a solid grip on Intimidations or Protection since, no goons..."
Gio's checkered family history was a blessing in that he knew the ins and outs. But that didn't mean Grace wasn't scared out of her ever-loving mind.
"Gio I know you have really good reasons to hate the cops... But it feels like a cop thing. This feels like an I
nterpol thing."
"I've already tried to call emergency services." And to prove it he did so again. His phone looped to a local cab company, to the announcement of having to wait twelve hours. Gio hung up. "They couldn't have hacked all the phones. I don't think he has the tech considering he had me doing literal
paperwork for him. It's probably a re-roiuter and the strength on those is minimal. Well," he corrected. "The ones I've seen in corporate circles. God knows what is available criminally."
"We could walk to Viridian, and go to the station."
Their house was on the edge of the forest. It wasn't that far away from Viridian City proper.
"Those officers were decked out enough that I'm almost certain they are real. All it would take was one interview in separate rooms and his agents could get to you...."
"And what about you, Gio? You aren't immortal. You aren't even protected now since money and blood don't mean anything to this bastard. So don't go all "it's for my protection" crap... You need to be safe too."
And even now after years such a basic thing like her caring broke him. His expression twisted and he swallowed, clearly choking back tears. Once composed, he let out a watery breath and shook his head.
"We
aren't powerless, he's trying to make us feel that way but we're not. I think, between the forest around us and its... inclination towards me he won't be able to approach our home from that angle. Right now, here, we're physically safe."
"But we can't go out, and can't reach out."
"Not until we figure out where that tracker is. Once it gets late I'll set Persian to it."
Xxx
No calls out could be made, but calls in were possible as Patricia proved third day in.
Suffice it to say Grace had been able to report to her work
once, using Patricia as a proxy to report that she'd "caught a cold". The older woman had been reasonably spooked at the idea that others might be listening in and she hadn't called back since.
From the radio silence from her other friends Grace knew that Patricia had spread the word.
It was the theory she said out loud. Wordlessly she fretted and Giovanni juggled working remotely, a feat done with sending paperwork out tied to Beedril or Persian, and keeping her steady.
"It's safer for them to be distant," Giovanni advised. They were picking through canned goods and making a meal plan for the next few days for something to do. Unfortunately, they were close to needing to do a shop before this so the options were a patchy collection of winter stores that hadn't been restocked yet, and odd and ends.
"Why do we have
spicy, picked, artichoke hearts..." He grumbled at one jar.
He'd been dealing with their isolation with the same level of lukewarm aggravation he'd level at a trainer at his gym stacked to the top with water types. When she asked how could he, he shrugged, assuring her he'd waited out more rabid paparazzi. He was a shameless introvert. And had several rooms that were wall-to-wall books to while away the time and took their isolation as a means to catch up.
Grace who thrived off of the complex relationships between herself and her patients, the doctors, and staff at several hospitals was not well equipped to deal with the constant silence. The portable radio sounded like a taunting metronome and drove poor Gio crazy. But being separated made both become paranoid and seek the other out, even if the proximity of the (per Gio) God damned radio was starting to drive him to fantasize about murder.
Despite being richer than sin the Sakaki's had one television that was off more than on. That changed for several days until Viridian news, Kanto news, dominated the airwaves and it felt like everything was awash in Mob-related insanity. Viridian's underworld seemed to pick this month to fall apart at the seams and everyone had an opinion.
There were murders, and shootings in the streets, as Don turned against Don... well
Capo against Capo, Giovanni corrected with a tired smile.
"If I were to suspect I think this Don overreached. Bloodshed this bad means he overstepped in some way, the fact that I recognize five different families..." Noting her distaste he let the commentary drop off with a quiet hum.
The day after that the Mayor of Viridian declared a curfew, it was the hot topic of the morning shows from as far as Blackthorn.
The television, their sole window to the world, was given a rest after that. Though horrid at anything that wasn't running adjacent Grace was dragged outside to practice training and exercises with Gio's 'mon. He supervised her efforts while he scraped Rhydon's claws and horn to deadly points with diamond-encrusted tools.
A week later they needed to get out, well Grace
needed to, Giovanni had legitimate work efforts he didn't dare put off. The violence was increasing and he decided that he needed to shut his gym down and contact Lance to make the league redirect the children taking their challenges away from Viridian.
"The next fool thing these lunatics will do is to assault traveling kids. The second a trainer dies that'll give Lance and his megalomaniac Elite free reign to raze the city to the ground." He'd growled as he shuffled around their living room...
The standards of their living had decreased a bit and there were messes here and there. Mainly piles of books and a few cups, but still the odd bit of clothing had drifted in and lingered. He claimed he fuzzily remembered tossing his fedora towards a corner after having come in from a morning patrol around their property. That was two days ago. And only this lost fedora would match his suit, and heaven forfends he stepped outside of the door bare-headed or with the slightly off-hue hat.
He would just
die.
"Perhaps less witty repartee and more helping with the
looking would be nice." He gritted out at her.
"I didn't throw it." Grace countered, Persian having crawled onto her lap to watch the show warm and surrounded by nice smells was also content not to help.
"Are you sure it was in this room you threw it at the direction of the door?" Grace sighed, it was round three of him rooting around some books and she knew him. He was going to give up and flop into the nearest chair, a choicer bit of literature in hand if she didn't keep nagging.
She'd been dressed and ready to go for twenty minutes now, he'd been rooting for thirty minutes going on thirty-five. "I mean, this never gets odd saying, but we
do live in a mansion. There are so many other rooms you could have tossed it and aimed it toward the door and it not get there."
He was standing stiff, drawing deep breaths, clearly trying not to scream. And really, Grace didn't blame him. She'd been personally alternating between bitchy and weepy, she got it. It didn't make the rush of irritation at him and the world, any less hot and bitter though.
Grabbing at the scraps of maturity, Grace ran her hand over the cat's broad head. Firm gentle strokes around the gem. The caress made red eyes peep open, but only a crack. "Persian, sweetheart. May I avail your aide with the promise of a nice fire-roasted slab of seaking, or whatever the deli has in stock fish wise, to save Gio from himself?"
A milk-white tail flicked, tapping a one-two tune against the couch.
"Pert?"
"No idea what you said," Persian tipped her head into the pets with a rumbling purr. "Gio?"
"We do not have fresh organic milk, it expired you-"
"We'll add it to our shopping list... Gio we are going to run out of fresh food and your 'mon need special feeds. We are going to have to shop and with it being mid-day if we go out now we can safely get back before the cops start herding people in... God," Grace hissed, revelation hitting hard. "I live in a police state dystopia where the bad guys won, all we need are the robocops."
Silence, where Giovanni clearly reigned in his temper. "We can live without..."
"Not without breaking several poaching laws starting in three days. Do you want your team commandeered by sbarrio?"
His sulky expression said that that was a low blow. But he was listening, not shutting her down. It was an improvement.
"Three hours, just three hours out of the house. To get to the gym, hit the market, do a blood draw, and walk home, that's all I'm asking."
Her last trip out had been to her work to get that first blood draw and report in for indefinite leave, flanked by Nidoqueen and 'King, this last stick was a double check... and it was another low blow... She knew he was quietly stewing over her blood test results which was why he was eager to spring for an out-of-network facility to run her numbers. Guiltily the results were something of an escape rope for Grace. Because once they got phoned in Grace would have to go out to get what medications were prescribed.
He scraped his hands over his face with an utterly defeated sound. Really, if he did that when he lost to a gym challenger he'd probably be less feared. Still, it was rather nice that that fun fact was all hers. That he trusted her to hear him be vulnerable and pissy, and all the other emotions that he
genuinely felt rather than his chill public persona.
"Fine." He groaned, worn down at long last. "
Fine."
Persian rolling off the couch plopped onto the hardwood floors with a thump, and tail up, wandered deeper into the house. Bemused by something only he could hear Giovanni gathered the tattered bits of his composure and followed her out of the room... There was one pair of steps going up the flight of stairs, a click, then a muffled yell. Outrage rather than pain, Grace decided. Then he flipped from Italian to Kantoian and she was able to understand what he was saying, rather than rely on his tones.
"Persian, what the
hell... Why are
half my hats in your cat bed!"
Xxx
There'd been a man watching the gym, and the second they saw Grace watching him in turn he slipped off into the crowd. Grace waited outside, while Gio waded through a small crowd of adolescents barking at them to buzz off. When a few tried to challenge him, when the group clustered, scared and worn and wanting something familiar, he shut them down with a sharp word and gesture.
"I'm not the mayor, I'm not a politician, and I don't owe anyone goodwill or sponsorship, so I will tell you the truth your parents, brothers, sisters, policemen, and politicians,
won't."
"Kanto is going to hell. We're lucky here in Viridian because we're catching fire first."
"You aren't heroes. This is Mob business, and it's no place for kids... Go home. If that isn't safe Celadon and Vermillion are hosting emergency twenty-four-hour surf training for any and all trainers with water 'mon. My advice for anyone around the age of conscription is to catch a water
anything and go to those locations, get trained, and get the hell out. For those journeying to supplement your family's income, you can continue your journeys at Johto or Tajho, the money transfer system's a bitch but there are laws about fleecing minors. You'll be somewhat protected. For those thinking about Tojho, you'll need waterfall training, and only Surge is trained to give that out. Whatever you do, Viridian Gym is closed, now get out of here before the
sbarrios arrest you all for loitering or arrest me for encouraging unlawful gathering."
The front doors slammed, and Gio was inside for about twenty minutes or so before stepping out, a rather irritated expression on his face. Most of the kids had drifted off in ones and twos, a few had asked her for directions to the local Pokecenter on their way out.
On the tree, perched where the man had been was a hoothoot, it stared at her with unblinking red eyes.
The door slammed shut, as Giovanni stormed out of the Gym. Pointedly ignoring the straggling trainers. "Lance gets stupider and stupider...
Think of the future of the 'mon, their potential stunting... as if the
kids attached to the 'mon were an inconvenience rather than the next generation..."
Grace hummed and twined her arms around his waist stilling some of the venom. A nudge got him to look up and in the right direction.
"F-" noting a few wide-eyed kids he coughed. "
Freaking wonderful. Beedril, persuade the
Capo's pet to consider a new career choice."
Beedril's wings swirled in excitement, the bug was up and chasing, in a heartbeat. Bug chased bird around the gym once, twice, then a string of white spat by the bug caught the bird's back. A jerk on the line and the bird was slammed into a tree. Beedril descended, spitting more white, blades and hind legs turning line into binds. Once trussed the bird then hauled it into some shrubs, screaming hollow hoots in terror, before a wet hacking sound affirmed Beedril had spat some string shot into the bird's mouth.
Grace grabbed and pulled one curious child away, making sure he looked the other way. The others, wiser and older, were already covering their eyes. There was a misting of feathers and blood and black, then nothing but silence.
Then the munching started.
"Beedril will catch up." Giovanni decided with a wince. "Eventually. Alright, shows over, we're going towards Fifth Street, and the Center's at Sixth, you can come along or not but I am challenging no one, and answering no questions, am I clear?"
Crystal.
And it was more than the kids that got the message. There were no more men in corners, or left behind mon after that. It was clear running until after the store, where they were encumbered that Rocket tried again.
Grace was honestly distracted, still wrangling over the embarrassment of having both Queen and King march in with her during the blood draw since the clinic was a "one person allowed in" sort of facility.
"So you're denying service 'mon?" Giovanni drawled, dark eyes half-lidded, tones that dangerous silken note that preceded lawsuits.
Grace understood why he'd insisted she have protection. Got an up close and personal reason in the lobby no less. There was someone wearing Mob colors in the waiting area, and she nearly turned on her heel for it... But damned if she didn't get it done today. So she did, and nothing went wrong beyond scolding Nido not to hiss at the help when they took her blood. When she slipped out the possible Mobster was waiting still, looking at Gio's 'mon with a calculating look, then Grace was out.
Still blushing, and wincing a bit because it'd taken the tech three sticks, but fine, Grace tried to wrestle down the lingering embarrassment. She wasn't very successful. And was stuck revisiting an old familiar revelation.
She
hated it when Gio used his clout to do things like that.
Trying to shelve the feeling Grace tried to focus on the good. A nice thing, she mused, about having bulky 'mon, was they made great carriers and gofers. The dreaded top shelf at the shop was easily surmounted, for example. They could bring home twice as many goods as the car.
Half the team was designated carries, the others were free to roam and block off any who got too close. So far the 'mon had stopped two pickpockets, and Rhyhorn was a wonder. The short mon had mastered the feat of being an ambulatory grocery cart was a marvel of balance and a roiling type of locomotion that kept their food rolling gently back and forth without falling off of him...
Persian, insisting on carrying her fish, had a bag hooked to her collar, flopping like a foul-smelling superhero cape over her shoulders, and Giovanni and Grace were enduring backpacks with goods in them so Rhydon, Nidoqueen, and Beedril could move about without worries.
In saner times this much protection would have been excessive.
In the present day, it wasn't enough.
In the 'mon's defense, they had two targets to watch over after the usual one. Also, they were used to the formal arena. Not a mob of people, some in gang colors, others not, decided the intersection of Third and Flint was a good place to start World War Four.
Afterward, between memory, and Gio's terse police statements Grace was able to get a grasp of the gist. Third and Flint wasn't prosperous by any means, with a slew of tight apartments and cramped communal living, a working man's district that was the outer ring between city and Forest. There had been a fight in one of the houses. Some meeting of the Mob went sour, shots were fired. The residents of a nearby house had had their windows blown out, and that'd been the straw that broke the camelrupt's back. The private scuffle turned into a riot as weary civilians with 'mon turned on anyone who looked Italian adjacent. They were separated in the madness that followed. Grace ran, dodging raging 'mon and men when gloved hands grabbed at her backpack. She shrugged off, her goods. Stopped the attempt to bring her down by sacrificing a weeks worth of food, and turned. There was a leering man with a black shirt with a hellishly familiar red R on it. Her taser was in her hand in a heartbeat. Those red R's making beautiful targets, and one went down... But the Rocket's partners were on her. Hauling her up, dragging her towards an alley. She'd of been dead if not for a good samaritan, some young man with a zigzagoon and a dashing smile and perchance for tackling alongside his 'mon. He'd been running his own errands he explained, and figured why not, he was screwed out of his food, might as well play hero... Seeing her safe he'd considered going back into the fray... but the sound of wet tearing stopped him.
He decided to stay with her crouched behind the dumpster after that.
She waited and waited, just glad this place was little more than a place to dump trash and thus overlooked. No one else had gotten the bright idea to hide here, they were scrambling to find sanctuary inside homes, and cars. Though the last might of been more opportunistic grabbing of the moment. Gio's voice howling her name made her head snap up.
"Here!"
In moments he was there, and while not safe, the world was a bit saner for him by her side.
XXX
The consequences of their outing were ugly and immediate.
The Don, Grace decided, was a flaming madman. Getting away from a screamingly obvious abduction was
defiance. Refusing to fold to the will of the Don to die as he willed it
needed correcting. When Grace Sakaki had tased one Rocket and punched another in her own self-defense in the riot, she'd committed a cardinal sin as had all the people on that little intersection who'd decided to fight back.
Everyone not in police custody that wasn't Grace or Giovanni had been rounded up. It took the mob three days. On the first day when the first few victims had gone missing, the cops had come to the Sakaki home. It had led to a hissed conversation in the coat closet while the uniformed man and woman lingered on their porch trying not to look awkward while Grace and Giovanni fought.
"You can't just say "
you need a warrant" the second you open the door!"
"I can and I will."
"At least ask them what they're here for first before driving them off?"
"They are rubbernecking trying to scrounge up any reasonable cause. And for the sake of keeping our house safe, I damn well will demand a-"
"Ah. Sir, Madam? We're here involving the incident at..."
Eyes sliding shut, spine a line of tension, Grace could feel it click he went so rigid.
"I gave my statement to the chief-"
"Sir. It's not about that."
How the officer sounded diffident while shouting to be heard was rather impressive. His partner chimed in.
"Mr. Sakaki there's been nine abductions starting at six this morning... If you can open the door... Let us in. We can disclose more details."
Gio blanched. Whipping hard between fury to horrified realization. Both Sakaki's scrambled out of the closet, a quick flick conveyed fear and paranoia and to that Grace folded. She slid her arm around Giovanni's and guided them both outside.
"I'm sorry but the rest of the house is a state. We were remodeling right before this happened and I'd be embarrassed to expose you to it. The entranceway and living room are barely habitable but we don't want to risk hiring anyone to finish the work until the world is a little saner. I can get a drink if anyone needs anything and my bench is your bench?"
The offer was accepted even if the lie was met with some skepticism.
The talk boiled down to that everyone who'd been on site wasn't in trouble (yet), they were just running wellness checks (checking for bodies) because there'd been some suspicious absences. One smart soul had hidden their phone and set it to record before getting hauled off.
The recording wasn't available for non-investigators, sorry.
Grace had to subtly step on Gio's foot to forestall an attempt to bribe for that information because Arceus frolicking in a field of flowers it wasn't going to have anything relevant to
them on it. So it wasn't their business. Despite how nosy Gio was and how news-starved Grace was.
Also, bribes were illegal. That too.
They refused police protection because between Forest and Gio's 'mon they were reasonably safe. Accepted to be called for continual wellness checks. Grace gave them her number rather than her husband's because the police calling Gio was not a good thing for either of them and saw the officers out.
Come day three of the first person going missing the case was closed.
The mob returned them all, stacked the bodies like logs on the police front steps. No one was spared. Not man, woman, mon, or child. Watching the news, sobbing into Gio's shoulder while he soothed and rocked her, Grace realized that she'd never caught the young man's name. The man with the zigzagoon who'd tackled monsters on a whim.
Now he was just another John Doe among a block of them.
"It isn't your fault." Giovanni sighed, they curled into each other, and it was a mercy that he was able to work the remote out of her numb hands and turn off the news program with a flick. "When things like this happen, you let the monsters be monsters. And you hope the people around them are smart and fast enough to get out of the way when they strike... And you grieve when they aren't."
"It shouldn't be like this."
"No," The black of his eyes looked positively fey in the dim light as he considered something. "It shouldn't.
Xxx
When the phone rang, her phone, Giovanni picked it up. Grace just shook her head and looked away. Unable to deal with talking to anyone for any reason.
Sounding tired and weary Gio took the call. He verified who he was, then listened for what felt like ages. Ending the call after a few terse words and tossing it on the coffee table with a grunt.
She did not have to ask, just looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and waited.
"The
Sbarrio are going to make an announcement, Viridian is going to declare a state of emergency. Kanto's demanding all travel to and from the city excluding medical personnel and emergency staff be banned, and Viridian has a week to clean house before the Lance steps in. Starting now I'm on twenty-four-hour standby, they're going to rip Viridian down to the bedrock, and when they find something I'll have to leave to help suppress it."
By mutual unspoken decision, they didn't watch the news. And after seeing lines of smoke from town from the eastern window Giovanni shut the shades and they moved their business to the west forest-facing side.
Viridian didn't need a week. It hadn't needed forty-eight hours. The powers had known who the Mob Boss was, down to a man. Some bastard skuntank namde Aldo Machetti. That revelation made Grace sick. Made her shake from outrage. If they'd pulled their heads out of their asses, just done their jobs... There'd be less dead, less broken families, less..
everything wrong.
The squad of cops came knocking at their door come midnight the next night. With them was some young blonde heartthrob with a mohawk, muscles that'd make many a woman swoon, and civilian clothes set in military colors. He stood a head taller than the men around him, not even counting his wild hair.
"Kanto's sending me the big guns are we?" Giovanni drawled at seeing the man, almost managing a smile.
"The biggest," Surge laughed, Grace recognized that laugh from tournaments on the TV. Tipping his broad shades he flashed a wink to go with his twinkling smile. "Hope civi's life hasn't made you soft, Sakaki. You ready to ship out?"
"I'll need a moment."
Shelving her rage, and her fear, Grace managed something like a bright smile for Gio as he gathered his things. His things were mainly medicines and a jacket she hadn't seen before but
had seen enough police shows to recognize as flak. He slipped it over his shirt, then hid it under a suit jacket. The last thing he pulled out, from its locked box, was a gun. That he holstered to his hip, alongside his team.
And while she worked, she decided something.
She got her things. A well-stocked medical kit, a few spare sets of clothes she'd never miss, blankets, some water, and a utility knife.
He didn't protest when she stepped out with him, though Surge did.
"Now look here pretty thing, there's no room for civilians on this thing, and I've
been with army medical, you don't have that type of steel."
Ignoring him she turned to one of the officers. "How are things at Viridian Gen?"
Grace did not miss the less-than-subtle questioning glance the cop tipped to Gio, or Gio's nod.
"Hell on earth, Madam. It's a slury. The Center got bombed, so they moved base to the Gen's west wing. Everyone mobile whose willing to risk gunfire is just dumping the wounded and the bodies of people and 'mon off in droves. There is no one distinguishing between Made Man, Copper, or Civilian."
That more than anything decided her.
"You gentlemen either provide me an escort or I'm walking, your choice." Then to Gio, who surely, sanely, should be protesting, said. "We'll be able to cover more ground, to help more people, if we split up."
Resignation warred with pride, and then, finally he tipped her head up and indulged one languid kiss.
"For luck." He breathed, then broke off turning to the chatty copper. "Santiago, she's with you, you get her there and stay with her. You make sure none of those Made Men get a chance to lay a hand on her..."
"Sir."
The younger man pulled a half salute and then took Grace's arm in his own, guiding her to his car. She looked back once, to find Surge walking beside Gio, both men talking quietly as they were stepping into a different car. Then she was in, and what he was doing had to fade into the back of her mind because what was important was what she could do now.
