Alchemist shuts down his OpNet terminal and smiles grimly. He's certain of it now. That post was nearly an open admission of White Rat's guilt, considdered alongside the other evidence the Knights had been collecting.

Digi had uncovered rumors of a shipment of heavy weapons heading for Chicago. The robberies were just a chance to get capital for these, Alchemist was sure of it. Too bad the lead hadn't solidified into a time and place.

The referrence to Chuck-e-cheese was too open to be trusted, but the fact that he'd mentioned a suit standing out was a definite clue. He'd decided to change a detail of the meeting, most likely he would actually be wearing a suit, since that wasn't really subtle enough to be code for something less obvious, like a change of time or place.

The other clues were beyond his investigative skill, but he was pretty sure they would hold meaning for some of his teammates. He paged Rochelle, the receptionist and secratary for the Knights, and asked her to get the rest of the team into the 'war room' as soon as possible. He headed there himself.

It was in the low sixties with a slight breeze coming off the lake. Without his fur he was cold, so he pulled the coat closed to keep out the chill. He had arrived early to check out the area, but now he waited for the cab to arrive.

The cab was supposed to pick him up at 9:05, he had checked with the cab company. From there it was to travel north a few blocks and then west two blocks to Lincoln Park. In the park was a trailer where all the stuff was. If all went well, Rat could go home having finished what he needed to do.

Vali had been tracking the scent of the Ghetto Robber ever since the bank robbery. A small time robbery wouldn't normally have drawn the Knights in, but the fact that a nova had been taken out, and so easily, had disturbed the Chicago PD enough that they had made the call.
After that, it had taken Vali a few minutes to sort out the detritus from the clues. The strongest was the scent layed down by the robber where he had jumped up on the counter. What had followed was akin to skinning an onion and had been sometimes as uncomfortable as that. First, Vali had to shift through the normal background scents of the man's clothes, then the make-up and the foundation that someone had used. He had called back to WCK HQ to have Bandwidth do a selective scene breakdown to see if he could unviel what their subject really looked like. Beyond that, he had to track down the public transportation the subject had used. Check the stops were he had ... and hadn't ... gotten off at, and finally he had tracked him to what Vali assumed was the targets comfort zone.

Long practice had conditioned Vali's psyche to walking unseen while in plain sight. Normally, like most people, he wouldn't have given the homeless a second glance, but a few of them acted differently, which is to say, they acted with a purpose. He filed it away and kept searching until he found the place were the Ghetto Robber had been transformed. He stealthed around the place, gathering clues and fingerprints for others to examine. More importantly, to him, he gathered another scent, the one of the artist who had masked the target.

The call came in from WCK about the van robbery. Vali had been working this case for over 24 hours, yet he felt exhilarated, not tired. He lept to the scene in two beats and though the van was totally ablaze, it didn't take him long to pick up the target's scent again. He tossed that information back to WCK, along with the odd homeless people and began tracking the new scents that the subject was now associating with.
'This guy is thinking like a baseline,' he thought. 'A clever baseline, but a baseline none the less.'
He sat back and let his tactical senses kick in. He went over some key points.
Target had run over and touched the prone nova, yet the nova had made no mention of feeling weaker, or powerless, just a long stint of dis-coordination ... an attack done at range ... to multiple people.
The subject had been building up a base of sorts ... had to narrow that down ... and recruited followers among the dispossessed. Why?
Subject had graduated to a major heist worth over half a million. Now the FBI would become involved. Some sort of quick, short term action was indicated. But what?
Vali needed more information.
He sighed and began tracking the get away vechile and tasked Bandwidth to get whatever footage was availabe from any vechiles along the routes in and out of the places the subject had been.

He was still tracking down the subjects new primary when the call came in from Alchemist.

Sandcaster was just scooping the last of the catfood into the bowl when her pager went off. There was only one thing that pager was used for...and that meant it was time to hurry. "OK, Sherman, you be good; Mommy needs to go to work." The big tabby gave her a single "meow" before starting in on it's food. Must be nice, the sand-skinned nova thought, sparing a glance for her untouched dinner steaming away on the counter as she hurriedly locked the front door behind her and ran to her car.

The old Subaru didn't make a contest of things tonight, gladly; it roared to life with only the slightest of blue belches, and she thanked whatever gods oversaw cranky automobiles with too little maintenance as she eased the wagon into drive and set forth to do battle with the evening Chicago traffic.

Luck was on her side; between falling into the flow behind a traffic cop and cashing in more traffic light karma than she could hope to regain in a month of Sundays, she was pulling into the underground garage at WCK headquarters in less than thirty minutes.

She gave the faithful steed an appreciative pat before she ran for the express elevator; a minute and change later, she was stepping into the Knight's "war room" and taking her seat. "What have we got, people?"

Jager appears by OpCast with scenes of flames in the background.
"I'm helping out in an industrial fire on the South Side. It's still iffy here right now and I would like to stick with the firemen for a few more hours if possible. What's the situation?"

Alchemist waves at a seat as Sandcaster enters the room, followed shortly by Blackstar. Jager and Vali appear on two of the room's many monitors, and a third displays a black background with a text interface that represented Bandwidth, who apparently couldn't be bothered to come upstairs from his computer.

"Jager, keep on that fire. I'll stop by there later to do damage control on the surrounding buildings, when I've got time. Everyone else, I think we've just gotten a break on the Nova bankrobber. Bandwidth, did you track down that post I asked about?"

Text begins to appear on Bandwidth's screen, accompanied by his computer generated voice. "Yeah, it was a public terminal, just like all the others. But this time, he tried to cover his tracks. Not very well, just a few public relays, but enough to know he was paranoid about that message."

Alchemist nodded, and started speaking again. "So our mystery nova is pretty definitely White Rat, from the OpNet, and he's the buyer on those heavy weapons that Digi tracked into the city. Has anybody found out where they're being kept?"

Rat kept fiddling with the weapon he had stashed underneath his jacket. "I should not be this paranoid" he thought. Rationalizing it to his anxiousness in completing the night's job helped alleviate some on the paranoia. Still, he wondered why he had shown up so early to the pick up location.

What to do after this night, weighed heavily on his mind. He was still at odds, on whether to stay in the city or leave for another town. Chicago had been his home for many years. He knew where he was in the city just by the smell of the garbage in the dumpsters. Most the little cubby-holes and forgotten spaces of the city were known to him, and he hated to have to leave such familiar ground. "Soon I will have to make a decision" sighed Rat.

Rain began to lightly fall on the city, making soft thudding noises as it landed on Rat's coat.
Fall was here and winter was on its way.

April is also remotely connected to the war room - her monitor blank, as her communicator is largely unable to keep up with her flurries of activity as she works on site with Jager.

Indeed, she isn't bothering to use her communicator, speaking in radio all on her own. While the team communication system wasn't initially able to cope well with this, Alchemist and Bandwidth have long since enabled the system to recognize and differentiate her largely undisciplined broadcasts.

She is somewhere above or within the fire, looking for any lingering survivors and providing a safety net to the firefighters working their way into the flaming structure. Her 'voice' reveals little of this:

"Um, I don't have anything. I know the police haven't a clue."

"Well, some days ago I was helping an Spanish Franciscan, Father Santiago, who manage a homeless shelter near the Lake. Then, after some honest work, he confides to me that something strange is happening in the city.

Apparently, there are a lot of rumours between the street people about a `revolution´ of sorts that some of them are planning.

I investigate and skulk around a bit and discover that the good Father´s right. It takes more work because is clear that those people have received training by an expert in urban tactics.

They use a cell structure and I had to investigate a lot before I catch one that was in the reunion that started all.

It seems that one of them makes a discourse against the rest of the society. He promises that they were going to extract revenge for all the injustices they have suffered in the past.

Thanks to this person I could find one of the direct lieutenants of the agitator. He´s a young Hispanic called Roman and a glue sniffer. I tracked him to the Grant Park and watch him disappear in the sewer´s entrance.

There I found the clue that unifies all that with our present case".

BlackStar gives a plastic little bag to Alchemist.

"Those white hairs I think are similar to the ones founded by Vali in the two assaults and the car explosion. But I would like an exam by you Alchemist, if you don´t mind".

Alchemist takes the bag from Blackstar and nods. "These are definitely from the same nova. Excellent work, Blackstar. Now we've got a solid lead, an accomplice, as well as the means to track the Rat further. This Roman will talk, we just have to find him and he'll lead us straight to the Rat. Volunteers?"

"Um, well, really kinda busy here, so I guess I'll stick with Jager. But I'll be here if you need me. I mean, I can get anywhere in town right away, if something goes wrong."

"If Blackstar can help find Roman, I'll be happy to go. My calendar is pretty clear," Sandcaster says with a slight grin.

"Of course, I could take you there Sandcaster. He´s sleeping right now his vice in a sleazy downtown hotel. We could catch him without a lot of problems".

The phone was ringing and Rat was becoming impatient. "Where the hell is that kid" Rat fumed to himself. He was angry because Roman had not meet him where he was supposed to. "That little shit is hooked on the glue again. I know it!"

He knew better than to trust these monkeys. These pathetic creatures had no brains. At least Fred was of some use in helping him load the heavy weaponry. "Once in a while they are good for something, but most of this group will need to be replaced" mused Rat.

"Fred, I want you to go to Roman's hotel room and tell him to grab the briefcase I gave him earlier in the evening. The contents inside are very important. Wake him up if you need to. I want him to meet me in the alley behind Dominicks grocery on the 6000 block of Broadway, at 2:00 Am. You stay behind in the hotel room and wait for any messages from the scouts on that side of town."

"Will do, boss" replied Fred. As Fred left, he began to initiate dialogue with himself, which made Rat smile and observe: "How cute, he's talking to his best friend again. These baselines are such fragile creatures."

Rat was looking at the new assortment of weaponry and other goodie. He had paid a over $100,000 for these items. They included a portable anti-tank weapon with two extra rounds. A small rail gun with two clips of solid spheres and two clips of hypersonic shotgun shells. In addition, he had one flak jacket, 3 kevlar vests, and 8 sets of armored T-Shirts.

"I need more" Rat mumbled out loud. "How am I going to lead an army with only a few piddling weapons?"

His tactician's mind began to brainstorm ways of moving in more weapons. He knew he wouldn't be able to use his Chicago contact for the time being. He was already under suspicion and the so called Windy City Knights were on his trail.

A line from Sun Tzu's the Art of War came to mind. "Determine his dispositions and so ascertain the field of battle".

It was time to do some counter-surveillance.

It's quiet in Alchemist's lab as he goes over the after-action report. His head is filled with the ramifications of what's happened.

Fact: White Rat is gathering together the city's homeless population, arming them, and teaching them military skills
Fact: His followers (or at least Roman) are loyal enough to stand up to the authorities, lie, and resist whatever DigiGeist put them through.
Fact: He now has significant firepower, explosives, heavy weapons, and unknown cash reserves to get more.

These were the most compelling facts to come from the after action reports. Other information, such as the location of the Rat's lair (the sewers, though now moved from where Roman thought it was), the source of his weapons (a minor criminal, only recently entered into the arms trade, and now behind bars because of it), his heightened presence, the fact that he's the only (visible) nova in the organization...Alchemist tallied all of this data in his head and came to the only logical conclusion: The White Rat was insane.

He thought himself either some kind of populist rebel, or else an untouchable supervillian. Those were the only real conclusions, given the apparent actions so far. He was building himself an army, in the heart of a major metropolitan center, right under the noses of the biggest group of city defenders ever assembled.

Unfortunately, he had thus far proven himself to be nearly as hard to catch as he probably thought he was. It wouldn't be too long before one of the Knights tracked down his base of operations, though. And that would probably be the end for him...

But it wouldn't, really. That was part of the problem. The White Rat was the Knights' first nova enemy, and they hadn't come up with a reasonable means of dealing with psychotic novas yet. Handing him over to Utopia was out of the question, in Alchemist's opinion. Giving him up to the Directive or the military was nearly as bad, considdering Alchemist had a sneaking suspicion on the Rat's origins. No, for now he'd have to be housed here if he was captured, until a reasonable solution could be determined.

Alchemist left his lab to talk to the city liason about the arrangements...

Vali had spent nearly two days on the streets tracking the movements of this so-called 'underground army'. The biggest problem was that it appeared leaderless. Still, he had tracked the make-up artist as well as the trail of about three other key players. Scent was the key and these people didn't bathe nearly enough. They had the stink of this nova on them.

He sat up on the top of building, waiting for one of the key players that had been close to the Target. His phone gave him a gentle tingle and he answered.
"Sure," he whispered. "I'll be waiting for April before we begin anything."

Long moments pass as the evening breeze comes off the lake and winds around Vali's perch - the peace abruptly disturbed by April's arrival. She seems to materialize out of nowhere, the breeze twisting and swirling a little more busily as she stops in the air:

"I'm sorry I'm late. I just left my suit at HQ for Alchemist to get the cinders out of after the fire, but I forgot and I was all over my apartment looking for it before I remembered where it was and Alchemist doesn't like me tearing through his lab so I had to slow down and I only left myself, like, fourteen and a half seconds to dress and get here in the first place and, uh ... yeah. Sorry."

"Ready to go?"


Five hours later, April is skimming through the cramped tunnels of the old sewer system, Vali just an occasional voice over the communicator. Turned out he wasn't much for conversation on the job, which makes sense, with the stealth and all.

April herself is flying dark and silent, her force fields rippling outward and splashing like ghosts against the arcing walls, the bricks laying snaggletoothed where a century or so of surging storm waters has long since worn away the mortar.

She needs no light and she makes no sound - feeling her way with telekinetic fields and muffling the sound/breeze of her passage with expert manipulation of her bubble. She came up with that last in order to keep from causing too much trouble (in the form of sonic booms and gale force winds), but it seems to work just as well for stealth.

She has already put many, many miles of tunnel behind her, darting and zooming below a ridiculous percentage of downtown Chicago.

Even now, she gets a change of orders from Bandwidth - Vali's found another trace, and the best-fit algorithms Bandwidth's computers have been running suggest a high chance of the hideout being within five specific city blocks a couple miles to her southeast. Directions follow.

For Vali, its all about patience. The security measures are adequate, perhaps even good considering the resources the target has to work with, but not the product of a mind long accustomed to working with and thinking like a nova. Human guards can be only so alert. In the tunnels, they feel safe and comfortable, though a touch of fear gives an edge to their alertness. It is not nearly enough. Once or twice, he pauses in mid-move and shifts his full-body suit to conform to the background. Now, he has moved past the guards and even discovered a back, or rather a submerged door into the Target's abode. Most likely he keeps it as one of a few boltholes if things go badly for him. No human could make it through the chill, fetid waters long enough to get to the other side, but April and her suit can. Better yet, the room is not lit right now.

He waits patiently in a ceiling corner while uploading information to Bandwidth. His admiration for this nova grows. Hidden ambush points cut in the tunnels. Trash dumps in the ceilings to confuse pursuit. Even a few cut-aways were small areas can be collapsed in the event of an attack ... turning this confused jumble of tunnels, sewers, and underground railways into a real maze. Given more time and better troops, this guy could do some real harm. Too bad about that nova at the bank. Without that one hitch, he might have had the time to pull off whatever he has been building toward. Oddly enough, the Target is not present. More than a few of the constant smells here are also absence and ... there is another smell here. One out of place with the dank scents of the homeless.

En route, April gets an update from Bandwidth - Vali has found the Rat's hideout. Coordinates follow, and she should take care to avoid the guards.

She snaps to a stop and reaches out with her telekinesis, raking fingers of force through the indicated area until she finds Vali latched to the roof of an isolated sewer branch - the area hasn't seen use in a long time, which really would tend to make it ideal for a hidden base.

She mentally shrugs, then goes there - working out the route in her head and slamming through the routine at relativistic speeds, telekinetically buffering her environment against the potential trauma of her passage.

She moves too quickly to be seen, flashing the entire length of the route in far less time than it takes for the human eye to isolate an image. Her arrival in Vali's tunnel is clean enough - one moment there is empty space, then next she is hanging in the air, the air stirring slightly around her, smelling like a wind coming off Lake Michigan.

Vali feels her force field wash over him, creating a moment of molasses-like slowness before she adjusts it to let him move normally. Their words fall totally flat, cut off by telekinetic buffers before it gets a chance to leave her two-meter bubble.

"What's up?"

"Underground city full of the homeless, gangers, and devotees of our guy. Seems he looks like a big, white rat, but walks like a man. It also seems, from the rumor mill flowing down here, that our Target is away at the moment, packing some heavy gear and he has someone else - details vary too widely to get a real gist of who this is - with him. Seems some other gang of some kind stepped on his toes, and some of his flunkies. I've already alerted Bandwidth to be ready for anything on the police bands, or anything coming from our own information net. We need some back up, though. We need Sandcaster, BlackStar, and Jager and we can shut this whole thing down."

"I'm ready to go in when you are, Vali," Sandcaster's voice crackles across his earpiece. "I don't know about White Rat, but at the very least I should be able to wall off large chunks of his little army behind some sandstone."

"Should we head back and talk it over, or do something now? If he's away, we should probably hurry and be ready before he gets back, right?"

"Or, if we need to do something now, me and Blackstar can probably get everyone in here pretty quick. I don't know. This isn't really my thing."

Vali seems to think the situation over for about a second. Over the link to the team,
"April, get Sandcaster here asap. We can use Blackstar and Jager as beaters on the outside while we set a trap for the Rat and his pals. What say you?"

"Whatever you say. I'm just the muscle."

Grinning, she strikes a 'Supergirl' pose, then vanishes in a swirl of fresh lake air.


Shooting through the sewers and out into open air at once-more relativistic speeds, April doesn't bother to slow down appreciably until she reaches HQ, hitting a dime stop fifteen feet above the building's helipad. Dropping to roof level and skimming into the building, she inquires over the radio:

"Where are you, Sandcaster?"

"I don't know where Sandcaster is at the moment, but I heard you found the Rat's lair."

Alchemist replies as he exits the rooftop access hatch. He pulls a large metallic box through the hole behind him.

"And I just finished putting together a better mousetrap. Care to give me a lift?"

"April, I'm just pulling up in front of Knight's HQ." Indeed, the tired old Subaru was squeaking to a stop in front of a hydrant; I'll deal with the ticket, Sandcaster thought as she put it in parking gear and turned the key. The engine made a coughing stutter that had "death rattle" written all over it. The sandskinned nova sighed; Just something else to deal with later.

Climbing out of the heap, she voiced into the mic, "I'm ready for a pick-up, if one can be arranged." I've got to learn to fly one of these days, she ponders; gazing back at her possibly-deceased car, she amends her thought: ...and soon.

BlackStar have been busting the web cells of homeless of White Rat´s army all day when the call arrives.

He shifts to his "black" form and teleports to the HQ´s entrance.

"Do you need a ride, Madam?"

Whithout waiting for an answer, he takes Sandcaster´s hand and goes to the Rat´s lair.

April nods to Alchemist.

"Sure thing. I'll be right back, soon's I get Sandcaster."

Drifting back up off the roof, she shoots out over the side, does a barrel roll (just for the heck of it), and drops out of the sky. This takes only moments, so she catches sight of Blackstar porting away with Sandcaster in the half second before she reaches the ground.

Puzzled, she shrugs and darts inside for three seconds, returning to slip a parking permit under Sandcaster's windshield wiper before rocketing back up to the helipad.

"Looks like she's already on her way, so let's see about catching up, ok?

April dips in close to Alchemist, loosely wrapping an arm around his waist while telekinetically hefting his metal box and catching it under her free arm.

She casts her eyes up in an expression of mild concentration, and the air around them flexes and wavers. Alchemist feels a brief drowning sensation - the air going thick and fluid around him - but it passes quickly. There is still a little resistance if he makes any sudden movements, but it is other wise imperceptible to normal senses.

April encourages Alchemist to take a more solid grip ("Really. I mean, I won't drop you anyway, but you'll probably feel a whole lot better about it if you do.), then kicks off and makes for open air.

The force bubble thickens considerably at this point, wrapping around Alchemist and his box like an invisible steel sleeve. With a word of warning, April then really kicks into gear - shooting up, arcing around, and diving back into the city at a few thousand kilometers per hour.

Despite the sudden, terrifying disorientation of seeing the ground leap away, turn, and approach over the course of mere seconds, the discomfort is minimal - Alchemist can feel the g forces involved, but the bubble is permeating his body and keeping all of his soft bits where they should be.

The wind hisses around the bubble, but April and Alchemist are buffered against the sound and drag. She says something about holding on extra tight, and everything turns into an undifferentiated wash of color - red behind, blue ahead.

When the world comes back, they are hanging in the middle of a pitch black sewer tunnel - the stink of the place only slightly mitigated by the scent of fresh, lake air. There is a pause.

"Does anyone need a light? I mean, I'm fine, but what about you guys?"

Alchemist staggers away from where April sets him down, and braces himself on the wall for a moment. With a rueful look up at April, he takes his metal case and says, "OK, now I remember why I hate rollercoasters."

Alchemist takes a careful look around him, and then speaks softly to the assembled. "I'm going to use gas and a specialized form of Mox I've developed. It should take out any nova caught in it. I'll trigger as soon as the Rat arrives. As soon as you get word that he's nearby, dose yourselves with the nova strength anti-toxin from your utility packs. Now I've got to go set this mousetrap. If you need me, use your comms."

Finished with his impromptu speach, Alchemist sinks into the wall he was leaning on, dragging the metal box behind him.

[damnit]

Sandcaster's eyes...change. Silica builds up on the corneas, forming quickly in precision quartz lenses that gather and focus both what little ambient light exists and a variety of spectra beyond human sight. "I'm good for vision," she whispers into her mic; digging out the heavy-duty syringe from her pack, she adds, "and ready with my anti-toxin. Just let me know when you're ready for us to advance, Alchemist."

A black shadow almost invisible in the dark sewers, BlackStar answers.

"I have other, more acute senses in this form, no problem. Ready when you are."