“Which brings me to the primary subject of this meeting,” Piggot informed them.  “I would like to do the very same thing here, with Chariot.  He would work alongside you, quite likely see you unmasked.

…

When I suggested this, I was expecting Piggot to be the strongest voice against it, out of all of them. Wow.

You would socialize with him, and you would pretend not to know that he is passing on information to his employer.  For that, for the risks you would be undertaking, I require your express permission.”

Makes sense. She’s practically asking the Wards to give Coil (or at least that’s who they think is getting it) information about really sensitive things, including each of their secret identities. Given how intensely protective the PRT is with their heroes’ secret identities (judging by what happened when Taylor found out about Sophia), that’s quite the thing for Piggot of all people to ask. She must be seeing some really good opportunities to mislead Coil here, to be willing to take this risk.

“That,” Piggot spoke, “And there are prior cases of Coil using undercover operatives.”

Yeah. As I said, it does fit his M.O.

“Prior cases?” Weld asked.

“This doesn’t leave this room,” Piggot spoke.  Vista nodded alongside everyone else.  “We know there are three agents employed in this very building who are working for Coil.”

Interesting. So they’re aware of this, but not confronting those agents (assuming they know which agents) about it… so as to provide Coil with false information and not let on that they’re on to him, perhaps?

“Seriously?” Clockblocker asked.  “As in, right now?”

“Yes,” Piggot nodded, “We might have gone entirely unaware, but Dragon found that one face on our security camera footage matched up with that of a known soldier of fortune.  On investigation, we found two more.  Capable gunmen, each with a wide array of skills ranging from facility with computers to multiple languages.  Very much the type Coil would employ.

Huh, nice sleuthing.

We might have arrested them, but I spoke with people with higher credentials and clearance than myself, and we came to the unanimous agreement that it would be ideal to keep those mercenaries employed here.  It allows us to keep a close eye on them for knowledge we could use, and we occasionally feed them bad or misleading information, obviously with a great deal of consideration each time.

Moles can be pretty useful when you’re aware of them.

I suppose it’s true that Chariot did seem interested in money and resources.

Without waiting for Flechette, she marched for the elevator.  Flechette fell in step behind her.

Everyone else was sitting in the meeting room, except for Director Piggot, who stood with her arms folded.

I wonder if anyone but Kid knows what they’re here for yet.

“Thank you for being prompt,” Piggot spoke, “Would you please have a seat?”

Vista obediently sat in the chair closest to her.  Flechette found a chair beside Weld.

“Kid Win?” Piggot prompted.

I’ll take that as a no.

Well, Piggot might know the short version, and Weld.

“Here’s the deal, guys.  I went out to talk to Chariot, and there’s a bit of a complication.”  He tapped the screen of his smartphone, and the computer screen at one end of the table changed to show text from a series of emails.  “Chariot hasn’t yet agreed to join the team, but there’s evidence that he fully intends to join as a mole for an unknown party.”

That’s a pretty good summary.

“This evidence was assumed using legal methods, of course,” Piggot spoke.

Riiight, about that…

“Of course,” Kid Win grinned in a way that left no doubt for anyone present that he was lying through his teeth.

Hehe.

“We believe this unknown party is Coil.  There’s no other criminals in town that would really do this.

Hm, yeah, I suppose this does fit with Coil’s M.O. A sneaky maneuver that allows him a bit of control on the inside of one of the factions he’s trying to take down.

That said… maybe this is actually Taylor’s doing? I mean, there’s a reason I was calling it a Reverse Taylor, and we don’t fully know yet what she’s trying to do to accomplish her goal of making things better. Not sure how putting a mole in the Wards instead of joining herself would help her with whatever she’s doing, but it’s entirely possible.

Also “we” indicates Kid has indeed talked it through with Piggot and Weld already.

Fenrir’s Chosen aren’t that subtle, and they’re too racist to work with Chariot.  Purity’s group is, again, too racist.  The Undersiders aren’t well-funded enough.  It doesn’t fit the Travelers’ MO.”

How does this require being well-funded? It’s entirely possible that Chariot would be working with them of his own volition rather than because of being paid, or he could be getting paid in something other than money (a very Coil-like thing, admittedly). Besides, the Undersiders have a better financial backing than you probably think, though of course that takes us back to Coil again.

Hell, were they even doing Gallant justice?  The guy who’d set out to be the literal knight in shining armor, lived his life with more chivalry than any five people you plucked off the street?  All he got was a photo and a name on a memorial.

I mean, Taylor’s narration from 8.8 went into quite a bit of detail as to why doing all that much more causes problems, but I get how this would feel insufficient.

“You okay?” Flechette asked.

Vista tore her eyes from the portraits, “I’m fine.  Let’s go, Weld’s waiting.”

…yeah, let’s.

She looked at her own picture.  In contrast to the boys’, it was vibrant, filled with color.

Oh, so they all have pictures here, not just the recently deceased ones. I see.

Her eyes, costume and the frame of the picture were a high-saturation blue-green, the background of the image a sunset orange to highlight her blonde hair.  Vista was young in that picture too.

They’re all so young… that’s the point of the Wards. To have a place where young capes can have official support and supervision, rather than getting themselves killed while going solo.

Her photo had a missing fang tooth on the bottom row, which created a small, dark gap in her awkward smile.  She’d been just a month shy of turning eleven, then.

In other words she’s been a Ward for a little over two years.

Since she was ten.

I wonder if the PRT has a lower limit here?

She hated that picture.

Another reminder of how everyone sees her as just a kid, I suppose.

She hated it all the more because she couldn’t help but wonder if the time would come when that picture would be hanging over the front desk in black and white, smiling that guileless goofy smile that was everything she didn’t want people to remember about her.

Ouch.

Her train of thought stopped dead when her eye fell on the portraits on the wall above the front desk.

…oh boy.

Gallant.

Three feet high and two feet wide, the two pictures were black and white, bordered by foot-wide black frames.  The pictures themselves were head-and-shoulders shots of Aegis and Gallant, both in costume, masks on.  She knew from her own experience that the pictures would have been taken in their first week on the team.

Huh. Seems like an odd choice to not use updated pics.

Gallant looked so young.  He had still been so young when the tidal wave had smashed into him and caved in his chest.  Only seventeen.

Out of respect for the dead, I am trying so hard to rein in my desire to make an ABBA reference right now.

“Amazingly mature?”

Maybe that’s not something Vista hears as much as she’d like to. Or maybe she’s a little offended that Flechette didn’t expect it from her.

They had reached the PRT building.  A trip that had taken them thirty minutes on the way out had taken them four on the way back, with the aid of Vista’s power.

Pretty sweet!

Flechette held the bulletproof glass door open, raised a hand in greeting to the PRT uniform who stood alert on the other side.  “You know what I mean.”

Does she, though?

Vista had to bite her tongue.  Pointing out that people were being condescending had a way of making her look petulant, which only compounded the problem.  Yes.  Because any maturity on my part is something special. Doesn’t matter that I have nine months of seniority over Kid Win, being thirteen means everyone expects me to be squealing over Justin Beiber or the Maggie Holt books, or dressing in pink or-

Welp, looks like it was the latter option.

Also I’m glad you have better taste than squealing over Justin Bieber. I’m not even talking about his music – from all I’ve heard, the guy’s a douche.

…wait, he had gotten famous all the way back in 2012? Sheesh, time flies.