Volume 2: Chapter 206 — Fanboy

Unfortunately, the surveillance cameras of other transit stations were only accessible onsite. Dan and Carver were forced to head off towards the vigilante's predicted final stop, some twelve miles away. Every second cost them, as their overt approach would spawn rumors that would eventually reach the ears of someone important. Fred the security guard hadn't helped in that regard. The poor man must have found his spine sometime after they left because a supervisor was waiting for the pair when they arrived at their destination. He wasn't an impressive specimen by any means; between the rumpled button-down and slightly askew glasses, he was the very picture of an overworked middle manager. Nevertheless, he was higher on the totem pole than a mere security guard and would be proportionally harder to bluster past.

"Uh oh," Dan muttered, the moment he laid eyes on the man. They'd entered the station the same as the last. Big and showy, without an ounce of subtlety. Carver strode confidently forward, even as the stressed-out manager rushed to meet them.

"We're fine," Carver said out of the corner of her mouth. "They'd have sent someone higher-up if ol' Fred had really ratted us out. This is just him covering his ass."

Covering his ass or not, the impediment was unwelcome, especially when Carver's brusque order to see the surveillance room was stiffly rebuffed by the stubborn supervisor. "We will obviously cooperate with the FBI," he said, as he led them away from the stairs and its crowd of nosy civilians, "but there are proper channels and procedures that are meant to be followed for this kind of request. I can't just give you access."

Carver gave the man her stoniest glare, but he weathered it like a well-seasoned retail worker. 

"Procedures exist to ease the process when time isn't a factor," Carver enunciated icily. "Time is a factor, here."

The supervisor frowned, glancing around the station in what looked like genuine bewilderment. "Is there an imminent threat?"

"You've got vigilantes openly operating within Metro transit stations," Carver accused, in a creative re-interpretation of reality. "That's illegal on its face, but what's worse is it's only a matter of time before something tragic occurs. It always does with vigilantes, and then you will have to live with the guilt of knowing you could have changed the outcome!" She finished her little spiel with an impassioned gesture, pointing an accusing finger at the stoic supervisor and watching carefully for his reaction.

The man looked like he was watching paint dry. It was as if being accused of harboring vigilantes by the FBI rated something like a two out of ten on his concern scale. Or maybe he was just so inured to people yelling at him that he'd gone into autopilot and the particulars of the situation hadn't really registered yet. Whatever the case, he remained unmoved.

Carver kept up the pressure. "Frankly, given how obstructionist you've been, I'm thinking the FBI should take a good, hard look at whatever it is you're trying to hide."

This threat won them a facial expression, but it was only a flat, fake smile. "I'm sorry you feel that way," the supervisor said in a calming monotone. "Please understand I can only follow Metro policy in this regard. It's really not up to me." He glanced between the two of them, still wearing that lifeless smile. He checked his watch. "If there was nothing else? I'm afraid I'm expecting a VIP to arrive any moment now."

Carver's face darkened at the dismissal, but she waved him away. It was clear he wasn't going to budge. 

"We need a new angle," she muttered lowly, her eyes roaming their surroundings as the supervisor shuffled away.

The transit station was similar to the last, with a security booth at the base of the stairs. Dan could see the guard peeking out in their direction from behind tinted glass, his face filled with worry. There was a lever they could use, Dan thought. The supervisor might've had his sense of self-preservation scoured out of him, but his subordinate clearly still felt fear. Dan nudged Carver, jerking his head at the guard.

"I can have a chat with that one if you can keep his boss away," Dan said.

Carver turned to look. The guard's eyes got real wide at the attention, and he pretended to be busy on his computer. His head was ducked down low, and his shoulders were raised protectively. He looked like a turtle hiding in its shell.

Carver snorted. "No, I can't buy you that much time. Not if it takes anywhere near as long as the last one."

"Okay," Dan conceded. "So, what's the plan—"

Dan paused as something changed. It took him a moment to register the source. His veil warned him as the crowds above parted before a procession of boots. Some twenty people were marching nearly in lockstep toward the stairs, and they were making enough of an impression that people were stopping to watch.

"We've got company incoming," Dan warned Carver, his mind immediately conjuring several insane scenarios. A group of feds here to arrest them for stumbling into some sort of greater investigation. A group of vigilantes, here to protect their own. The People, rising out of their hidey-hole to enact some sort of grand plan, or the Evo Church, here for vengeance.

"Company?" Carver inquired sharply. "What do you mean, 'company?'"

The sounds of the station briefly quieted, as faces turned to the top of the stairs. Dan heard feet stomping in unison as people moved out of the way. Men in dark suits and jackets flowed down the stairs in a wave, drawing the eyes and attention of everyone present. They were eye-catching in the same deliberate manner that Carver had been, every inch of them dressed to impress and impose. Except, some of them were carrying cameras, and the two at the front looked awfully familiar.

"It's the fucking Vigi-Busters," Dan realized, struck dumb by bewilderment. The Vigi-Busters, and their entourage. Who were all dressed in the same secret agent suits as the hosts, for some reason.

"...The TV show?" Carver asked, pausing her movement. She'd been reaching for her gun.

"Why the fuck are they here?" Dan asked aloud, ignoring the question.

He saw the Metro supervisor hurrying forward to meet the group. The man's face was no longer flat and lifeless. Instead, he wore the smile of a rabid fanboy finally meeting his idol. Dan thought back to what the man had said as he'd left. He was waiting on a VIP...

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Dan said, as the supervisor led the film crew to the station's surveillance room and opened the door.

Carver stared, equally appalled, as the stiff, burnt-out manager fanned himself in excitement before following the last of the crew inside. The door shut with quiet finality. The security guard was still in his booth outside, still pretending to work on his computer. He seemed afraid to look in their direction.

"Is that little prick giving some random dickheads access to his cameras because they're on TV?" Carver asked Dan, her voice seething. 

"Seems to be the case," Dan confirmed. He swept his veil into the room. "I'm gonna listen in. Stay here."

He vanished before she could respond, seating himself in the Metro bathrooms, while his veil stretched across into the surveillance suite. He summoned his goggles from T-space and strapped them on. He opened up a tiny hole in the ceiling, stuffed between cracks in the sheetrock, with the other end inside his eyepiece.

The two Vigi-Brothers were autographing the supervisor's... DVD  collection? Dan squinted at the cover of the little box and realized it must be the show's first season or something similar. He felt like gagging. When the act was complete, the supervisor pocketed his DVD with undisguised glee and handed a flash drive over to the taller Vigi-Brother.

"All the relevant footage, as requested," he said with a smile. "I hope you catch whoever you're looking for! When do you think it'll air?"

The taller brother pocketed the flash drive, a pleased expression on his face. "We'll send you an advanced copy." He paused, eyeing the room. It was three times the size of Fred's surveillance room, but awfully cramped with all the people stuffed inside; between the two brothers, their whole entourage, the cameras and recording equipment, and the supervisor, there was barely room to move.

"Let's clear some space for filming," the tall Vigi-Brother said. He grinned at the supervisor. "We need a shot of us 'stumbling upon' the evidence for the show. I've got a script for you to follow if you want to make a cameo." The supervisor was nodding before he finished his sentence. "Excellent!" He clapped his hands, waving at his crew. "Alright people! Time to make some drama!"

Reality television, Dan thought. Emphasis on television.

He decided to watch things play out. Dan wanted to know exactly what these clowns had found, and how it had led them here. He wanted to head them off, before they did something insane like unmasking a vigilante in public, without any precautions. He presumed the flash drive was copied footage from the surveillance cameras, so they could splice it into their stupid TV show when necessary. 

Dan was gonna steal it.

A/N: Sorry about the delay. Had a sinus infection that put me down for a week. Better now.