The rest of the team is scattered - Maggie's at her house doing homework and research simultaneously, Lily's at Temple between classes, Tasha and Amelia are online from their respective locations. We've got a group chat going, everyone dropping their findings as they come in.
Tasha: Okay, Songbirds update. They showed up about two weeks after Shrike died. Maybe coincidence, maybe not, but the timing's suspicious.
Amelia: Bird theming feels too on the nose for Sons of Shrike though
Tasha: That's the thing - membership is way more diverse than you'd expect from a white nationalist splinter group. Inquirer article from yesterday has photos. Black members, women, whole demographic spread. If these were Shrike's people they wouldn't be letting that happen.
I type back.
Sam: So separate phenomenon? Just regular anti-powered extremists instead of specifically nazi ones?
Tasha: Looks like it. Still dangerous, still organized, but different ideology. More "powers are unnatural/dangerous" than "powers are part of white genocide conspiracy".
Sam: Powers are unnatural?
Tasha: A couple of them made statements to the Inquirer. Powers bad.
Lily: That's almost worse, I feel like :(. Nazis are like... Easily evil. This has broad appeal.
Sam: Elaborate on "powers bad"?
Tasha: Something about superpowers upsetting the "natural meritocracy of society". Letting people who don't deserve what they get, get more. It's still really Republican-y, just not... Nazi-y.
Maggie: Speaking of broad appeal, I've been looking into those Kingdom shell companies from last spring. The ones Jordan helped us find.
Maggie: They're gone. Like, professionally scrubbed from the internet. Business registrations show "dissolved," financial records archived and locked, web presence completely erased.
Sam: Don't like that.
Amelia: How thoroughly are we talking?
Maggie: Ghost treatment. You can find references to them in cached news articles and court documents, but the actual companies? Vanished. Someone paid good money to make that happen.
I lean back in my chair, wincing as my ribs protest. The Kingdom's good at covering tracks. We already knew that, but seeing the extent of it laid out is something else.
Sam: That's their pattern. Get exposed, burn everything, rebuild somewhere else. Makes investigating them a pain in the ass.
Tasha: On that note - did you know Maya Richardson used to be the superhero Stormrise? I don't remember if we've established this or not.
Sam: It's come up a couple times.
Tasha: Right, so I've been crawling cape forums and tabloid sites. She shows up at Crescent nightclub pretty regularly. At least three different gossip blogs mention seeing her there over the past year.
I type slowly, thinking through the implications.
Sam: Crescent is a Kingdom front, that's like, 100% sure. But it's also just a popular nightclub. My mom's been there. Doesn't prove anything. And the cops will never raid it because it's packing heat and at least like two superpowered guards at all times. Can't stop everyone going in and out.
Tasha: Exactly. It's suspicious but not actionable. Lots of people go to Crescent. Half the city's been there at some point.
Lily: So we've got circumstantial evidence that Maya frequents a place that happens to be owned by criminals, but that's not the same as proving she works for them.
Amelia: Everything with her is like this. Suspicious timing, convenient connections, but nothing concrete enough to act on.
My turn. I've been putting this off because talking to family feels complicated even when the family member is Victor Blanc, but I need those text messages. I start with a web search: "Victor Blanc" returns almost nothing, still. Still no forums, still no professional profiles, barely a digital footprint at all. Just a guy who drives trucks and doesn't interact with the world more than absolutely necessary. I'm not sure why I thought anything new would've popped up in the past two months. Pique?
But I remember the dispatcher's name from when I visited. Maeve. And Victor works for... Thorny Transport? Thorntin... Thornton! Thornton Transport. That's what the text message said, I think.
"Maeve Thornton Transport" gets me actual results. Company website, some logistics industry articles, and - there - Maeve Hely, dispatcher, with a JobBark profile and everything. A person who exists in the world like normal people do, with friends and family and a digital presence.
I dial Thornton Transport's main number. It rings three times before someone picks up.
"Thornton Transport, how can I help you?"
"Hi, I'm looking for Maeve Hely? This is Samantha Small, Victor Blanc's granddaughter. He's one of your drivers." I try to sound professional and not like a teenager investigating a criminal conspiracy. "I have some questions about his recent visit to Philadelphia. Could he call me back at this number?"
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There's a pause, some typing. "Let me transfer you to Maeve's line."
Another few rings, then a woman's voice, friendly but busy. "This is Maeve."
"Hi, Ms. Hely. I'm Sam Small, Victor Blanc's granddaughter. He visited me in Philadelphia a few weeks ago and I wanted to follow up with him about something we discussed. Could you pass along my number so he can call me back?"
"Oh, sure, honey. He's on a run down south right now, but I can radio him at the next stop. What's your number?"
I give her my cell, thank her, and hang up. Now it's just waiting.
...Huh. That was easy.
Sam: Called Victor's dispatcher. She's passing along my number. Should hear back soon.
Maggie: You think he'll actually call?
Sam: I think he has a sense of curiosity. I think he likes to know things and I don't think he likes to get fucked with.
Amelia: What ARE you going to ask him?
Sam: About who arranged his trip. Someone contacted his work, set up his time off, paid for his hotel. That's not normal. That's an operation.
I think. My grandfather. Victor is my grandfather, because I only have one Pop-Pop, and that's Moe. Where did I hear of Victor before I met him? Oblique references - from Camilla, my Mom, my Dad - to "That Man", as they said. Someone I'm never supposed to meet. But who...
WAIT. HER!
Sam: I remember!
I interrupt some chatter in progress. More tabloid stuff about Maya that I don't think has any teeth.
Sam: Mrs. Quiet. During the Soot operation. She was trying to bribe me to get info on Soot. And they started with money, but then she said something like "Don’t you want to meet your other grandfather?". Firstly - how'd she know I don't know my other grandfather? But then, she mentioned something else.
Maggie:
Sam: Normally I could discard that as some sort of stupid bait. But then she mentioned that he was handling long haul deliveries in... Virginia? Or Louisiana or something. And that Mr. E 'went digging' because I fucked with them during the Federov oeperation. But,
Sam: *operation
Sam: But, like... Hold on. I'm trying to put this together.
Tasha: It wasn't a bluff, it was actual. He's a long-haul trucker. He was actually doing long-haul deliveries at the time. Otherwise they would've just made something up. They did, actually, for real, look into him. Because they thought you'd buy it and that meant they'd have to fulfill their end of the deal.
Tasha: Can't fill their end if they used fake bait. Had to be real worms.
Sam: Exactly!
Tasha: Right, but here's the thing - how many people would even KNOW about Victor? Your mom disowned him. He's completely isolated. No friends, no social connections, barely exists online. You said yourself he's like more of a ghost than a person. People don't normally care about truckers even when they do have friends and family. No offense to all the truckers out there.
Lily: You're saying only someone who specifically researched Rachel's family would know he exists.
Tasha: Exactly. And who has motive to research Rachel's family? Who would benefit from hurting her specifically?
My phone buzzes. Unknown number, but the area code is... North Carolina, okay. Probably--
"This is Sam."
"Sam. It's Victor." His voice is flat, matter-of-fact, exactly how I remember it. "Maeve said you called."
"Yeah. I wanted to ask you about those text messages. The ones that got you to come visit Philadelphia."
"What about them?"
"Do you still have them? Can you read them to me? I kind of remember them, I just want to make sure I have them, like, exactly."
There's a pause, the sound of highway in the background. "Hold on." Some rustling, then he's back. "First one says: 'Mr. Blanc, we have a proposition regarding your family in Philadelphia. Please call when convenient. All expenses paid.'"
I'm typing as he talks, getting it all down.
"Next one: 'This concerns your granddaughter, Samantha. We've cleared the time off with Maeve at Thornton Transport. Room at the Residence Inn reserved in your name starting tomorrow.'"
My stomach does something unpleasant.
"Third: 'We understand discretion is important. This is a personal family matter. No strings attached.'"
"Last one: 'A little girl should know her grandfather, don't you think? Your choice, of course. The offer stands through the end of the month. Hope to hear from you soon.'"
I finish typing. "When was the last one sent?"
"Late August. Maybe August 28th or 29th."
Before the Pennsylvania vote. Before my Mom even went to Harrisburg. This was retaliation for the first challenge - for my Mom showing up to Maya's presser with a crowd of organized parents, and then I humiliated Argus Corps, her other pet project.
"Did you ever respond to them?"
"No. Just showed up. They arranged everything, I was curious." He pauses. "Someone contacted Maeve, told her I needed time off. She didn't question it because why would she? Boss says give someone vacation, you give them vacation."
"Did Maeve say who contacted her?"
"No. Didn't ask. Wasn't my business." Another pause. "You think it was your criminals. The ones you fight."
Not a question. Victor doesn't waste time with questions when he already knows the answer.
"Before I just thought. Now I'm certain."
"Makes sense. I'm not sure how they convinced my dispatcher." He's quiet for a moment, just highway noise. "I don't like being manipulated. But I'm not interested in revenge. That's your concern, not mine."
"Can you give me the number?"
He reads it off, and I cross-reference. Generic NYC area code, nothing distinctive. I write it down even though I know it won't lead anywhere. Burner phone, probably disposed of by now, but maybe they're still monitoring it. Maybe they kept it active in case someone tried to trace it back.
"Thank you," I say.
"You're welcome. Is that all?"
"Yeah. That's all."
He hangs up without saying goodbye. I guess that's just how he does things.
I update the group chat with everything, typing fast.
Sam: Got the texts. Someone arranged Victor's time off through his dispatcher, reserved hotel room, knew my name and his employer. Professional operation, not amateur hour.
Sam: Timeline - texts sent late August, right after Mom showed up to Maya's presser with organized parents. Before the Pennsylvania vote. This was retaliation for the CHALLENGE, not the loss.
Maggie: Jesus. That's petty even for villains.
Amelia: It's personal for Maya. Rachel didn't just oppose the legislation, she organized resistance. Made Maya look bad in public.
Lily: So Maya sent someone's grandfather to intimidate them? That's... cruel :(.
Sam: It's her pattern. Remember the T-Rex attack on my house? Mrs. Zenith was there, taunting me before it started. She uses psychological tactics, not just brute force.
Tasha: And she's the only one who makes sense. Kingdom mentioned Victor to you months ago. Only they would know to look for him. Only they would bother.
I stare at my notes, at the text messages Victor read to me, at the timeline laid out in front of me. It's all circumstantial. I can't prove Mrs. Zenith is Maya Richardson in court. I can't prove the Kingdom sent those texts. I can't even prove the number belongs to anyone specific.
But I know. Pattern recognition, motive analysis, process of elimination - it all points the same direction.
Sam: I think there's something else I should follow up on. Nina from our old therapy group - she works as a barback at Crescent. Bartenders hear things. Might be worth reaching out.
Maggie: Is that safe? If Crescent is a Kingdom front, talking to employees could tip them off.
Sam: I'll be careful. Make it about the mentorship program, not investigation. Just feeling out if she knows anything.
Lily: Sam. Don't do anything stupid.
Sam: When have I ever done anything stupid?
Tasha: Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically?
I close my laptop, looking around my bedroom. Somewhere in this city, Maya Richardson is sitting in her office, probably thinking she got away with everything. The body double at the senate hearing. The Daedalus breakout. Using my grandfather as a weapon against my mother.
She's wrong. I'm figuring it out. Piece by piece, thread by thread.
She'll dog-walk me right into her own noose.