They escaped. Damn it, they escaped.
We got to the police station and got in fine enough, they let us give some interviews to the two we wanted to, Graphique and Silver Stiletto. They did warn me not to touch Graphique, but I made sure they knew I wasn’t going to be interviewing her.
So while Moonshine was talking with Graphique, I was talking with Silver Stiletto. I’ve never had real personal time with her (although you couldn’t really call what I’ve had with Graphique “personal time” either). She seems to be Italian or something. That’s not really relevant.
Her face had been covered by a lacy black mask while she was doing the deeds with Graphique and Socialighter, but she didn’t have that anymore, so I could see her full face. The police hadn’t identified any of them yet, although O’Hanlon did seem awfully flighty about who they were. Silver Stiletto’s face was naggingly familiar to me. Maybe all three of them were. I’d only ever seen the bottom halves up to then.
She was still in her “supervillain” clothes. Black and silver. More or less a black catsuit with all these little silver designs on it and silver stilettos on her feet – pretty much where she gets the name from – though she’d long since taken them off and was now barefoot, her nails painted silver to boot. The mask had had some of the same silver spiraling designs on it, but it was now gone too.
She refused to give me her name. I guess that’s pretty common. She seemed scared but it didn’t reach her eyes, so I’m pretty sure she was faking it. She did still seem a bit woozy from the concussion, though. She gave me barely more information than Graphique did the other night, but I managed to get one thing out of her: a connection to the Frontiersman.
As you may or may not know, the Frontiersman is a shuttle that crashed a month or so ago. It was supposed to be the first-ever manned mission to Mars, launching at the start of the end of the world. But it exploded in mid-atmosphere and crashed somewhere in northern Idaho. The wreckage was found, but missing half the parts that were presumed to be burned up in the explosion or the atmosphere, including the fuel tanks, of which there were several.
Moonshine’s father worked on that shuttle. He’s a genius like that.
As for what connection Graphique’s trio – which Silver Stiletto calls “the Model Trinity” – has to the crash of the first manned mission to Mars, I couldn’t figure out. All she said was “It was the Frontiersman. That’s why we do it.”
Then they escaped.
It didn’t really happen that soon after she said the mysterious thing. But it happened pretty fast. There were alarms and everything. The power went out soon after and Graphique, in full costume, came on by and ripped the cell open. The place doesn’t have very many guards, being a smallish temporary lock-up, so she didn’t have to put up much of a fight to get out.
I tackled her, of course, but Silver Stiletto got me from behind and threw me up against the empty bunk. Then they left with Socialighter in tow. By the time I’d recovered, they were gone and the power was back up.
I went to find Moonshine and found her on the ground with blood on her hands. She’d been knocked against the corner of the bunk, I guess, the blood coming from her head. She healed pretty quick but had still been too woozy from the shock of having her skull cracked open to go after the so-called Model Trinity.
We went after them, in the process learning that the police blamed us for helping them escape. I don’t really blame them in general, but Commissioner O’Hanlon? I thought he and I trusted each other.
I guess not. They’ve been chasing after us all night. Moonshine and I have been running all over town, chasing after the Trinity and being chased by the police. We found them once, but it was a trap. They escaped while we were trying to get out.
And if that weren’t bad enough, we ran pretty much afoul, as it were, of some of the very drug traffickers we were going to start tracking again tonight or tomorrow. We had been following the Trinity’s trail at the time and it led us straight to a group of them. They were in the same model of car as the one from the drive-by several weeks ago, so I’m pretty sure they were related. And with the trail leading us straight to them, it’s only sane to say that the Trinity’s definitely related too.
And since we had lost the police by that time, we had no backup.
So, what are two young girls, facing a half dozen mean old men with guns alone and with no backup, to do? Fight like hell.
And we did. Until I got fucking shot in the stomach. That shit hurt like nothing I’ve felt before. I’ve been grazed before, but I’ve never been outright shot before. That definitely wasn’t a flesh wound.
Moonshine had no choice; she flew me out, trying not to get shot herself, and back to headquarters. We’d only been on the ground before because we were still looking for the Trinity, as well as outrunning the police. We certainly didn’t forget we could fly in the panic of running from the police and all. That would be ridiculous.
She managed to outrun the bullets or whatever and take me back to headquarters. There, she pulled out some fancy gadget whatevers of hers and healed me or something. I don’t really care what she did to me, she could’ve beat me three ways from Sunday and I wouldn’t have cared, as long as it took the pain away. It healed me and took the pain away. The outfit I wear can apparently heal itself, too, so that’s good. Not even a bullet hole. There is a nasty bloodstain it. And I probably won’t get over the shock of the pain any time soon.
We’re not staying here long. We have to get back out and find a way to clear our names with the police, on top of finding out who exactly the Trinity is, what their involvement with the gang is, who exactly is behind the gang, and what the whole deal with the Frontiersman even is.
Busy day and a half.