"Pfft..."
"..."
Locke let out a brief cough, pressing his lips together as he redirected his gaze toward Ms. Patty Finn, who was staring at him with a highly critical eye. He spoke in a low, measured tone,
"I simply recalled a highly joyous occasion, and I found myself unable to suppress the reaction."
"A joyous occasion?"
"Yes. A professional associate of mine successfully brought a newborn into the world yesterday."
"I fail to see how that warrants—"
"A premature delivery at seven months. Both mother and daughter are in flawless physical condition."
"..."
Patty's jaw dropped slightly before she decisively determined to abandon the conversational thread. Instead, she refocused her attention on the digital tablet, tracking the onscreen movements of George, who also appeared to have identified an anomaly in the operational theater.
...
Down at the Manhattan Port terminal.
George stood before the silver Audi R8, his brows tightly knit as he observed the dark-spectacled operator stepping out with his hands elevated.
Something was deeply wrong.
Though this specific iteration of the Peerless Assassin presented a physical height and choice of attire remarkably consistent with the profile he had been tracking...
*Thud!*
Two tactical officers advanced cautiously behind the target's perimeter, executing a swift containment maneuver. Slamming the individual firmly against the hood of the vehicle, they snapped a pair of high-tensile steel handcuffs around his wrists with a heavy click.
Witnessing the sequence unfold in real time, the media crews who had swarmed the sector to establish live field feeds experienced a surge of absolute corporate ecstasy.
The Peerless Assassin had fallen into the net.
The elusive vigilante had finally overextended his operational parameters, falling directly into the custody of the NYPD.
Good heavens!
This absolute bombshell of an event was guaranteed to occupy the front page of every major print publication in New York City tomorrow morning.
Several journalists were already frantically activating their tablets, their creative engines firing on all cylinders as they initiated the drafting phase of their exclusive breaking reports.
George, however, displayed zero emotional elevation as he strode up to the contained individual pinned against the sports car. Maintaining a perfectly expressionless countenance, he extended his right hand and smoothly stripped the dark sunglasses from the operator's face.
The next split second.
Beckett and Jason, who had trailed closely behind George's advance, caught a clear view of the facial structure exposed beneath the lenses. Their brows creased in unison.
Marcus, a fellow resident of the Redbud community who had accompanied the operational units to the pier, stared at the restrained individual in absolute shock, his voice slipping out in a stunned gasp.
"Holy shit... Clyde? How on earth is it you?"
Pinned firmly against the chassis by the two tactical operators, Clyde Shelton offered a polite nod toward his neighbor Marcus by way of greeting. Turning his focus back toward George, he let out a soft, dry laugh.
"I simply consumed a minor quantity of alcohol this evening, Captain. I hardly believe this scale of a tactical deployment is standard procedure for a suspected DUI."
Naturally.
His narrative was perfectly simple: he merely desired to evade an automated roadside sobriety checkpoint, choosing to execute a high-speed flight path to avoid administrative penalties.
He had never anticipated...
The NYPD's current enforcement protocols regarding driving under the influence had achieved such a rigorous standard.
He certainly hadn't intercepted the intelligence that the Peerless Assassin had preempted his own operational timeline by extracting Nick Rice first, nor had he intentionally assumed the assassin's physical identity to systematically misdirect the department's resources away from the true asset.
No such variable existed within his calculations.
His background parameters and civic history verified a single, absolute reality: he was a completely law-abiding citizen.
Clyde's smile remained entirely pure. In fact, as he delivered the statement, a distinct aroma of alcohol radiated from his breath, serving as flawless empirical corroboration for his narrative.
George maintained a stony, unblinking gaze on Clyde.
A long silence stretched between them.
After a prolonged pause, George spoke in a flat octave,
"The judicial system of this state functions strictly on empirical evidence."
Clyde straightened his posture slightly, meeting George's eyes with a subtle smile.
"Are you directing that realization toward my department, Captain?"
'I am Central Intelligence!'
'Within our theater, operational intuition consistently overrides empirical data.'
Had the Peerless Assassin not executed his extraction timeline with such precise velocity, Clyde would have personally bound and extracted that specific piece of human refuse himself.
If intelligence operatives conditioned their tactical maneuvers strictly upon the collection of legally admissible evidence, the terrestrial realm would have experienced total structural annihilation at least seventeen times over by now.
George took a deep, stabilizing breath, staring intently into Clyde's eyes before closing his own.
"Extract him from the sector."
Acting in his capacity as Clyde's direct neighbor, Marcus stepped forward to receive custody of the asset from the tactical officers.
"I will oversee his transit to the precinct. By the way, do we require an immediate notification to Miller?"
Clyde let out a hearty laugh.
"I would advise against it. My defense council has already been fully brief on the contingencies."
Even under the statutory definition of felony evasion originating from a DUI checkpoint, the maximum judicial penalty wouldn't exceed a baseline period of mandatory community service.
It was a minor administrative inconvenience.
Furthermore, he possessed substantial financial assets; he was fully capable of processing his intake booking and executing a clean cash bail release within the exact same calendar day.
...
Beckett and Jason slowly processed the realization. They were looking at yet another voluntary auxiliary asset aligned with the Peerless Assassin—an individual executing an independent misdirection protocol, perfectly mirroring the historical precedent established during the saga of Barry the narcotics distributor.
*Hiss!*
Jason drew a sharp breath between his teeth.
"The structural precision of his methodology is terrifying."
Every single gear locked perfectly into the next.
The Peerless Assassin had initiated the sequence by intentionally exposing his profile, drawing the entire weight of the department toward Nick Rice's apartment complex.
By ensuring the discovery of the secondary corpse, he guaranteed that Nick Rice would realize his exposure and attempt to flee, systematically clearing the civilian board.
Simultaneously, the assassin maintained the flawless illusion that he remained entrenched inside the apartment cordon, utilizing that window to intercept and secure Nick Rice at the secondary destination.
Following that.
He had accurately calculated the manifestation of an autonomous ally, who executed a textbook high-speed diversion to shatter their command focus. By this exact timeline, the true Peerless Assassin had likely escorted Nick Rice past the municipal boundary... no, past the state line entirely.
Beckett turned her focus toward George, who remained standing motionless on the asphalt with his eyes closed.
"George, what is our next operational vector?"
George asked flatly, "Verify the chronological metric."
Beckett checked her tactical watch. "Precisely ten minutes remaining before 8:30."
George snapped his eyes open.
His professional resolve...
Began to burn with a renewed ferocity.
A full ten minutes remained before the exclusive segment of *Exploring the Mysterious* went live according to the terms of the notice. An operational window still existed.
'I will personal secure you in custody, assassin.'
Filled with intense momentum, George extracted his communication device and initiated a direct patch back to the Department of Homeland Security.
The line connected almost instantly.
George spoke without preamble, "Permit the broadcast uplink to proceed. I am completely certain your command structure has already engineered a secondary contingency protocol designed to mitigate the systemic impact once the live transmission inevitably clears your firewalls."
This required zero analytical deduction.
Following the historical incident where Barry the distributor transformed into a massive rodent, the Department of Homeland Security had systematically organized an immediate, flawless counter-narrative campaign.
They had gone so far as to retain elite Hollywood directors to deliver comprehensive technical explanations regarding advanced CGI overlays. It was blindingly obvious.
This wasn't their first iteration managing anomalous data leaks.
On the other end of the line, Commander Victoria Hand didn't provide a direct verification. Instead, she creased her brows, her voice dropping.
"Senior Captain Stacy, you should be fully cognizant of the scale of systemic authority we can mobilize to preserve global information security."
George marched back toward his command interceptor. "I am fully cognizant of your authority, Director. I am also entirely certain that your technological divisions possess zero methodology capable of compromising this specific live broadcast stream."
"Our teams executed a successful network suppression during the previous cycle."
"That suppression manifested *after* the primary content had already achieved public transmission."
George slid into the operator's seat, twisting the ignition as he spoke firmly.
"The Peerless Assassin invested an immense quantity of operational planning into tonight's sequence—utilizing pre-calculated feints and leveraging autonomous civilian assets to fragment our deployment. Do you truly believe an entity of that caliber would leave a massive infrastructure vulnerability, permitting us to simply terminate his stream at the source?"
"What is your tactical recommendation?"
"Authorize the transmission to initialize, then systematically trace the signal origin to its absolute physical coordinates."
"His stated agenda for this cycle involves a live transmission detailing the infernal architecture."
"Your agency successfully re-categorized a coven of authentic witches into a high-tier stage magic exhibition. Re-branding the underworld under a similar narrative structure should present a minor logistical hurdle, wouldn't you agree? More importantly... is your organization genuinely devoid of curiosity regarding the parameters of Hell?"
"...Are you formally conceding the field, Captain?"
Commander Hand remained silent for a brief interval before leaning back into her command chair.
"Had this port diversion not manifested, you would never entertain a tactical shift of this nature, Stacy."
George shook his head firmly.
"Negative. My absolute resolve to secure the Peerless Assassin under the rule of law remains entirely unaltered. However, while he remains a criminal asset, he cannot be categorized alongside conventional contract killers or standard serial offenders. Apprehending a target of this classification requires us to abandon standard municipal methodology."
The incident with Barry was the first data point.
Tonight represented the definitive confirmation.
A conventional serial offender consistently selects innocent civilian demographics as their primary target, a parameter that prevents them from extracting genuine empathy from the broader public.
The Peerless Assassin operated on an entirely different plane.
The targets selected for his execution notices were universally devoid of innocence. At the very least, within the internal calculus of a significant portion of the populace, those individuals deserved their Deaths; it was viewed as a righteous consequence.
Consequently, during the Barry incident, a massive cross-section of the NYPD corporate structure maintained a tacit, unspoken consensus to facilitate his movement.
Tonight, Clyde Shelton had voluntarily stepped into the fray to provide an operational buffer.
George said in a low tone, "When confronting an adversary who commands that tier of systemic support, our baseline municipal capture protocols are entirely obsolete."
Commander Hand elevated an eyebrow. "Do you possess a specialized alternative blueprint, Captain Stacy?"
"Not at this exact juncture."
"..."
"But I will formulate one."
George's professional drive was firing on all cylinders. Throughout his decades of law enforcement service, zero criminal assets had ever successfully slipped his grasp permanently. No such precedent existed in his past, and no such precedent would manifest in his future.
"I will distribute my personnel across every single sector of the New York municipal grid. The precise millisecond your technical teams isolate the signal origin telemetry, route the coordinates directly to my unit."
With that.
George terminated the line, leaving Victoria Hand zero opportunity to mount an administrative refusal.
...
Inside the abandoned New Jersey water treatment facility.
Locke observed the media helicopters slowly panning away from the Manhattan Port terminal on his digital display, shaking his head with a trace of silent amusement.
On one hand, he felt a genuine touch of philosophical appreciation—a classic confirmation of the old adage that a just cause naturally enjoys abundant support.
On the other hand, listening to the tactical dialogue between George and S.H.I.E.L.D. left him somewhat speechless.
He hadn't executed a direct wiretap against George's personal smartphone encrypted line.
After all, George was an absolute professional within his theater; if an active digital intercept was implemented against his personal receiver, the captain would have detected the anomaly immediately.
Locke had simply compromised George's command vehicle.
He utilized a specialized S.H.I.E.L.D. monitoring device salvaged from their previous encounter with his asset. Following a minor internal re-engineering process, Locke had casually attached the hardware directly beneath the driver's seat cushioning.
The audio feed he had just processed was being intercepted in real time by his clone stationed back at the penthouse.
Locke genuinely desired to inform George that his analytical deduction was entirely an exercise in over-engineering. He had never formulated that scale of complex tactical plotting; or more accurately, even if he possessed the capacity to execute such schemes, his baseline strength rendered them completely redundant.
'Absolute force overrides all intricate strategy.'
Locke recognized that his current tier of baseline power was fully capable of shattering seventy percent of any defensive plots or security measures on earth. Given that reality, he simply lacked the inclination to engage in tedious, low-tier tactical maneuvering.
Though... this outcome was entirely acceptable.
It preserved his operational focus. It meant that during the impending live segment, he wouldn't need to divide his attention between maintaining optimal network viewership metrics and conducting a high-intensity cyber warfare engagement against S.H.I.E.L.D.'s elite technological assets.
Standing beside him, Ms. Patty Finn withdrew her gaze from the tablet, letting out a quiet sigh.
"I expect George is experiencing an immense degree of professional anger toward my person right now."
Locke pulled his focus back, directing a smooth look toward Patty.
Experiencing anger was the statistically correct response.
If George failed to harbor resentment toward her actions and maintained a flawless personal rapport with her, it could create highly complex structural friction down the line. To put it transparently, should a major operational conflict manifest in the future, Locke genuinely wouldn't know which side of the board to align himself with.
His domestic partner was Gwen.
However, his internal assessment indicated that a substantial number of future high-influence system objectives would require direct synchronization with Ms. Patty Finn's broadcast apparatus to minimize his need to constantly sprint across the globe to manufacture media influence.
Consequently...
Should an event manifest where George executed an incorrect operational maneuver, would he be required to stand alongside Gwen as her partner, or would he be obligated to assume the mantle of the Peerless Assassin to preserve Ms. Patty Finn's infrastructure?
***
Aight we hit 300 stones today. If we hit 500 before weekly reset I'll post 3 more bonuses.
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***
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