All estimates aren't in yet, but we've been told the damage is in the ballpark of seven hundred million and counting. Not to mention the lives lost.
"Hey, LeBlanc."
He glanced over as Jett sat at the bar beside him, motioning to Kermit for a Horse Piss Lager. Kermit grunted and slid one over.
LeBlanc smiled. "Well, well. Looks like you survived the night."
Jett shrugged. "Stayed out the way of things. Figured it would blow over."
"Funny — same thing I thought. And here we are, back to normal."
"Yeah. Back to normal." They clinked bottles and got to drinking.
"I ever tell you about my daughter, Jett?"
"Don't think you have."
"Her name's Deborah. Lil' Debbie is what I call her. She's my life. Bright as can be. A lot smarter than her old man. Way prettier, too."
They shared a chuckle.
"Her mom passed a year after she was born. Had cancer. Couldn't afford the cure. You know how it is. Left Debbie and me to ourselves. I tried the best I could to take care of her. Took a lot of jobs to keep a suitable roof over her head, food on the table, toys in her hand. Got into some business I shouldn't have. Led to questions I didn't need to ask. Mortals don't need to tread in the orbit of angels if you know what I mean."
We've been told that many of deceased appear to be individuals associated with different gangs. Some of the evidence points to execution-style killings. Were the riots a cover for a full-blown gang war? Or was there something else afoot?
Jett kept his eyes on the screen. "Angels. Yeah, I know what you mean."
"I was warned. To back off, let things alone. But I was too into it at that point. Invested, you know? So I kept digging. And then something happened."
"They came for your daughter."
"In a way of speaking. She won the lottery. Got her a one-way trip to the Haven."
"Wait, isn't that a good thing?"
"Like going to heaven, they say. Thing was — I never put her name up. Why would I? We were all we had. I'd never intentionally separate us, not even for a chance of a lifetime."
Jett lowered his voice. "So, this investigation of yours. It ended up involving business of the Haven? And you think your daughter's win was retaliation?"
LeBlanc's eyes blurred when he nodded. "Haven't heard anything since. I'm completely in the dark. It's like she just vanished. No telling what's she's been through. Or if she's even alive. She's just… missing."
He took a long swig of beer and cleared his throat. "Guess I'm saying, if you ever come across any pertinent information on your new job, feel free to pass it on. I'll consider it payback for the work I did."
Jett's eyes slid in LeBlanc's direction. "What new job are you talking about?"
Even stranger are reports of a man taking down rioters and gang members in acts of alleged vigilantism. Eyewitness accounts are sketchy, but many have provided details that match the appearance and methods of Vigil, whose last known appearance was nearly two decades ago.
LeBlanc grinned as the report went on. "I'm talking about your new role as project manager for the Youth Haven, of course."
"I didn't know anyone knew about that."
"Well, it's not common knowledge. I just got ways of putting two and two together."
"Well, I hope you're not planning on spreading the news around. I'd rather keep a low profile if you know what I mean."
"I know exactly what you mean, brother. Don't worry, your secret's safe with ol' LeBlanc. And if you ever need a hand with anything, you can count on me. I mean that."
A small smile touched Jett's lips. "I just might take you up on that, LeBlanc."
Kermit frowned in their direction. "You girls gonna order another drink or keep whispering in each other's ears? This here's a bar, not some couple's lounge."
LeBlanc pulled out a smoke and lit it. "Keep that up and you'll scare all your customers away, my man. Not that you have any to scare off."
"You can go to hell, LeBlanc. You ordering or not?"
"Slide me another lager, brother. One for my bud, too. On me."
Jett stood up, patting LeBlanc on the shoulder. "Next time. I gotta check in on someone. See you around."
"Definitely." LeBlanc picked up a bottle and drank, watching the news. And thinking about his little girl.
"Don't wanna." Mira's jaw clenched as she assumed a stance of pure stubbornness: fists on hips, one foot planted forward. "I have to take care of my sister. You can't make me stay here."
Jett sighed. "You're really embarrassing me here, Mira. I told you that you're in danger. No need to think you're safe just because the hit squad was taken out."
"You want to put me away because you don't wanna be bothered." Mira's face was still set in a furious glare, but a tear slid down her cheek. "You think I'll tell everyone about your secret identity."
Jett glanced over at Qhawa for help. She raised a bemused eyebrow in return. They were in a safehouse she secured, somewhere in Manhaven. The room was small but comfortable, furnished with real wooden furniture. The scent of lemongrass hung in the air.
Qhawa padded on bare feet, circling Mira with her hands clasped behind her back. In her voluminous rose-patterned robes, she looked every inch the mysterious mentor. "I remember being your age, Mira. I was homeless and alone, no parents to remember. No plans for any kind of future, only the streets and the violence that came with them. A man helped me then, just as Jett is helping you now. His name was Wayne Thomas."
Mira gave her a cautious glance. "So?"
"He had another name. Another life. And in time he allowed me to become a part of it."
Jett raised a hand. "Listen, I don't think this is the time—"
Qhawa ignored him, focusing her gaze on Mira. "His other name was Vigil. His other life was fighting criminals and evildoers." She glanced at Jett. "Just as he does."
Mira's eye's widened. "You were his partner?"
"Yes. I took the name Viper and aided him when he needed it."
"Really? That's ace. And you'll teach me to do what you did?"
"I will teach you to survive, Mira. What you do with those skills will be up to you. And him."
Mira turned to Jett with the widest smile he'd ever seen. "Did you hear that, Jett? We're gonna be partners!"
He shook his head. "That's not what she said. Besides, I'm not looking for a partner." He glared at Qhawa, who answered with a diffident shrug before fixing Mira with a stern look.
"The first part of our education is obedience. So go to your quarters, shower and prepare for bed. We will begin your training tomorrow."
"Yes, Qhawa."
Jett watched in shock as she obediently left the room, although she did pause to stick her tongue out at him before rounding the corner. He turned to Qhawa.
"Have you lost your mind? I thought you were going to help."
"I am helping."
"By filling her head with delusions? She can't be my partner. Her life will be in danger."
"I never said she was to be your partner. And you put her life in danger the moment you pulled her into your world, Jett. This is all your doing, remember? My job is to teach her how to say alive. So if you didn't want her to be a part of Vigil's life, you never should have brought her to me."
Jett opened his mouth, then thought better of it. She's right. There's no other option other than trying to get Mira entirely out of the city. With all the spying eyes, he doubted that she'd make it very far.
"How are you doing, Jett?"
"Fine, I guess."
"You lie. You came face to face with your past, and it haunts you still. I see it in your eyes."
He found it hard to meet her penetrating gaze. "Yeah, it shook me. Seeing them again, seeing her face after all this time… it was hard."