5.

“Son of a bitch. I do not want to do the paperwork on this,” June said, staring at the empty spots with a furrowed brow and slight sneer.

“You seem to be taking the theft of such important items surprisingly well,” I noted.

“That’s because they can’t be stolen. I mean, yeah, people can take them away from us, but those things have destiny wound around them. Wherever they end up, that’s where they’re meant to be. It’s why we take them out every now and then: keeps them in circulation so there isn’t a need for a jailbreak.”

“So Krystal told me. Does that mean we don’t need to retrieve them?”

“Are you brain-dead on top of being normal-dead? Of course we have to retrieve them. Until they’re officially claimed, those things are Agency property. If I admit to losing three of them to some sticky-fingered jerk, then I’m going to get a massive earful. And so will Krys, for that matter.”

On cue, Krystal came treading back over, Bubba in tow. “I had to crack one of those dipshits in the back of the head, but I got the spell stopped before it did too much damage. Maintenance says they can have the lights fixed in about an hour, so overall, not my worst headache at one of these things.” She stopped talking and noted both of our somber expressions. “Why do you two look like someone pissed in your cereal?”

“There may have been a very slight misplacement of three of our specialty items during the blackout,” June admitted.

Krystal’s eyes wandered over to the display, where she found the same triple gap we’d previously observed. “Really? Fucking really? We were gone for five minutes, tops, and someone got away with three of those damned things?” She looked over at the two of us, and we both shrank back under her fierce gaze. “Do we at least have any leads? Sight, smell, something?”

“Too many parahumans moving around with unique scents,” Bubba said. “Even if you had something to smell that you were sure was the thief’s, you’d need a master tracker to find them in here.”

“I caught sight of someone scampering away in the dark,” I said, keeping my voice respectfully low. “There’s no way to be certain it was the thief, but they were moving through the darkness like they’d expected it.”

“Not a bad plan, actually,” Bubba said. “Rile up some mages, get them to create a distraction, and then sneak by and grab stuff from right under an agent’s nose.”

June bristled visibly at his observation, but she had no real comeback for it. The items were gone, and she’d been the one on guard. Like or lump it: Bubba was right.

“Right, first things first. We have to put the rest of these things away now,” Krystal said. “Having our weapons stolen is bad enough, but if people figure it out, we’re in for way more shit from the home office.”

“Why does that matter more?” I asked.

“Image, reputation, call it what you want. Part of the Agency’s power comes from the fear we instill. We are the nightmare of parahumans, and it needs to stay that way. Agents need to be seen as flawless, unstoppable beings, because that sort of reputation allows us to end a lot of conflicts before they start. If we can find the items before word gets out that they were stolen, then we can keep things civil. However, if it becomes known that someone stole from the Agency, we’ll have no choice but to make an example of them. A very brutal one, at that,” June said.

“I really just meant that I didn’t want to get bitched out, but June isn’t totally off base,” Krystal admitted. “For the thief’s sake as much as ours, we need to get those weapons back.” She paused to look at the display once more. “By my count, we’re missing The Axe of Withering Trees, The Sword of the Furious Sun, and The Blade of the Unlikely Champion. None of those will be easy to conceal, so our thief’s best option to stash them. That leaves us a two-pronged approach: one team hunts the thief, while the other searches for the weapons.”

“Let me track our culprit,” June volunteered immediately. “This fool slighted my honor as an agent; I wish for the chance to redeem myself. Besides, I’m more gifted in terms of hunting prey.”

“Can’t argue with you there; you’re the right fit for thief duty.” Krystal looked at Bubba and me, a slightly worried expression drawing across her face. “Freddy, you’re the only one who has actually caught a glimpse of this person. That means you should probably be on the hunting team too.”

The way she structured her statement, she was clearly giving me the chance to object or raise some reason why I would be a bad fit. Krystal realized that pairing me with June made the most sense; however, she respected my feelings enough to give me an out. I greatly appreciated the gesture, but I couldn’t very well take an easier path just because June made me uncomfortable. It wouldn’t be right, and after seeing June move, I felt confident she could handle any threat we might encounter.

“I agree, June and I will try and find the thief.”

“Good call. Bubba and I will pack up the rest of the weapons and get them somewhere safe, then start scouring the hall for any signs of the hidden merchandise.” Krystal reached behind the counter of the booth and produced a small sign that read “Back in 5 minutes.” She plunked it onto the center of the table. “The convention opens officially at ten, which is when we need to be on duty. That gives us a little under two hours to hunt this douchewad down before our manpower gets halved. At that point, we’ll also have to report the theft to the home office.”

“So soon?” June said, her eyes widening considerably. “We could at least wait until the end of the day.”

“No, that axe is way too powerful to lose. Even if we catch hell for it, we’ll need to call in a full team to sweep the place. It will probably ruin the con for everyone, but there’s no other choice. So, let’s make these next two hours count.” Krystal grabbed a handful of the remaining weapons and began piling them into their former duffel bag, which she’d yanked out from under the display.

June grabbed my shoulder and jerked me forward. “You heard her, we’re on a clock. Which way did you see our thief going?”

“Toward the north entrance.” I pointed in the direction I’d last seen the strangely waddling figure dart off. It was thick with bodies already, making even seeing to the end of the aisle a difficult task.

“Figures they’d go toward the most crowded part,” June snapped. “All right, Fred, stay close and don’t fall behind. When I start hunting something, I lose track of everything else. Lose me, and there’s no way of knowing when I’ll realize you’re gone.”

With that, June hurtled forward, darting gracefully down the aisle, nimbly weaving between the various parahumans like a ballet dancer gliding between raindrops.

I might have been more inclined to appreciate the aesthetic appeal, if I hadn’t been tasked with following such a display. Instead, I awkwardly bustled my way through the crowd with hurried apologies.