The Law of Averages

The conversation between Dan and his friends had devolved into more of a late night get-together than the clandestine meeting it had started as. They'd moved outside the cars, Connor and Freya leaning against the cruiser's passenger side while Dan sat cross-legged on the hood. Gregoir had planted his ass above his car's wheel well, and his weight visibly shifted the car's alignment.

The little group shared a six pack of bottled Coke made with real sugar cane, that Gregoir had produced from the back of his Beetle. The existence of the soft drink in Dimension A was a balm to Dan's soul, and he greedily guzzled two bottles before his friends could finish their first. The conversation was light, mostly just to pass the time until the results of the raid came through.

Connor and Freya were technically on duty. The cruiser's radio occasionally piped up in the background, though the raid was set up on a separate channel. Gregoir was technically on call and held in reserve, but it wasn't expected that he'd be needed. The raid had all four of the APD's SPEAR teams committed to the task, and a score of patrol officers to run a perimeter once the operation was underway. One more person, Natural or not, shouldn't make a difference in the outcome.

Gregoir clearly felt differently, but was doing his best to hide it. The big blonde Viking fidgeted with nervous energy throughout the conversation, and his contributions seemed unusually bereft of enthusiasm. Dan knew the feeling well; it was the same thing he'd felt the past few days.

Useless, passive, inadequate, helpless.

Gregoir was handling it better than Dan had. Gregoir had chosen to hang out with his friends, rather than conduct a secret investigation and probably break the law multiple times. It seemed a more measured (and legal) response, though not nearly as cathartic. He could've been sneaking around on the edges of the raid, anxiously wringing his hands for an opportunity to be useful. Instead, he was having a drink with friends, doing his damnedest to relax.

Dan had to respect that about the man. Gregoir was far more sensible than anyone gave him credit for. He knew how to enjoy the little moments, even when something darker poked constantly at the back of his mind. It was something Dan needed to learn. Of course, the good times couldn't last.

It started with the radio squawking something incomprehensible. The door was closed, with the window just barely cracked so that they could hear any important announcements. Connor furrowed his brow, as several voices began to rapidly fire out coded alerts. Daniel didn't speak cop, so he couldn't make heads or tails of the mess of noise, but whatever it was got Connor and Freya up on their feet and moving. Freya jerked the passenger door open, while Connor vaulted over the roof, and ripped open the driver's side.

Gregoir's phone buzzed several times in fast succession, and the big man jerked it out of his pocket. His eyes nearly blurred as he read through the message, and he quickly began packing away their trash. His phone buzzed again, and he glanced down at it, his face turning grim.

"Something is happening," the older officer stated with certainty. "Something's gone wrong."

Dan opened his mouth to respond, but a sound cut him off. It was a high pitched wail, a long scream cutting across the entire city. An echoing shriek that sent chills down Dan's spine and goosebumps across his flesh. It was a sound he recognized; he heard it, occasionally, in his dreams.

For the second time in as many weeks, the villain siren rang out across Austin.

Gregoir was the first to react, seasoned public servant that he was. Instantly, he dashed towards his trunk, popping it open and unslinging an APD vest. He buckled it around his vast waist and turned to the group. Freya was frantically adjusting the radio, while Connor stuffed his keys into the cruiser's ignition.

"Officers Graham and Valentine, switch to emergency channel four and return to the station," Gregoir ordered, his voice as serious as Dan had ever heard him. "Wait there for further orders. Daniel, go home."

"Understood," Freya replied shortly, before the car roared into life. "What about you?"

"I have my own role to perform," Gregoir stated firmly, strapping his belt across his waist. The tactical vest and utility pouches clashed horribly with his Hawaiian shirt and jeans, but the big man seemed as determined as ever.

Dan raised his hand. "Should I—?"

"Go home!" all three interrupted before he could even offer to help.

"Yeah, okay," Dan replied meekly. "You know I'll probably be called in to help, right? Last I checked I was still licensed as a crisis volunteer."

"You'll be called in after the situation is known and the scene is secured," Gregoir corrected. "Go home, Daniel. Save your energy. I'm certain you'll need it."

Connor and Freya peeled out of the parking lot without further comment. Dan watched them go as Gregoir fished his badge out of his vest pocket. It dangled from a lanyard that he looped around his thick neck. The shiny gold badge and symbol of the APD sat snugly against Gregoir's sternum. The officer slammed his trunk shut, and climbed into the driver's seat.

As he started the vehicle, Dan leaned down to the window.

"Good luck," he offered. It was the only thing he had to give.

"I won't need it," Gregoir replied with certainty. He rolled up his window, started the car, and drove away.

Dan stood in the now abandoned parking lot for a few minutes just... taking in the situation. Not ten minutes ago, he was feeling relaxed, thinking that his worries were close to over. Now an entirely new set had been stirred up. How vexing.

His phone rang, and he snapped out of his reverie. Dan glanced at the screen.

Abby.

He answered.

"Hey Abs."

"Danny! Are you okay? Mama Ana just told me that the villain siren was going off in Austin!"

Dan checked his watch. "That was less than five minutes ago." Some damn impressive information Anastasia was privy too. He probably should've expected no less.

"She's been keeping an eye out for villain attacks," Abby replied in a hushed tone. "That's not the point. Are you okay!?"

"I'm fine," Dan reassured her. "Confused, but fine. I was with Connor, Freya, and Gregoir when it happened. They didn't seem to know any details. Gregoir said that the APD were raiding a Coldeyes safehouse."

"Is everyone alright?" she asked, empathy coloring her voice.

Dan shook his head. He had no answers for her.

"I don't know, Abby. I can't— I don't want to focus on things I can't do anything about. Did your grandmother say anything else?"

"Nothing helpful," Abby muttered mutinously. She's still trying to treat this like an early family reunion. Some of my idiot cousins are even buying into it. She's increased the security by at least three times, and that's only what I can see. Something big is happening."

"You said she's monitoring villain attacks?" Dan asked.

"Yeah. I took a peek at her files." Abby's voice dropped conspiratorially low. "Mama Ana is really old fashioned. She keeps a lot of paper copies of recent stuff in her wall safe, and I used my upgrade to copy the combination when she opened it this morning."

Dan blinked at that. It was awfully sneaky of Abby, going behind Anastasia's back like that, using her upgrade for nefarious purposes. Dan must be rubbing off on her. He wholeheartedly approved of this notion.

"So what else did you find?" he asked.

"Not much relevant," Abby muttered dejectedly. "She had a few FBI reports of villain attacks across the country covering the last week, some satellite pictures of barren desert, and a letter from the Nye County sheriff's office stating that they've noticed no suspicious activity anywhere in their jurisdiction."

"Nye County?" Dan repeated dumbly.

"It's in Nevada," Abby explained. "I don't get it, either. Maybe grandma's going senile?"

That seemed unlikely.

"Keep looking," Dan suggested. "I'm heading home. Whatever is going on here, I'm sure I'll be finding out soon."

"If Mama Ana finds anything else out, I'll let you know," Abby promised. "Stay safe, Danny."

"Always."

He reappeared in his room, and immediately began to change. He could get the call at any moment, and he wanted to be ready. He pulled out his duffel bag, and checked over the contents, then blinked down to his living room. He turned on the television, and began to flip through the local news channels.

They were all scrambling for answers. Dan watched the eerily beautiful casters speculate wildly for nearly five minutes before a live video popped up on screen. 'Breaking News' was emblazoned under the choppy footage, clearly filmed by amateur hands. It was bouncy and out of focus, the cameraman appeared to be running away, but the screen paused as it landed on a small, pixellated splash of ocean... sitting in the center of the city.

Dan squinted.

No.

Not small, just distant.

Not ocean.

Ice.