Chicago, IL - The Chicago Police Department has set up a dedicated Siege crisis hotline. Residents who experience an act of violence, witness a crime, or have any pertinent information regarding Siege or the Anti-Heroes are encouraged to call the 800 number or tweet at @ChicagoPDSiegeHotline. At this time, it is not recommended to contact Warrior Nation if you are in immediate danger.
Due to a large volume of calls, a law enforcement professional will get back to each message within 24 hours. A list of safe houses can be found online.
TEDDY’S THE BAD GUY…. NOW ROY’S THE BAD GUY? I just want to know…who is hurting the heroes?
I didn’t think saving the day would be so hard. And okay, maybe that’s stupid to admit: Obviously I understand that the heroes do a lot of work. But all my years of studying Warrior Nation have come with the blessing of hindsight. I’ve never had to piece together what really happened during a crime; all I had to do was read the recaps, and yeah, everything seems obvious when you have the final result. Even on debate team, it’s pretty rare that opponents throw me for a loop, since I work to anticipate every angle on every topic. But this—this—is almost more than my admittedly sizable brain can handle. I was SURE Teddy was Siege, but now? I wouldn’t be able to confidently argue that stance.
“I wish they would give it a rest with this red lighting,” Bridgette says as we walk toward the cafeteria, looking up at the scarlet bulbs overhead. “I feel like I’m being drenched in pig’s blood.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely adding to the ‘you’re all guilty’ vibe,” I add, looking down at my ruby-lit palms. “I mean, I get that they want to catch someone red-handed, but this is overkill.” Bridgette says nothing, marching forward with total determination. “Hey, um, Bridgette? I’m sorry I wasted our time accusing Teddy. I really thought he could be Siege.”
She stops, startled by my apology. “You don’t need to be sorry. He still could be guilty. We can only trust each other at this point, okay? And Matt. Whatever he left behind on that paper will guide us to the truth.”
Right, she’s right. Blue Streak would never apologize. I shouldn’t either.
While most of HQ has turned into a desolate wasteland of empty corridors and people hiding in their offices, the cafeteria is apparently the place to be, with employees scattered at every table, staring sadly at their cherry-red plates. Great, how are we supposed to deface a piece of art when everyone in the organization has gathered for the saddest mealtime ever?
“Well, this is…unexpected,” Bridgette sighs, looking around the room. Even though there are lots of people in here, the space is silent, distrust making everyone wary. A few somber eyes look up at her, recognition bending their lips in sympathy. Some shift in their seats, wanting to get up and offer condolences over Matt’s video, but their worry over making a wrong move keeps them glued to their chairs. “Okay, how about this: I’ll distract everyone by making some remarks about Matt while you climb up and grab the purple paper.”
Seems easy enough. “Sure. It’s in Blue Streak’s cape, right?”
“Yeah, you can’t miss it.”
I break from her side as she clears her throat, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. “Hello, my friends,” she starts as I tiptoe toward the back wall. “I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done to try and fight Siege and bring the heroes home.”
With all eyes glued on Bridgette, I slide a chair underneath Blue Streak’s section of the massive mural, taking my first close-up view of this impressive installation. Wow, I never realized how involved this piece truly is, with thousands of tiny paper scraps expertly layered together to create the illusion of motion while standing still. I run my fingers over the shapes, surprised by their delicate texture. I can’t even imagine starting a project like this, let alone executing it to this level of perfection. How in the world did Bridgette do this?
“I’m sure you all were as disturbed by Matt’s video as I was,” she continues, keeping her silent audience captivated. “None of us have ever been in a situation like this before.”
I scan Blue Streak’s paper cape, but the reality of this hunt strikes fear in my heart: All these colors look practically the same! Dark blue, navy blue, royal blue—I’m not seeing purple