Chapter 479 - 221: Luna
For the workers of Pittsburgh, the morning always came too soon.
Luna stood in the narrow kitchen, the stainless-steel milk pan on the gas stove hissing softly.
She turned off the flame and expertly poured the hot milk into a cup decorated with a cartoon dinosaur.
It was breakfast for her four-year-old son, Jimmy.
Heavy snores echoed from the bedroom behind her.
Her husband, Jim, had just gotten back from his night shift. He’d collapsed into bed without even taking off his work clothes.
His feet, sticking out from under the covers, were caked with grease and dirt.
Before, Luna would have complained about Jim getting the sheets dirty.
But now, looking at the grime, all she felt was a sense of security.
Six months ago, Jim had been unemployed, spending his days staring blankly at the TV. The house then had been as clean as a morgue, its silence maddening.
It was a little dirtier now, but this was what it meant to be alive.
Luna turned, walked into the bathroom, and began to change.
She shed her pajamas and pulled on a set of dark-blue coveralls.
The fabric was thick and durable. Across the chest, printed in white, were the words "Pittsburgh Revival Project - Phase II," with a smaller line below it: Trained Technician 0495.
She stood before the mirror, tucking her long hair into her hard hat, then zipped up the front all the way to her chin.
The outfit did nothing for her figure; it was even a bit bulky.
But in Luna’s eyes, it was more beautiful than any Chanel suit she had seen in a department store window in her youth.
Before, a married woman with no education like her could only find work washing dishes at a fast-food joint or cleaning rooms at a motel.
Those jobs were endless and undignified, filled with nothing but the shouts of a supervisor and the disdainful looks from customers.
It was Leo Wallace who changed all that.
The young Mayor had set up a training center that specifically taught people how to handle the big machines.
Luna had signed up. Though Jim had laughed at her for it at first, she gritted her teeth and stuck with it.
Now, she was a tower crane ground signal systems operator.
With a walkie-talkie in hand, she directed tens of tons of steel as they danced through the air.
That sense of control made her feel like a part of the city’s very heart.
"Mommy, are you going to drive the big crane?"
Jimmy appeared at the kitchen doorway, rubbing his eyes.
"I am." Luna knelt and kissed her son’s forehead. "You be a good boy at home, and don’t wake up Daddy."
She picked up the hard hat from the table, pushed the door open, and walked out.
...
「Six-thirty in the morning, at the construction site cafeteria for Phase II of the Revival Project.」
The place was already buzzing with activity.
The air was thick with the aroma of coffee and the greasy smell of frying bacon and eggs.
Hundreds of workers were packed into the enormous prefabricated building, chewing their food and gulping down hot drinks.
But the atmosphere today was a little different.
Usually, at this hour, everyone would be talking about last night’s game or complaining about the weather.
Though the cafeteria was noisy today, everyone seemed to be keeping their voices down.
Luna, holding her tray, squeezed her way to the long table where she usually sat.
A few of the older crew members were huddled together, talking in hushed, secretive tones.
"Hey, Luna. Morning."
George, the old welder sitting across from her, greeted her before leaning forward.
"Have you heard? They say Batman is right here among us."
"Batman?" Luna paused for a second, then it clicked. "You mean... the young man who put a bullet in that insurance CEO?"
"SHH! Keep your voice down!"
A worker next to them glanced around nervously.
"No one’s saying it outright, but the news has already spread through the Union’s private channels. He’s been caught. The Mayor has him."
"To those bigwigs in Washington, Luigi Randall is a terrorist."
"But to workers like us, he’s a hero."
"Yeah," someone else chimed in. "I heard the Mayor is protecting him, refused to hand him over to the FBI. But this isn’t over. Washington is definitely going to come for him."
"Come for him? They dare!" George grew agitated. "There are thousands of us in the Union. We could drown those suits in spit alone."
"Oh, right, that fundraiser..."
George suddenly remembered something and looked at Luna.
"The one Barney started in the Union a few days ago. The donation for a ’brother in need.’"
"You donated too, right?"
Luna nodded.
"Five bucks."
"Me too." George sighed. "Everyone did. Even though there were no names on it, we all knew what it was for."
"That money is definitely for him."
It was an unspoken understanding among them all.
Even if it was just crumpled five and ten-dollar bills.
It was money well spent.
That young man did what they all wanted to do but never dared.
They couldn’t afford guns, but they could afford to show this much respect.
Just then, the cafeteria door was thrown open.
A foreman in a yellow vest strode in.
It was Louis, the general foreman in charge of the tower crane operations area.
Normally, he was a jovial, heavyset man who loved to joke around, but today, his expression was grave.
His eyes scanned the crowd before locking onto Luna.
"Luna!"
Louis shouted, waving her over.
"Come here a minute."
Luna’s heart skipped a beat.
’Did I make a mistake on the job? Or are there layoffs today?’
That bone-deep anxiety about losing her job surged through her.
She put down her coffee and walked over, her stomach churning with apprehension.
The two of them walked out of the cafeteria to a quiet corner.
"Louis, did I do something wrong?" Luna asked cautiously.
"No, you’ve been doing great."
Louis glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then pulled a cell phone from his coat and pressed it into Luna’s hand.
"Listen, Luna, you’re not working your shift today."
"Huh?" Luna was stunned. "Then where am I supposed to go?"
"You’ll get a full day’s pay. We’ll mark you down as present."
Louis spoke quickly. "This is an assignment from the higher-ups. It came directly from Barney."
"You’re going downtown, to the coffee shop across from the Pittsburgh Branch."
"The Pittsburgh Branch?" Luna was even more confused. "What for?"
"To drink coffee."
Louis stared into Luna’s eyes.
"Find a seat by the window, preferably one with a clear view of the station’s main entrance."
"And then, you watch."
The phone in Luna’s hand suddenly felt heavy.
"Watch what?"
"The door."
Louis took a deep breath.
"Our Batman is in there."
Luna clapped a hand over her mouth.
She knew exactly who Batman was, of course.
Luigi Randall.
’So the rumors were true. He really is being held in the Pittsburgh police station.’
"The Mayor stashed him there to protect him," Louis explained. "But the news might have leaked. Those guys in Washington have noses like bloodhounds."
"Your mission is simple."
"If you see anyone in black suits and sunglasses go in."
"Or people with wide-brimmed hats getting out of those blue and white patrol cars."
"Or..."
Louis paused, his expression turning fierce.
"If you see black armored vehicles, or a SWAT team assembling."
"No matter what you see, as long as it’s not one of our own Pittsburgh patrol cars."
"Use this phone immediately."
Louis pointed at the phone.
"And tell me."
Luna tightened her grip on the phone.
Her palms began to sweat.
"Why me?" Luna asked. "There are so many tough guys in the Union."
"Because you’re inconspicuous."
Louis looked at her.
"You’re a woman. Those federal agents will be watching the tough guys on the street corners, they’ll be watching the trucks parked on the side of the road, but they won’t pay any attention to a woman sitting in a coffee shop."
"You’re the perfect lookout."
Luna nodded in understanding.
She tucked the phone into the inner pocket of her coveralls and zipped it up.
"I’ll go,"
Luna said.
"I won’t take my eyes off that door."
...
「Nine in the morning, across from the Pittsburgh Branch.」
A thin layer of condensation coated the coffee shop’s glass window.
Luna sat on a high stool by the window, a now-cold latte on the counter in front of her.
She held a fashion magazine in her hands, but in the last half hour, she hadn’t turned a single page.
Peering over the edge of the magazine, her eyes were locked on the police station’s entrance across the street.
The Pittsburgh Branch was an old, red-brick building that looked somewhat dilapidated.
A few patrol cars with peeling paint were parked out front. Several police officers stood by the entrance, smoking. Everything looked normal.
Maybe it was just her imagination, but Luna could feel the tension in the air.
Quarter past nine.
A black Chevrolet Suburban, without any warning, turned the corner.
The vehicle was large and tall, its windows covered in dark, blast-proof film, making it impossible to see who was inside.
It had a special kind of Federal Government license plate.
Luna’s heart suddenly hammered in her chest.
That was the standard-issue vehicle for the FBI.
She had seen it many times on TV.
It was followed by a second, and then a third.
Three black behemoths crept to a stop in front of the station.
The doors opened.
A dozen or so men in black tactical trench coats jumped out.
Their movements were efficient, their expressions cold, and they all wore earpieces.
Though they were in plainclothes, you could feel their intention to take over the place from all the way across the street.
The man in the lead wore sunglasses. He waved a hand at the team behind him and strode toward the station’s main entrance.
The Pittsburgh cops who had been smoking out front seemed about to stop them, but the leader just flashed a badge, and the Pittsburgh officers backed away.
The group filed inside.
Luna’s hand slipped inside her coveralls, closing around the phone.
Before she could pull it out, sirens wailed from the other end of the street.
"WEE-WOO—WEE-WOO—"
Two patrol cars painted blue and white, Pennsylvania State Police, came screeching onto the scene.
They slammed on the brakes, parking horizontally in front of the station and blocking the escape route for the three black Suburbans.
Several troopers in their signature wide-brimmed hats jumped out, their hands resting on their holsters, expressions grim.
The state police were here, too.
The situation instantly became more complicated.
’The feds are inside, and now the state is here.’
Luna watched the scene unfold.
She should have been scared, but right now, all she felt was a strange sense of rage.
These people, these gun-toting, aggressive big shots, they were here to take away the young man who had stood up for the poor.
They wanted to kill him.
Just like they had once tried to kill this city.
’No,’ she thought.
’This is our city.’
’He’s one of us.’
She pulled out the phone and dialed the only number in its contacts.
"Louis."
Luna’s voice trembled slightly.
"They’re here."
"Three FBI cars, two state police cars."
"They’ve gone inside."
"And..."
Luna’s gaze shifted to the mouth of the alley to the side.
There, a black armored personnel carrier was slowly emerging from the shadows.
The side of the vehicle was stenciled with the white letters SWAT.
"The SWAT team is gathering at the side entrance."
"They’re getting ready to make their move."
The other end of the line was silent for a second.
Then came Louis’s coarse roar, with the sound of countless tons of steel clashing in the background.
"Copy that."
"Good work, Luna."
"Stay put. Don’t move."
Luna hung up the phone.
She looked out the window.
It started to rain.
Through the gray curtain of rain, she thought she could hear the roar of engines in the distance.
The iron tide of Pittsburgh was converging on this spot.