Argus remained in the area to make sure the cleanup went without a hitch and in doing so caught a glimpse of the shadowy figure who had assisted in the restaurant. As she watched, he flowed swiftly across a rooftop and then down the side of a building, where he efficiently dealt with someone hiding under a burned-out streetlight. He then free-climbed up the side of a brick building and disappeared again. She was impressed. She also noted that he seemed to be headed toward the wharfs; she did the same, hoping to find out what he was doing in her territory. It took every bit of her skill to keep him in sight, and she would have lost him had he not paused to deal with a lookout the Levelers had left behind them. The remaining four were moving toward a cargo vessel docked in the harbor; she idled silently along behind them, as always on the lookout for information.
    "Do you think they're still following us?" one asked in Russian.
    "We haven't heard anything back from the others. Surely they would have made some noise, fired their guns in the air if anything had happened. There's no way that two of them could have been taken by surprise. No, I think we're safe. We should be able to hole up back at the ship until such time as we can break Leveler out—oh no."
    The White Rose was waiting at the top of the gangplank.
    "It's not human!" one of the men stuttered.
    Two of them were cocking guns, while the two armed with axe handles were turning around to run.
    Argus flicked on her bike's headlight, pinning their panicked faces in the beam.
    It did not take the two long to deal with the remaining communist forces. The White Rose tied them to the gangplank while Argus lectured them on the benefits of a free and capitalist society.
    "This is Nigel," Argus heard over her helmet radio. "From the Eyes that we have present there, it looks like the situation's clear. The Vanguard character seems to have disappeared entirely."
    "Keep an eye out for him," she directed quietly.
    "Yes, mistress."
    "If I might ask, what you're doing in town?" she inquired of the Rose.
    "Looking for a yacht."
    "For sale, or...?"
    "Stolen."
    "Ah." The two regarded each other a trifle warily. "I'd be happy to lend a hand, as you so kindly assisted earlier tonight."
    "I don't suppose you happen to know anything of a personal yacht, the Lias' Pride?"
    
    Back at the party, before Madison was able to leave, Fitzgerald came up to him. "It was good to see you tonight, it's always a pleasure to meet another professional of the craft. You might want to consider—for years I went around with a personal bodyguard myself."
    "Yes, that might be a good idea."
    "He still would be with me now, but I'm feeling safe, Anyway, pleasure to meet you."
    "Thank you."
    "The performance is going to be all this week."
    "Oh, I'll be there," Augustus promised. "Have a good night."
    He was no detective, but something about that exchange seemed odd. The night having not come off as a particular success by his lights, he returned to his hotel, listened in on the police radio for a while, where he heard about the fate of the remaining Levelers.
    "We're going to have to start a file on this guy, we seem to have another one," an officer said. "Mark this one down as another Argus sighting, and open up another file labeled Florist, we'll just run with that."
    Madison broke into their channel. "This is Captain Vanguard."
    "Listen, you costumed punk, what're you doing on police channels?" the chief barked.
    "Taking them over," he replied calmly. "The man who left the flowers is the White Rose, he works out of Philadelphia. That is all." He cut the transmission. "Jackass."
    "Looks like we've got a bunch of these vigilante types, maybe there's some sort of convention. I want everyone to be on double alert. And if you're still listening, stay off our channels!"
    "Actually sir, we've thought for some time that it's possible the Argus character might be breaking into police channels as well," an unwise patrolman offered.
    "I've told you that's not possible!"
    Augustus, who as Captain Vanguard was hailed as a symbol of the city and its shining future and who believed the LAPD to be one of the bastions of civilization, shook his head sadly and retired in search of a good night's sleep.
    
    "I hadn't heard about the theft," Argus told the Rose. "If they wanted to be inconspicuous, there are a few docks they might use, we can check there. I don't have any plans for the evening, wasn't sure how long the Leveler business would take." It would certainly have taken more time if not for the timely—if odd—assistance.
    Before they left, the Rose searched the freighter, though Argus had a good idea what they would find; she had known about this base for a while and hadn't notified the police only because they would simply find a new home. The ship held printing equipment, radios, living quarters, and weapons stores, Argus knew that they had more people than the twelve they had seen, probably another dozen more. He wouldn't have used them all for one action; additionally some were in jail and others were noncombatants who supported the revolution through lectures and more conventional forms of fundraising than crashing parties. The weapons were shotguns and submachine guns, nothing truly worrisome.
    They spent the remainder of the night searching for the yacht, and Argus dispatched a few of her Eyes. Five boats matched the external description, although of course none bore the correct name.
    "I put some of my people on the search for the boat; is there any way I can get in touch with you if they turn anything up?" Argus asked. One of the Eyes would look into the harbor records and see when those five boats came in,
    His family had had people once; they'd been eaten. He didn't want to give her his hotel, which made things problematic. "Meet back here this evening?" he suggested.
    

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