"Do you want to call Albert or should I?" Thunderbolt asked me quietly. I let him do it; Albert likes talking to people who speak French. We agreed that he would meet us at the station; there was no reason for any of this clandestine nonsense. I trust Albert not to go too far, which is more than I trusted Phoenix Talon if he got those guys alone. I didn't feel like giving Holly something to crow about this week.
    Albert was waiting at the station. Once they'd been booked, Talon hauled them down to one of the interrogation rooms, accepting the location under protest.
    "Hey man, what're you doing?" one Cat protested as they were hauled down the corridor.
    "We're gonna talk," Talon told him.
    "My face. What'd he do with my face?" the other groaned.
    "I fed your gun to you. Remember that."
    "Ow!"
    "Hey." The first one entered the room. "At least there's a lawyer here for us."
    "Young man, you shall pay for that," Albert said quietly. "Phoenix, close the door."
    He and Phoenix Talon and Thunderbolt were inside. I leaned on the door outside and nodded at a passing, curious officer, not particularly wanting to watch what was about to transpire but staying nearby just in case. Thunderbolt could keep an eye on them. Heck, he's probably done this kind of thing a lot. Scott went up to Reilly's office for a talk.
    I called Dawn to make sure everything was all right back at the base.
    "They're practicing the drills that dad said they should practice, and I've got Promethean's skeet launch set up, so they're intercepting the skeet in midair and smashing them with their boards," she reported.
    "That should help work off some of that aggression," I allowed.
    "They're getting better."
    "Oh, good."
    Once in a while there was some screaming, but overall not as much as I'd expected.

[Aside: Interrogation]

    After handing the prisoners back over to the police, Phoenix Talon and I discussed our cat problem. He suggested doing a sweep of the Alley Cats' hideout area and picking up all available cats, and then just going in guns blazing. The Blood Boards would be a problem; they would insist on coming, and yet if they did would be placed back in danger.
    It was well into the night; time to turn this over to the subconscious for a while. We all returned to base.

[Aside: Phoenix Talon]

September 5, 1987

I grabbed some sleep, got up early and spent most of my day catching cats with the Boston Animal Control force. I got to be pretty good at it, but I believe the appropriate analogy would be "attempting to bail the ocean." I had no idea how many strays Boston's tightly packed blocks harbored; I could make a new hobby out of this. But, it was doing good of a sort, and keeping me busy while I worried over how on earth we were going to pry Tybalt out of his den. The area the captives had fingered was four blocks by four, a mixture of abandoned buildings long ago scheduled for demolition and occupied slums in Mattapan. I fantasized about calling in the National Guard for this one, but knew that it wasn't going to happen.
    Eventually I went back to base for another brainstorming session with the guys on how we could get into the Alley Cat hideout and get Tybalt out, at which point Scott, bless his heart, laid down the truth: it wasn't going to work. The area was too large. With or without the Blood Boards, storming an area that size, with so many civilians around, and so many bolt holes for Tybalt to use, would accomplish nothing positive. Phoenix Talon protested but eventually gave in.
    Scott presented an alternative plan: write Tybalt a letter. Challenge him to single combat, and do it where his gang could see. He would be forced to defend his reputation or be in danger of losing control of his gang. They had to believe that he was telling the truth when he told them that he could kick Phoenix Talon's ass.
    After some more discussion, we decided to try it. We also decided that the Blood Boards weren't coming. Scott was right; if Tybalt brought his whole force along, they would a) get in our way and b) get killed.
    It's worth remembering that the one commandment Scott's creator gave him, as far as I know, was "don't kill anyone." He takes it seriously.
    It's worth a shot; if it doesn't work, we aren't out anything. Thunderbolt's covert ops experience would probably be a help in making the appropriate contacts to track the feline gang leader down, but that would take a lot of time.

[Aside: Scott; Thunderbolt; Jail]

    Thunderbolt got back. The rest of us were lounging around, fretting gently as time passed and trying to figure how to word the challenge to Tybalt so that he'd be sure to respond.
    "How was tea with Molly?" Scott inquired.
    "Very interesting. Ran into another cat-related villain," he reported.
    "Really?" Talon asked.
    "Who?" Scott added.
    "Her name is Cait Sith, I believe." He told us an entertaining tale of a robbery at Molly's.
    "And you think she's working for Tybalt," Talon concluded.

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