Robin Ch 5
Story by Cadi Carys on SoFurry
Imported from SF2 with no description.
In the coming weeks, many of the other residents in the area rather 'officially' joined the family, starting with Hugo's parents. In a lot of ways, the area became what a furry district should be, rather than the half-police states that the transhuman districts were in practice. It made the people who lived here sad to see how others of their kind were being treated, but they understood that they didn't really have the resources to tear down the district system.
Still, every last person in the district was careful not to let outsiders see them in what they very quickly came to see as their true forms. They were well aware how much worse people would start being treated if it was widely understood that people could change between human and fur forms. The witch-hunts would be devastating.
Robin kept her inner circle, though, consisting mainly of Jenny, Sofia, Cailyn, Krystie, Emmet, and Hugo, who she rather regarded as the originals... or, at least, those who had believed in her first. Even Caroline frequently joined in with this group, but she was also frequently busy with her more... official work from the convent.
Still, it was one night at the pub, when only the locals were around that the cluster of them were sitting there discussing the situation. “I've heard that a lot of the districts just aren't getting the resources they need... even in France, a lot of the residents are having to build gardens wherever they can to help supplement the supplies they are provided," Emmet said, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sipped on his cider.
“It's worse than that," Krystie said, scowling over her porter, “There's a lot of good evidence to suggest that some of the politicians who are meant to be managing the supplies have been siphoning off a cut of them in order to sell under the table."
Robin listened to what they were saying, her own drink untouched that evening. As the conversation went on, she sat forward, putting her elbows on the table and crossing her fingers to rest her chin on. “Well. I know there are stories about a local boy who had a nasty habit of taking matters into his own hands when the wealthy were shafting those who had no way to stand up for themselves," she said, finally picking up her drink and taking a long sip of it. “I think it's time that someone took a page out of his book."
There wasn't a single person at the table who wasn't grinning from ear to ear at what she'd just said. “It's a good thing that that local boy had plenty of people to help him, too. Wasn't it?" Cailyn laughed over her remark, as did the others, who were all nodding in agreement.
Robin's eyes went wide as she looked around at the rest of them. “I couldn't... the rest of you don't have the magic like I do."
“Mmm. Not entirely true," another voice said at the table as Nothing was there swirling a glass of wine. “Just because I haven't shared my power with them doesn't mean I couldn't," he said with a little chuckle. “Besides, they'd be free to develop their own particular skills to help round out a challenge like you'll be dealing with."
Krystie grinned and cracked her knuckles, “Can't hurt to have a heavy hitter, right Robin? You're good in a fight, but it is always better to have someone you can rely on at your back."
Robin was gearing up to protest when Jenny chimed in, “And you're going to need someone who's a wiz at computers, like me. Or, did you have a plan for figuring out how these people were moving their money and resources around? I mean, no offense, but at least with the drug rings, you were dealing with people who had to operate very directly. With politicians, it's like trying to wrestle an octopus. Too many arms able to act independently."
“True, but..." Robin started before Emmet reached out and put his hand on Robin's.
“But if any of us got hurt, you'd eat yourself alive with guilt. Trust us, we get that. What we're trying to get you to understand, though, is that if you go over people like Heathridge," one of the biggest firebrands against the furs in England, "or if we ever manage to reach into America and show Parson what's for, we're going to need to adapt to beat them at their own game."
Robin sighed heavily, hanging her head and closing her eyes. She knew when she was beaten in an argument like this. “Alright, I see I'm outnumbered," she said with a laugh and a smirk, shaking her head, “Almost makes me feel bad for them now... when they've got all of us to deal with," she added, grinning from ear to ear before she picked up her lager and knocked back a good drink of it.
They quickly set to work, deciding to focus their investigations on Heathridge first. Jenny was right... she really was invaluable to the mission. When Robin started to wrap her head around how complex and well masked the siphoning of resources was. Robin could almost have been impressed with how thorough Heathridge's job was, if it hadn't been so malicious.
They tracked just where in the chain the supplies were being siphoned off, with Robin, Emmet, and Krystie doing the most to gather evidence first hand, photographing the transactions from places that no one but them could reach and stay hidden like they did. With Cailyn's help, Jenny was putting together a very impressive portfolio to hand over to the authorities when the time came.
But, in the meanwhile, the ground-squad was doing their best to eat into the profits, stealing back the stolen goods, setting them aside in a warehouse until the time was right to get them to the district. It wasn't a simple matter, though. Still, at least Robin was able to get into the district as well, not needing to disguise herself in order to go unnoticed. If there was one capacity in which she envied the furs here, it was that they didn't have to pretend to be human so much of the time. That was the one thing that still ate at her.
She was able to case the supply depots in the district, using many of the same skills that she had dealing with the crime rings, but this would be in order to return stollen goods, not steal from them. The reversal brought a smile to Robin's face as she worked.
They were able to make several successful drop-offs, and Robin was able to see their surprise the next day when they found more resources than they had expected, though most often, they chalked it up to miscounting and tiredness at the end of long days.
It wasn't as though they were able to save a significant amount of the resources being siphoned off, but they could tell that they were helping in the district even so. But Robin wanted to do more.
They needed to get Heathridge's fingerprints on the theft of resources. That was proving difficult, though. Jenny hadn't managed to crack the encryption on his communications yet, even with Nothing's help.
One day, as they were holding a council of war on the matter, Emmet cursed under his breath, “It's too bad we can't get a fly on the wall in his office," he said in irritation.
At that, Robin and Jenny traded looks, and the canine tilted her head to one side. “Why couldn't we?"
Emmet blinked, looking around for a moment. “I mean... it's not like we have to worry about... sneaking past security to get into his office... are we able to make spy cams able to be hidden around the place?"
That was a good question, and for the next few nights, Robin's job was to do everything she could in order to case Heathridge's office, looking for places to hide bugs. Meanwhile, Jenny worked with Nothing to make the bugs to fit into the places that they picked. They even managed to get a keylogger that Robin could put on his computer in order to intercept anything that he typed, even if they wouldn't be able to see what was on the screen.
After a week of this, they went to his office, bugging the living daylights out of it, making sure the keylogger was securely in place. They were gone before anyone from the security team came to check on the room, and the next morning, they cheered as they started getting several live feeds into Heathridge's inner sanctum.
Almost immediately, they caught him talking about the siphoning of resources from the Transhuman District with one of his aides, who was clearly one of the key go-betweens in his criminal enterprise. They made note of who he spoke with, and turned their attention to tracking him as well.
That night, they retrieved the keylogger, checking the logs in it against the camera they had catching his monitor. They came away from that with several passwords, which they quickly put to good use. The keylogger then made its way to the aide's computer, gaining them access to his information as well.
They were, honestly, like kids in candy stores, positively spoiled for evidence to add to their portfolio. The emails were like fire, and many of them from Heathridge and the aide were added to the portfolio.
While the tech team were working away at that, though, Robin made her way back to the district, finding a time when the director of the district was out of her office. She got comfortable in her chair, putting her feet up on her desk. She left her mask on, but took her hood off to show off her fox ears. She had almost dozed off there like that when the director got back.
Still, the door opening snapped her back to her senses, and she grinned at the director as she questioned what was going on in French. Robin had learned French in school, but... she was far from skilled in it. “Parlez vous Anglais," she checked, and when the director replied in accented English that of course she did, Robin stretched and sat up, taking her feet off of the desk.
“Great. Don't worry, I'm not here to take anything. If anything, I'm here to help you out," she said, pulling out a large envelope, setting it on the desk and pushing it across to the director. “I've been tracing Heathridge from England... gathering evidence on the supply shipments being sent to the district. I think you'll find what's in that folder very interesting. Look, I know you're not in any kind of a position to complain about him, but you're not going to have to. I'm about to drop this on the desks of a lot of people. Politicians, reporters, police, anyone who can raise the alarm about this. I'm going to spread it so far and wide that they'll never be able to bury it. It's not right what they're doing to you... to our kind, and I'm able to do something about it."
The director took the envelope and opened it up, starting to look through it, showing no sense of amusement on her face. After several pages, which Robin knew were quite damning all on their own (they had been sure to front-load it), she looked up from the papers. “And how do you plan to spread this so far and wide? How did you gather all of this information? Who are you?"
Robin chuckled and sighed, “At this stage, you can call me Robin Hood. We're the ones who've been sneaking certain bundles of resources back into your warehouse. As for how I'm able to spread it far and wide and how I got it... you can say that I've got several valuable skills and special tricks when it comes to getting into and out of secure locations."
The director smirked and nodded. “Obviously," she said.
“Look, the important thing to keep in mind is that you have allies on the outside. All of the districts do. We're not going to put up with the districts getting starved of what they need. This is a crime against humanity, not some way of keeping furs safe. It can't be allowed to succeed in killing all of us off. We've done nothing to deserve that." The fire in her voice was powerful.
It made the director grin... and even take a little bit of a step back as she nodded her head. “Mmm. That is good to know. So, Miss Hood... I have to say thank you... and wish you the best of luck with what you are trying to do."
Robin laughed and stood up, stretching, “I've got better than luck on my side," she said, pulling out a smoke pellet. She threw it down at the ground before teleporting away.
The next day, the world exploded for Heathridge. Numerous news outlets began simultaneously reporting on evidence that had been provided which outlined a systematic effort to steal resources from the Transhuman District in France, and many politicians very quickly began to vocally denounce the actions in the report, calling for the removal of Heathridge from office.
When the tide of public opinion began to become obvious, even the politicians that had been slow to denounce Heathridge began to join the cry for his resignation and prosecution. By the end of the day, Heathridge's office was in a complete panic, trying to figure out what was going on and how all of his secrets had leaked all at once.
That evening, as he was going to bed, though, there was someone in his bedroom waiting for him. A masked fox, dressed all in black with a window open off to one side. One that should have been securely locked. “You made a bad decision, Heathridge. And now it is out. These people aren't cattle to be shoved in a stockyard and fed off of. If you still have any friends out there, you can let them know that if things don't change, we'll be coming for them too. And you'll never see us coming. It's too late to save your ass... but if they have enough sense of self preservation to straighten up, there may still be a chance for them."
“It may not be the 1200's anymore, but that doesn't mean that someone isn't still going to rob from the rich to give to the poor. You and your friends can be certain, though, that this Hood is going to do everything in her power to look after the people that you and every other cowardly politician has shoved into your vile districts are well taken care of, and have what they need."
She didn't wait for him to reply, she simply made her way to the window and jumped out of it, teleporting away before he could make it over to look down and try to track her. There would be no tracks... no evidence to follow. No clues on how the window had been opened. It was as though he'd been attacked by a ghost.
A few months later, Robin went to check in with the director again, this time bringing a bottle of fine wine (which may or may not have been liberated from Heathridge's cellars), and she was not sitting brashly behind the desk. When the director came into the room, she smirked. “Ah. Ma belle Robin Hood," she said, walking over to the table where Robin was uncorking the bottle to pour each of them a glass of wine. “No mask today?"
Robin had passed on the mask this time, showing a level of trust for the director. “No, no masks today, director Goddard. I wanted to bring a gift, and to see how things were doing these days," she said as she held out the glass of wine.
The director accepted it and swirled it around before breathing it in. “Mmm... quite the gift, indeed. Merci boucoup. Things are doing much better now. Though, even now that we no longer need to grow so much of our own food... our people have found a certain level of pride in doing so. So, the gardens continue, even as the supplies increase."
Robin smiled and nodded her head, “I'm glad to hear that. Here's hoping that one day, we'll be able to provide fully for ourselves... rather than relying on the 'benevolent governments of the world' to supply us with most of what we have," she said, pulling a bit of a face at her own sarcasm. That got quite the laugh from the director.
“True. We can only hope. But hope is powerful... and far more abundant, after your little caper. You truly have the gratitude of the entire district... and from what I have been hearing from the other directors, it seems as though you have spooked quite a few people around the world. Heathridge's veritable crucifixion in the courts set quite the example... and they are all reporting increased shipments," she said with a broad smile on her feline face. She was quite the elegant Siamese cat.
“Good. If anyone starts to notice supplies trickling off again, just let me know," she said, tapping a card on the table, which had a few pieces of contact information. All of it quite secure and untraceable.
She smiled and bowed her head. “Of course, Miss Robin Hood. And thank you for everything you've done. Especially the wine, she said, saluting her before grinning over another sip.
“Oh, that... well, Heathridge's cellars were very generous to our cause. I assure you, though, we will take good care of it, and make sure that it is ready to hand when there is a celebration befitting it," she said with her own salute and sip from the glass.
Director Goddard laughed and sighed, shaking her head. “Quite the clever fox you are. I won't ask anything of you that could... compromise you, if I were to divulge it. Willingly or otherwise."
“Much appreciated," she said, finishing her glass of the wine, setting it on the table and bowing to the director before she pulled her mask up once more and walked back. “Until next time," she said, using another smoke pellet to cover her teleportation.