Chapter Text

“My father is innocent. Just because we're not benders doesn't mean we support those awful Equalists!”

Asami’s lies rang out in her mind as she watched Korra stomp out of Hiroshi’s office, stalled but not defeated. Tenzin and the Chief followed her, ready to lead their own investigation of Sato Industries holdings.

She felt Mako still at her side, though. Reaching for her hand. It took Asami a moment to open her palm for him. “I should go see them out,” Mako said. She nodded, leaning into a kiss to her forehead and following him to the door. She closed it behind him.

An afternoon at the test driving track. Friendly conversation. She’d had a good day before now.

Hiroshi turned on his radio and the evening news flooded the room. Asami stepped to his desk. “Korra’s not even staying here,” she whispered harshly, “How many times could Mako or Bolin have overheard you?”

Her father remained focused on an accounting book in front of him. The reporter on the wireless droned: ‘Another protest ended in violence tonight, as Equalist and Council supporters clashed in the Ivy district, leaving it a maelstrom of property damage, fire, and injury. Republic City Police arrived on the scene shortly after rioting broke out...’

With a heavy exhale, she turned to her father’s drinks trolley.

“If the benders insist on setting fire to our entire city,” Hiroshi said under the noise, “Then public opinion is going to sway sooner than any of us could have hoped.”

“Sounds like there’s plenty of swinging from both sides,” Asami said. She poured a brandy into a short crystal tumbler.

“Excuse me, young lady.”

Asami glanced back at him. “May I?” She asked, gingerly swirling the glass.

A moment passed before he nodded. “No number of angry civilians are a match for a few firebenders,” he said, “People could be killed.”

“There was no one planted in the crowd with those gloves?”

“Republic City is rising up on its own. Risking our soldiers risks the entire movement.”

“Well I’m glad our soldiers are out of harm’s way.” Asami toasted with her glass and took a long sip. The brandy had a smooth burn. Wiping a thumb along the rim, she smeared her red lipstick print.

‘...while Chief Lin Beifong has said that she will not pull back on the Republic City police force’s tactics against violence in the name of the Equalist leader Amon…’

Hiroshi reached for his phone and spoke a number to the Sato Industries private operator. The radio continued blaring in the background, but Asami watched her father’s lips. Heard the faintest hints of his voice. “Move up the timetable,” he said.

She downed the rest of her brandy. “What are you doing?”

Her father ignored her. “No,” he said to the other line, “The lot of them are headed towards the warehouses. The police will be watching all day. Get her alone, and finish this. Tonight.”

He hung up. “I should never have put you in this kind of danger, Asami. I’m sorry.”

“What are they going to do?”

“They’ll take her quickly. Quietly,” her father said. “We had contingencies in place.” Standing from his desk, he reached out and gently took the tumbler from her. “I am so proud of all you tried to do for the cause.” His arms wrapped around her for a heartbeat. “But this business is not for you.”

He returned to his desk. To his paperwork. As if he hadn’t just ordered an abduction. Without a word, Asami wandered out of the office. She fell back against the door, the brandy burning its way into her gut. The fire rose to her chest.

“I’m going with them to the warehouse,” Mako called from the foot of the stairs. “Probably be back late.”

Glaring a hole into the wall, she pushed from the door and hustled down the stairs. “Be careful,” she yelled back to him. Too loud. “I’ll see you tonight.” Reaching his side, Asami grabbed his hand. She marched them towards the Staff Wing of the house. “I’m coming with you,” she said under her breath.

“What?” Mako kept his voice low, glancing around as she pulled him into a hallway towards the garage. “Look, I’m sorry about Korra, but you don’t have to-”

“If she’s so hell-bent on proving that my father is an Equalist, I want to see what she finds.” Underneath the driver’s seat of Asami’s satomobile would be a duffel bag. No one had discovered the mask, or at least, no one had said anything about it. Those in her family’s employ knew not to dare touch her baby.

“I’ll drive,” Asami said, a storm of stiff brandy and absolute terror pumping through her veins.