Beacons of Love

Frosty the Qrowman

"Specialist Schnee, reporting as ordered, sir!"

"At ease, Specialist." General Ironwood waved off the obligatory salute. "Take a seat."

"Thank you, sir," Winter rigidly replied. Even seated, she still maintained her strict posture. Ironwood had long ago given up on having her act casual in their meetings.

Instead, Ironwood decided to get straight down to business. "How goes Operation Wild Oats?"

"Excellent, sir. My profile has received numerous requests already." Though he hid it well, Ironwood felt a little insulted that his own profile had yet to generate any interest. Perhaps setting it up himself had been a poor decision. As much as he loathed the idea of seeking assistance from two of Ozpin's students – first-years, no less – for a military operation, Winter's success seemed proof enough of their methods.

Am I really that out of touch with today's youth? Maybe he could add some hobbies and interests. He still loved marching music. And who didn't get a thrill out of fieldstripping a rifle blindfolded?

"Any new leads?" Ignoring Winter's surging popularity among the male population of Vale, it would all be for naught if they didn't ferret out false profiles like their own. He only hoped he could find Torchwick and his accomplices before they caused any more trouble.

"I did locate one, sir." Winter handed her scroll to the general as she spoke. "Jack Corvus. Profile was created after the Torchwick encounter. Conducted a quick search of our databases, but no results were found."

"Interesting," Ironwood hummed as he reviewed the profile. A youth in this day and age not having any online presence definitely raised some red flags. "Has he expressed any interest in your profile?"

"Affirmative." Winter handed over a multi-page printout of an ongoing chat between the two. Ironwood did his best to pick through the layers of cryptic slang, struggling to comprehend most of what the odd teenager wrote. What little was readable appeared to express interest in meeting. The rest was a seemingly nonsensical code that he doubted his most brilliant officers could crack. Ironwood jotted down an idea in his notebook for future use.

Teenagers as code talkers. It would take years for his enemies to decipher the strange amalgamation of phrases. Why do people always sound excited about the lighting at events? Is it really that important to them that a venue be well lit? And what kind of Semblance can throw shade? Also, who is this Felicia and why is she always leaving?

Don't even get him started on the mistreatment of ratchets.

"Well, if Mister Corvus is so eager to meet, perhaps you should treat him to dinner," Ironwood suggested. If it turned out this Jack Corvus was real, Winter could stand him up and continue her investigation. If he insisted on trying to contact her further, she would simply ghoul him. I believe I'm using that right.

Winter once again proved why he trusted her above any other. "I have already done so, sir. I am to meet him tonight at nineteen hundred at Clemens."

"The same location as Torchwick's last encounter." Yet another similarity. "Excellent work, Specialist. Will you require any backup?" Not that he doubted Winter being able to handle a common criminal herself, but they knew he had help. His little bodyguard was clearly Huntsman trained and who knew how many subordinates he currently had. Better to be prepared, just in case.

"I will have a team on standby two blocks away listening in." Winter tapped her ear, alluding to the use of some sort of hidden communication device. "If it is indeed our target, I will have my double lead him away from the civilians before engaging." It seemed Winter had already planned for contingencies, though one detail caught his attention.