More law enforcement, fake and real

My phone rings after I'm done resting up. I don't recognize the number, and let it go to voice mail.. then immediately listen to it:

“Hi Dan, this is Detective Richards. I am no longer in charge of the investigation of the two people who allegedly came to your apartment, looted it, impersonated police officers, arrested you, detained you, died, etc. Two identical sides of beef with sunglasses and FBI badges came by with all the proper paperwork to take over jurisdiction on the investigation.” He takes a breath, “The paperwork was verified by our contacts, and the chief was quite insistent that we cooperate with Agents J. Smith and J. Smith, and no, it is NOT lost on me.” He takes a deep breath, “The official reason for my call is to let you know that the FBI has taken over the case you reported: Which means they're the ones now maintaining custody of your personal effects held as evidence. I have no knowledge of the scope of their investigation, but such things tend to be lengthy, so I would recommend you purchase replacements for everything. Depending on how much you trust the FBI, you may also wish to update passwords and access tokens. Unofficially: What in the world did you ge.” The recording cuts off abruptly at my message size limit, partway through a word.

I get the gist, though, and save his number in my contacts.

Well… at least I can afford it now. Which reminds me… I pull out my phone - thankfully, I sync my passwords - revoke my old machine from my authorized list, and go systemically through changing all of my passwords and recovery tokens. It won't help much if they present a warrant to any given service but… well, it is what it is.

When I'm done, I go to my banking app, log in again, and look over their mutual fund offerings, dumping all but about a hundred thousand into a mutual fund with a ten year performance track of twelve percent annually… which at least beats inflation by enough to cover my annual expenses. I then pause: What are my expenses now? I stop and do budgeting: Apartment, phone, internet, PO box, utilities, streaming services, my Moogle+ account, a few other odds and ends. I managed enough in grants and my college jobs that I have already paid off what I borrowed in student loans. Now that I no longer need food, I can get by with just thirty grand a year. And there's little reason for me to keep the apartment, if I beef up the data on my phone plan and use tethering. Huh.

I put my phone away when the doorbell rings. I summon up Decoy (now MUCH improved and faster, as I can afford all the supporting talents when they're free) and have him answer the door, mentally directing him. The creature opens the door, and… ah. Two identical sides of beef, in cheap suits, wearing lanyards on their way-too-thick necks, showing identical FBI badges… down to the serial number on the badge.

“Agents John Smith and John Smith, I presume?” I have my proxy speak sarcastically as I start dialing 911.

The first slab of beef starts to speak, “Dan Daniels, you are under arrest for…”

“Don't bother,” a woman's voice I can't see speaks from outside with an oriental accent, “that's a tulpa. If Dan is a tulpa master, that would explain both how he escaped custody and how he broke the other two out: You never actually had him, and he just kept throwing disposable thought forms at the golems.” The woman steps into view, dressed in yellow and orange sashes, a little dot tattooed on the dark skin of her forehead, something that looks like a feather mohawk hat on her head, “although I must admit, a tulpa used as a channel to form more tulpas is a trick I haven't seen before.”

Considering that, I have my proxy respond as I work in as low of a voice as I can manage with the 911 operator in the other room, “Given that I have dealt with identical meatslabs exactly like these two before, I'm going to go with ‘you're not really officers of the law, so go away and quit harassing me.’ Good day.” I have it close the door while I quietly call 911.

One of the slabs of meat catches it, as the woman replies, “We are not FBI, and not local police, but we are government, specifically the Bureau of Magical Management.”

“You have already impersonated government agents, I cannot trust that a different statement that you REALLY ARE government agents of some agency I've never heard of is valid,” I have my proxy object, rolling his eyes, while I get some reassurance that help is on the way from the 911 operator. “Even if by some random chance you happen to be doing something other than feeding me a bald-faced lie this time, my friends were held with no arraignment, no records, no CONSTITUTIONALLY REQUIRED due process, so you're STILL not legitimate. Again, go away.” I have my proxy attempt to close the door… but he can do all of jack and squat against the slab of meat's grip.

“Look, can we NOT get into a shouting match about classified information on your front porch in a dense apartment complex?” She takes a breath, “At least let us come inside so we can…”

I have my proxy interrupt, getting a status update myself from the 911 operator, “No. The last time your supposed officers were here they tore my place up and STOLE a bunch of my property, and I am absolutely NOT inviting anything I don't trust in. Again: Go away.”

The woman practically growls, “Look, we weren't planning on keeping you, we just wanted to get you all to a secured location so we could explain the rules and why they exist. You're fresh Mythics, you NEED to know this stuff, so just…”

She's interrupted by a bullhorn, “This is the police. The REAL police. Come down with your hands up.”

“Too late,” I have my proxy grin, “I did try to get you to leave. Three times, even. Doesn't matter what you say, because given the lies and rampant ignoring of the highest law of the land, I can't trust anything you or anyone else from your alleged government organization says. Good. Day.”

The woman gives an exasperated sigh as I quietly hand my proxy my wallet with my old ID, and accompany the woman and two golems down to the police. I follow silently, readying myself for something I'm confident enough is coming.

When we get down, there's three police cars waiting, and as many officers, using their cars as cover, “On the ground, hands on your heads.”I have my proxy obey - worst case scenario, I un-summon him later.

The two goons and the oddly dressed woman do as well. As they're all getting their weapons confiscated - the officers whistle appreciatively at the hand cannons the golems are packing - the woman speaks up, “Look, this is a simple misunderstanding. We're FBI, and we have the badges to prove it.”

“We'll look at those after you're all secure,” the officer with the bullhorn confirms, as I invisibly smile.

A few minutes later, they're pulling the FBI badges from the perp's necks, and I see what I was expecting as the two start to read the numbers: The woman concentrating and mumbling… which is my cue: A nice big zap of nonlethal damage to interrupt her casting. My ring let's me spend Mythic Power in place of metamagic adjustments, and I get unlimited Mythic power. An Empowered, Maximized, Twinned, Invisible Spell Spheres Destruction blast using Damage Control, Focused Blast and **** Blast and she's not only interrupted, but ****… and nobody sees anything happening.

I smile as the officers confirm that the numbers match, twice, and uncuff my proxy, “Proof enough that they're fakes.”

I have my mimic smile and nod, “Thank you officers.”

The officer continues, “I'm going to need a statement…” he hands my proxy some paperwork to fill out on a clipboard, along with a pen.

I walk my proxy through filling it out about as honestly as I remember… for my proxy's perspective… and quietly grab the pen myself for the actual signature. The officer takes it, and a picture of my ID, reading it quickly, and frowns, “Ah… so who called 911?”

“A friend who has reason to distrust authority, using my phone,” I have my proxy answer.

He stares at my proxy for a while, “That's it?”

I have my proxy blink a few times, “In the last couple days, my apartment was torn up and much of my stuff stolen by fake officers. I was arrested by fake officers, and now I was almost arrested AGAIN by the same. Oh yes, and my stuff hasn’t been returned to me, despite it being recovered by the real police… because some ‘FBI officers’ matching the description of the two fellows that you just arrested for being fakes,” I have my proxy point at the two golems being loaded into the back of a wagon, “‘took over the investigation’ along with custody of the evidence. If my friend doesn't want to interact with anyone in uniform, I can't exactly say I blame them, so I’m going to respect their decision to avoid showing their face by not naming them or disclosing any details about them. Is that a problem?”

The officer takes a long, slow breath, “A problem, yes; a crime…” he pauses, “...not unless you’re sheltering a fugitive or some such. And given what you’ve been through by people abusing public trust… I’m not going to press.” He shakes his head, “Thank you for your cooperation.” He lets what’s left of his breath out in a sigh.

“Thank you for your service,” I have the minion reply as the officer waves and walks back to his car.

Taking a slow, silent breath myself, I watch as the real officers take the two walls of meat and the **** woman away. She’ll… probably end up at the hospital, I imagine, given that she’s going to be really difficult to wake up for… probably hours, maybe days. I wait and watch, along with my proxy, as the police question the neighbors, check for doorbell camera footage, talk to the facilities manager, and so on… and eventually clear out. Which means it’s time for me to start up my own work. I now have a Wish of my own - although limited to a caster level of four, so it can’t do much... although it does benefit from my plethora of class features - plus a ring with three daily Wishes and a caster level of twenty four. So I go into my apartment, use my personal Wish to cast Mage’s Magnificent Mansion (putting the shimmering light that is the door on a wall) and walk in… where I go with Adam’s trick of making simulacrums of advanced outsiders to get full-strength fakes. One Solar, one Veranallia, and one Pleronama. Two of them because… well, Adam’s choices were in fact, pretty good… the Plenorama because it gets Fabricate seven times a day for free (great for mundane goods like gold and diamond jewelry), Wish once a day (which rocks all by itself), and still has full Cleric casting. I task the Solar with making a 'Divine Realm' for me (and checking to see if I’m responsive daily, with orders to rescue me if I’m not), the Veranallia with attempting to True Resurrect me once a day, and task the Plenorama with making a lot of gold and diamond goods. The floor plan I selected for my “Mansion” is actually pretty basic: As big of an open area as I could get with a caster level of four: Which works out to twelve hundred square feet with a ten foot ceiling - bigger than my apartment, at least; I may do this again later. There’s a table with food (not that I or my summons or simulacra eat, but it comes with the spell), and that’s it. The Solar will need to rest and re-prepare spells to get the set I want, probably burn a Wish on the needed focus… but she’s smart enough to manage that herself.

My direct part of all that done, I head back to the real world… just in time for my phone to ring with a number I now recognize….