by Jay Posey
Cass waved Mister Sun over and she and Wren both hugged the little man. Kit floated into the back room, tugging at her fingers and looking concerned.
“Thank you for everything, Mister Sun,” Cass said. “We really have no way to repay you for all your kindness.”
“Be safe,” he answered, “and that will be payment enough.”
“Kit, I’m sorry you got stuck in all this,” said Cass. “I hope you understand.”
“I do, Miss Cass, and I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused.”
“You were no trouble at all. We’ll just have to trust you to forget everything you saw tonight.”
“Maybe not quite everything,” Kit said, and she looked at Wick then with a sly little smile. “But you can count on me, Miss Cass. You know I’d do anything for you two.”
“How many?” Gamble said abruptly. It took a second before Cass realized she wasn’t talking to any of them. And then she was. “Mister Sun, do you have any other exits besides this and the front door? Preferably something inconspicuous?”
Mister Sun shook his head. “I’m afraid not, my friend.”
“What’s up?” Cass asked.
“Guards in the street again,” Gamble said.
“Same ones as before?” Cass asked her.
“Unknown. But there are more of them this time.”
Wick set his bag of supplies on the floor. “Give me two minutes’ headstart,” he said. “I’ll run interference, try to draw them away from the back so you guys can slip out.”
“Negative,” Gamble said. “I need you to get these people to the right place. I’ll go.”
“Wait,” Cass said, “if it’s the guard, can’t you just go pull rank on them?”
“I wouldn’t trust it, ma’am,” Wick said. “If one of us goes walking out there to talk, they’re gonna guess you’re nearby. And if someone’s looking for you…” He shook his head. “It’s gotta be me, Gamble. No offense, but I’ve got a better chance of shaking them.”
“I said no, Wick. I can’t spare you. And I need Sky and Finn running the wings, so that leaves me.”
“I’ll do it,” a quiet voice said. Everyone looked around. It was Kit. “I’ll do it,” she said a little more strongly.
“I appreciate it, ma’am,” Gamble said, “but it’s too dangerous.”
“What do you need? Just some kind of distraction?” Kit asked.
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Is it really?” Kit said. “Sounds to me like you just need somebody to make enough of a fuss – around the front door – to let you guys slip out the back.”
“Ma’am, we don’t know why those people are out there, or what they’re looking for, or what they might do if they saw someone leaving. For all we know, they might shoot you on sight.”
“So it’s OK for you to get shot, but not me?”
“I’ve been shot before.”
“Well, you can’t afford to get shot now. And I’m faster than I look.”
“It’s true,” Wick said. “She almost got away from me.”
“Almost,” Gamble said. But Cass could see it on her face already. If the girl was willing to try, it just might be the best option, and Gamble was considering it. “There are six of them out there.”
“Let me help,” Kit said. “Please. I can do this for you.” She wasn’t pleading. Just calmly stating a fact. “Maybe it’ll make up for me stumbling in here in the first place.”
“Understand this isn’t something for you to try,” Gamble said. “It’s something you must do. If you go out there and get caught and bring down a bunch of reinforcements on us, it’s going to go badly for a lot of people.”
“They won’t catch me.” Gamble just looked at Kit with that level stare of hers, evaluating. “They won’t,” Kit said again.
Gamble clenched her jaw for a long moment. Then she finally dipped her head forward slightly. “Straight out the front, cross into the alley, don’t look back. Do you know where you’re running to?”
“Not yet.”
“Pick a place. Somewhere away from the compound where you can get lost.”
Kit thought for a moment, and then nodded. She said, “OK, I know one.”
“And a backup.”
“OK.”
“The backup is only for if you get cut off. You got it?” Gamble asked.
“Yeah, I got it.”
“If we had more time I’d have you pick two more.”
“I won’t even need the backup,” Kit said.
Gamble kept looking at her, but said, “Sky, our guest is going to give us a hand… yeah… yeah, she can do it. Front door. Anybody tries to get a bead on her on her way out, you drop him.” And then to Kit, “You sure you want to do this?”
Kit nodded with confidence, but she licked her lips as if they’d just gone dry.
“Alright,” Gamble said. “Pull your hood up. And run like all hell is on your heels.”
One of the trickier parts of Sky’s job was keeping track of all the targets; not just how many and where they were, but how they were armed, their estimated skill level, who was in charge. If the team was ever forced to engage, it made everyone’s jobs easier if they knew who the biggest threats were and where the bad guys were getting their orders from before the shooting started. Cleaning up the Weir was a lot easier. One was pretty much as good as another when it came to target selection.
“Finn, you still got two back there?” Sky whispered over their secure channel.
There were two clicks in the channel, the sound of Finn quickly opening and then closing his broadcast without speaking. The bad guys were so close he didn’t want to risk answering.
“You in trouble? Gimme one for yes, two for no.”
A pause. Then: Click. Click.
Right now, there were six guardsmen prowling around the perimeter of Mister Sun’s Tea House, and Sky didn’t recognize any of them from before. In fact, he didn’t recognize any of them at all. He had eyes on four of them standing in a knot about thirty meters up the street from the Tea House. Two others had approached and disappeared around the back side. A few moments later, those two emerged from behind the building.
“Alright, I’m clear,” Finn said. “I think those two were doing a quick high-low.” Checking for entrances above or below street level.
“That’s a lot of attention for the night.”
“Might just be following up from before.”
“That’d be nice. You think so?” Sky asked.
“No.”
“Yeah.”
Sky had already identified the head man in charge, which he just dubbed Headman; one of those close-crop haircuts, square-jawed, perpetually angry guys who was so emphatic he had to use a fully opened hand to point at things instead of just a finger. Two of the other guards had coilguns, small sidearm-style jobs that usually went to low-grade officers. And at least one was toting something heavier. The last two were a couple of grunt-level foot soldiers, each carrying a stunrod.
Three officers and a specialist meant something more than just the average foot patrol. This was a unit. And they were loaded for bear.
Sky adjusted his optic and scoped each target in order of importance; Headman, Heavy, Coilgun A, Coilgun B, Footie One, Footie Two. If they were a seasoned team, he’d have to drop half before they broke. If he was lucky, he might just have to take the first two. He never counted on being lucky.
The six guards broke into three teams. Headman and Heavy stayed back while each Coilgun paired up with a Footie and started spreading out on either side of the building. But they were keeping some distance. Sky got the impression that they might be there more for observation and containment than an assault. Or they might be an advance force, staging before the rest of them got there.
“Gamble, Sky,” he whispered over comms. “I don’t think this is gonna work, Ace.”
“Nice timing,” she answered.
Sky flicked his eyes to the front door. A s
plit-second later it slid open, and he saw a figure standing in the entrance. Straggler. Kit. She had her hood back up. Gamble had updated him about her, but as he watched her come down the stairs, Sky stood by his original assessment; she definitely walked like a dude. Why was Kit walking?
Coilgun A and Footie Two were the pair of guards closest to the front, and they reacted almost immediately, shouting and gesturing at Kit, Coilgun A with his hand on his holstered coilgun. She just kept right on walking, head down, like she had nowhere in particular to be. Sky scoped in on the Headman. He and Heavy hadn’t done anything yet, but they were intent on the situation. The other pair of guards had stopped in their tracks, but they were still far enough around to one side that there was no way Gamble and the others would be able to slip out unnoticed. Sky looked back to find the guard had his coilgun out now, pointed at Kit, and she had her hands up.
“What exactly were you expecting her to do?” Sky asked.
“Run. Why, what’s she doing?”
“Pretty much the opposite.”
Kit lowered herself to her knees, and then placed her hands behind her head. Footie Two had the stunrod out. He eased his way toward her while Coilgun A kept her covered. Sky was too high up to hear what was going on, but from the body language it looked like they were talking back and forth. Was she giving them up?
“She’s talking, Ace. She’s talking to ’em.”
Footie Two had stopped about six feet away from Kit, and he turned back to look at Coilgun A. Coilgun A turned back and motioned towards the Headman. He and Heavy started approaching. Sky started sighting in again. Headman, Heavy, Coilgun A. Hopefully the grunts would just scatter and at least they’d get to go home.
“Finn, can you get a bead on those two around the side?” Sky said.
“Stand by,” Finn answered. This was exactly how it wasn’t supposed to go. Both sides just doing their jobs, and people ending up dead for it. “Yeeeah, I can get ’em if they don’t move too much more your way.”
“Check, I’ll pick ’em up last if I have to.”
“We going?” Finn said.
“Not yet.”
“Alright, on your shot.”
“Check.”
Kit laid back her hood, and then pointed away up the street, back towards where Headman had been standing. What was she doing?
“Sky, status,” Gamble said.
“Bad, getting worse,” Sky said.
And just as the last word was leaving his mouth, Kit was in motion. It was tough to follow exactly what happened after she closed in on the grunt, but somehow she ended up with the stunrod. There was a burst of shouting and commotion, and Heavy stumbled back a couple of steps. Sky snapped his weapon up and sighted in on Heavy, just as the guard was shouldering his weapon. But something made Sky hesitate, something almost reflexive, too fast to consciously process. If Heavy had wanted to fire, Sky had just given him the chance. But neither of them had pulled the trigger.
And now Sky saw why. Footie Two and Coilgun A were both on the ground, out cold, and Kit had an arm around Headman’s neck, using him as a shield. She had the stunrod held up right in front of his face, and he’d gone real quiet. Heavy was tracking her with his weapon, but Kit was doing a good job of keeping the Headman between them. She started backing slowly up, towards the alley across the street from Mister Sun’s.
“I’m losing ’em,” Finn warned. He was losing his shot on the other two. But that was actually good news. It meant they were moving towards Kit, which meant they were moving away from the back door.
“I think she’s actually gonna pull this off,” Sky said. It wasn’t going anywhere near according to Gamble’s plan, but if Kit could just get clear…
“Sky, what’s going on out there?” Gamble said.
“Get ready to move,” Sky said. “On my call.”
Kit was walking backwards slow and steady, maybe fifteen steps from the alley. Twelve. Ten. Coilgun B had his gun out, but his angle was worse than Heavy’s. Footie One just kind of stood there, slightly behind Coilgun B, looking lost. Headman must’ve been talking, judging from the look on Heavy’s face, but Kit just kept retreating towards that alley. Sky was going to lose her once she made that corner, but he didn’t want to risk repositioning at such a critical moment. He just kept on Heavy, watching the man’s face through that optic. Heavy was intense, grim. A total pro. Just waiting for his opening.
“Let her go, man,” Sky whispered. “Let her go.”
If Sky could’ve talked to her, he would have told Kit to just keep backing down that alley until she could make a lateral move. Dump the Headman and take off before Heavy got a clean shot. Unfortunately, Sky couldn’t talk to her.
The Headman went limp, and then violently ragdolled forward, straight at Heavy. But Heavy leapt sideways and dropped to a knee, and got two shots off before Sky could reacquire him.
“Sky?” Gamble called.
“Go, Gamble, move!”
“Moving.”
The other two guards rushed over to the fallen Headman, and Coilgun B knelt beside him, checked for a pulse. From the looks of it, Kit had hit him with the stunrod and then tossed or kicked his body at Heavy. Heavy was still on one knee, at least. Kit was gone, somewhere down that alley. No way to tell from where Sky was whether she’d been hit or not. Judging from the fact that no one was chasing after her though, he had a pretty good guess.
“Sky, Finn,” Finn said. “Precious cargo is away. We need to roll out, brother.”
“Alright, check,” Sky answered. He gave one last look at Heavy, still in his sights. It’d be so easy. But now it’d just be revenge. Heavy stood slowly and advanced cautiously into the alley, weapon still shouldered. “Sky moving.”
Wren was trembling, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, or the nerves, or a combination of the two. He felt it mostly in his chest, and no matter how hard he squeezed his arms into his sides, his ribcage just kept on vibrating like he had some kind of machine stuck inside. He pulled the hood up on his coat. It made it a little harder to see what was going on around him, but maybe that was OK. Wren was just focused on keeping near Mama anyway. And Wick. His job was to stay with Wick.
He hoped Kit was OK. He’d heard the shots, of course. But everything had happened so fast after that, and no one had mentioned anything, and he wasn’t supposed to talk or ask any questions. He’d always liked her, even though Wren didn’t know her very well. She’d been one of the first he’d Awakened, even before Mez, and she’d been the easiest to help. And now Mez was dead, and Luck, and now maybe Kit too. It seemed especially cruel, to him; like life had been twice stolen from them. The hollow promise of a second chance, snatched away.
The heavy quiet still seemed eerie, like the silence that falls after some background noise everyone had grown accustomed to suddenly goes away. And everything they did seemed too loud in it. Their footsteps, the jangle of their gear, even their breathing. Wren found himself breathing through his mouth, just to try to keep quiet.
The air was cold enough that he could just see his breath every once in a while, if he was looking for it, and there was enough light to see. For the most part, though, Wick was leading them through back alleys and narrow passages where the street lamps were fewer and the shadows were darker. If Wren had ever been down any of these paths, he certainly didn’t recognize them now. He wasn’t even sure which direction they were headed, except he assumed they were getting steadily closer to the wall. Wren also realized he had no idea how long it’d been since they’d left the Tea House. It seemed like they’d been walking a long time, way longer than it should’ve taken. But he remembered traveling with Three, and how sometimes when you were scared and tired, a few minutes could seem like an hour. And right now, Wren was a little scared, and really, really tired.
He bumped into Cass without even realizing he’d lost focus. Apparently they were stopping. A few steps ahead, Wick was crouched low, whispering something that Wren couldn’t make out. Wick turned
around and motioned for them all to get low. Straight ahead looked like a brick wall, so they were either at an intersection of alleys, or a dead end. They waited in silence for several minutes, or what seemed like it anyway. Wren heard Gamble whisper, and then a few moments later Wick did too. Talking to each other, probably. It was strange, the way they communicated. Wick had called it their secure channel, but Wren didn’t know how it worked. It wasn’t like pimming, exactly, and somehow it didn’t feel the same. It sounded funny; tinny, with static. Low signal, low profile. Maybe it was something they had developed to avoid attracting the Weir when they were out beyond the wall.
Gamble and Wick took turns, whispering back and forth a few times, and then Gamble came up from the back of the line and crouched down next to Wick. Wren couldn’t help but wonder if something had gone wrong. They hadn’t seen any patrols, or really anyone for that matter, since they’d left Mister Sun’s. Whether that was because Wick was such a good pathfinder, or because Finn and Sky were out there somewhere helping guide them around, Wren wasn’t sure. But this was the first time they’d stopped in one place for this long. Wren’s legs were starting to go to sleep.
Finally, Wick moved forward and disappeared around a corner, but Gamble turned to face them and held up a hand, signaling for them to wait. She seemed to be listening intently for something. After another minute or two, she nodded.
“Alright, check,” she whispered. “Wren first.”
Wren didn’t like the sound of that. Gamble pointed at him, and then motioned for him to join her. He walked to her bent double, and his legs were all tingly from the long wait. When he got to her, she put a hand on his shoulder and her lips right next to his ear.
“We’re going to cross one at a time,” Gamble whispered. “Wick’s waiting around the corner. I want you to go first, OK?”
“OK.”
“Here, look.” She leaned Wren out a little so he could see around the corner. They were in a small T-intersection, and beyond it there was a wide stretch of open ground ending at the wall. Almost there. Gamble let him stand up straight again and then said, “Just run straight across. Wick’s waiting right on the other side, OK?”
