Mountains and Buffalo.

Chapter 36: Heavy Preparations.

It was a bad day for stiff joints. It was a good day for stretches. While the crowd gathered around, making sure to catch the mercenaries in the wave of people, I stood by the corner of my residing floor, twirling my wrist this and that way.

Dozens of people whizzed by me, and after the final few exited, I followed suit. I woke up early today, much before the rest of the group, but felt as refreshed and energized as the adults. I didn't want to spearhead the crowd, as that would garner unwanted attention and a conversation with Pars. It wasn't as if I suddenly hated Pars, but I did not want a conversation.

I had to spend all available time, every second at my disposal, on one intense, enveloping activity: psyching myself up. And goodness knew that I would've never been ready if I awoke even a moment later.

"...Didn't take as long as last time."

With a conclusive sigh, I turned on my heel and headed toward the door. I was somewhat satisfied with my preparations, as the muscles in my shoulders felt as light as clouds. But I didn't dare let myself get optimistic– that would only make the upcoming event all the more challenging to endure.

"I hope you'll be as inspirational as ever, Lola. I need that kind of encouragement."

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I was dead last, just as planned, but it was evident that the plan required more forethought. Before I even reached the door, I heard the boisterous voice of a woman issuing a gallant speech. In other words, I was late.

I quietly opened the door and peeped inside the room. Lola's words were introductory, so it meant I didn't miss a lot, but I didn't weasel into the rest of the crowd just yet. I darted my eyes around to find two specific characters. I found the first one quickly, but the second one was never caught by my eyes.

It wasn't the time to fret about such a thing, however, so I shut the door behind me with care and tip-toed to the first person I saw.

"Hey, Juke."

"Eh? Ah, there ya are, kid. I wuz' wonderin' where ya were."

I didn't acknowledge his comment, O merely settled into my spot and looked at the speaker. Lola had no podium or a stand, rather, using a table as a means to highlight herself. I almost snickered, but the words she spoke beckoned my attention more than her humorous visage.

"Now then, let's not waste any time and discuss our battle plan."

I kept my ears wide from thereon. Any kind of chitter-chatter would be reserved for afterward.

"I've consulted my two Officers, and we've figured out a workable strategy. But any amendments or suggestions are more than welcome. What we have right now is a strategy with far less artifice than our previous one. We shall all split into four groups of six, as we only possess twenty-six able-bodied members, and we do so for several reasons: first, moving as a whole will make us susceptible to lumbering but powerful attacks, or worse yet, a crashing building. Second, our previous approach of stealth has made the Bringers wary, and they will be on much higher alert. Third, because they know our targets, the other pillars are bound to have their pathways monitored, splitting their forces, as they do not know which one we'll be targeting. Fourth, as being spotted will be inevitable, it's imperative that a sizable group of combatants are in each platoon. We'll map the routes and arrange the members later."

After a lengthy explanation, Lola scanned the room. If I had to guess, she was trying to gauge a reaction, but all she could hear was murmuring amongst the group. She grew a little irritated.

"Are there any objections or suggestions?"

One member raised their hand, and she pointed squarely at them. When looking over, I noticed that it was one of the mercenaries.

"Well?"

He cleared his throat while covering his mouth with a fist, then began to speak.

"You have a sound plan there, miss, but it fails to account for two things."

Lola raised a hardened eyebrow at the man but didn't object to further elaboration.

"For starters," he said, raising his index finger, "we mercenaries are not as familiar with the law enforcement here as we are with ourselves. I, for one, know a good many of them, but that isn't the case for a good other, and neither do I know the kind of men and women you command. To split us into groups of six would leave some groups with inner-communication deficits, and that's especially damning when dealing with Hard-Bringer, isn't it?"

His critique rang throughout everyone's ears. Even I was convinced by it, as imagining working with anyone other than Juke, Rover, and maybe a few select crowd members seemed an unnecessary modifier.

"That is a valid point. What do you propose, then," Dave asked.

"I'll reach that in a minute. Secondly, I must question the idea in nature."