Solace & Taproots

Part 3 - Rising to challenges, rewards of risks, and some epilogues.

Outside of raw ordnance, one of Ronnie's more useful finds during the Black Tusk armory pillaging was a small collection of night vision equipment. Unfortunately, there was not enough to issue widely to every overnight garrison team. First priority went to the more distant early warning spotters, which left Bex grateful the moon and cloud cover were favorable that evening.

She got a clearer picture of the approaching group every time they crossed an intersection, out of the building shadows. They hadn't been reported by the sentries, so all anyone knew yet was what she could report.

That wasn't much, until the group transitioned between the third block out to the second. Sammie, bless her, had at one point helped rig up a motion detector to a handful of solar garden lamps, interrupting their photosensitive activation circuits such that both darkness and movement were required to switch them on. They were no floodlights — she was working on creating those from cannibalized consumer security cameras — but the sudden soft glow illuminating the intersection showed that the first three pedestrians had their hands together in front of them. Either pistols all in the exact same stance or bound... and they were followed by a half dozen Black Tusk assholes and one of their quad mech things. Her voice was laden with pointed concern... "Uhh, Ronnie?"

"Fuck." Ronnie clearly shared her conclusion "Lima Whiskey, Any Lima Whiskey, Oscar Whiskey one-one immediate. Sitrep." She paused for a three count. "Any Lima Whiskey, respond." Another three count. "Control actual, eyes on three possible Lima hostages under control of Black Tusk forces - minimum six infantry, one mech, approaching west gate." (There was no actual gate, but everyone called it that for expediency.)

Barry's voice joined in, from where he was stationed that evening at the "gate" checkpoint below. "George Whiskey confirms sighting." Here's hoping he had negotiator training, he might need it soon.

"Copy Oscar, George. Broadway actual notified. Stand by." Great. Bex truly wondered what kind of value Lassart was going to bring to this. Unfortunately, her expectations were soon pretty much met. She developed newfound sympathy for Barry, despite his prior career.

(Stories from Jaime and his friends from meetings colored her opinions about law enforcement as she transitioned into early adulthood, but she supposed protagonist cops finding themselves hobbled by incompetent higher ranks might be a realistic element to old procedurals.)

Barry was trapped between Lassart in his ear and the Black Tusk major from the tunnels in front of him, about 1/4 of the way into the last block in front of the checkpoint. (This was almost directly below her position and made for some interesting angles as she studied the force below through her scope.)

The conversation meandered through "unfortunate misunderstandings", "regrettable outcomes", "misappropriated property and proprietary technology", "the acts of one rogue traitor manipulating both groups into conflict" (Seb, she supposed...), and "guarantees of non-aggression".

Bex half-listened while swinging her aim from one Tusk troop to another, and stopped on one when she saw him holding a finger to his ear and looking slightly downwards. She knew that pose, she'd inadvertently used it a lot until Ronnie trained it out of her. Off VOX, she pointed it out. "Guy on the major's left. He's talking to someone."

Ronnie grunted from behind a high-angle shooting stance. (Bex was really grateful for the flexibility and smooth movement of Felicia's bipod.) "Yeah, kid. We're not seeing the whole picture here. Something else is in play."

Bex parked her crosshairs on the officer again. She couldn't see his face well, but something gave her a 'smug' vibe. Seconds later, chaos erupted in her ear and in the distance. "Control! Hostiles sighted near the east gate, reports they are moving to the Joint Task Force encampme..."