“Take it to blade-work then,” Gamble said.
Finn nodded. “Haven’t had to reload one yet.”
Everyone stood silently considering. It would be hours of work, clearing and reinforcing each floor. And there was no telling when the Weir might actually launch their attack. For now they seemed to be content to stand out front, but Cass didn’t expect them to remain that way. Certainly when night came, the enclave would empty, and the full strength of the Weir would be upon them. And then they would have to fight until morning.
Images from the battle on the night they escaped Morningside flashed through her mind. They would never last.
“What about Lil?” Cass said.
Eyes turned to her.
“What about her?” Gamble replied.
“I could pim her. Maybe they could help.”
“I don’t see how,” Swoop said.
“I know they don’t look like much,” Cass answered, “but they lived in the open – in a village without walls – for years. They’re fighters.”
The team exchanged looks. Cass didn’t know what other options they thought they had. The sun was high, nearly noon already. “And they’re the only ones close enough to do anything.”
“Might not be time enough for them to get here and us to all make it back,” Finn said.
“Then we should probably ask them to get started now,” Cass said.
Can’t hurt to ask, Able signed. Maybe they know something we don’t.
Gamble gave a little nod. “Alright, do it.”
Cass pimmed Lil. She explained the situation as best she could, hoping to impress upon her how much trouble they were in – without making it sound like she was inviting them to certain death. After hearing it all, Lil told Cass she would talk to her people and see what they could come up with.
“She’s going to get back to us,” Cass told the others.
Five minutes passed. Ten. In the street below, the Weir remained pressed together, but they had thankfully given up their chant. The others had disappeared. Cass guessed they’d all returned to the shelter of the enclave. Mouse went to check on Wick again, and the rest of the team split time between watching the Weir and standing around restlessly.
Fifteen minutes. Still nothing.
“They’re not coming,” Swoop finally said. “And we’re losing on our own time here. I’m with Finn. Reinforce what we can, pull a staged retreat. Take as many of ’em as we can.”
“Roof as a final fallback,” Finn said. “Only one way up. Maybe we can choke the stairs with their dead. Make ’em change their minds.”
“If we blow the lower stairwell, we might be able to hold them there for a while.”
“How long do you think it’ll take to set up?” Gamble asked.
“Pretty much as long as we have,” Swoop said.
“Then let’s get started. Sky, keep eyes on, let us know if there’s any change. Mouse, stay close to Wick. Cass, Painter, I’m going to need you to come help.”
It was as they were crossing the roof back towards the stairwell that Lil finally pimmed Cass a simple message: “We’re coming.”
“Hold on,” Cass said to the team. “She says they’re coming. They’re on the way.”
“How long?” Gamble asked.
Cass asked Lil for an estimate, and communicated the reply. “Three hours.”
“And what’re they going to do when they get here?”
“Whatever you tell them to.”
Gamble thought for a moment, while the others stood by. “Mouse.” She waved him over, and they spoke together in lowered voices. “If we put him on a litter, can we move Wick out?”
“If we have to move him, yeah, that’s our best bet. But that’ll put us down three shooters.”
Gamble nodded. “You’ve got one?”
“Collapsible, in my pack, yeah.”
“You know when you whisper, I can tell you’re talking about me, right?” Wick called.
“We’re trying to decide whether to roll you down the stairs or just drop you over the edge,” Finn answered.
“Either one’s better than all this sitting around,” Wick said. He was trying to keep it light, but his voice already sounded thinner than usual.
“Swoop,” Gamble said, “how’s downstairs rigged?”
“Trip on the door, thirty-second delay off that on the stairs, plus another trip at the top.”
“How tough to rewire the door to a clacker?”
“Easy day… Unless they decide to come knockin’ while I’m workin’ on it.”
“Alright. Change of plans, gentlemen,” Gamble said. “We’re going to do some blockade running.”