Bartz looked at Preston with disdain. “You’re going to have to remind me again about the sanctuary.”
Preston could tell that Bartz wasn’t listening when they told him about it. As soon as they mentioned the word sanctuary he had tuned it out as an Adherent fantasy.
“You see, Mr. Bartz,” Rourke said, walking in front of the large display screen, his hair flopping to the side, “we’ve been following the whore from up on Monticello, figuring she knew about the Madison woman.”
Bartz’s brow knitted in confusion.
“A couple of us had a romp,” Rourke continued, “You know… to find out more about Monticello.” Rourke turned and winked at Jeroen. “Well, pillow talk is a funny thing. Seems like Euclid died a while ago, and Banks and a lot of other misfits have been living up there in Monticello ever since. Anyway, being a whore and all, locked up with those uppity folks, poor Beatrice felt like she didn’t belong. Woman are delicate creatures, you know—even whores it seems.”
Bartz’s eyes were building energy as his question continued to go answered. He looked like a raging bull about to charge. Rourke continued on, oblivious, a smile beaming from ear to ear. “Turns out she wanted some kind of protection, because she didn’t think it was going to work out for her up there. So we said okay, if she paid us of course. She offered us sex, because she had nothing else, which was like a really nice pudding, but we negotiated for inside information as the cherry on top. And wow, was that a good cherry.”
“Enough.” Thorpe cut Rourke off, seeing that Bartz could only take so much more of Rourke’s monologue. “It doesn’t matter how we acquired the intelligence. What Rourke is saying is we obtained information about Monticello as a base of operations for Lord Banks and a number of Yorktown bandits. We were going to raid it later today, in fact, citing the new laws we announced. But through our source we also learned about the sanctuary. It’s in the west, just past the Shenandoah Valley. It must have been a trove of weapons and tech for Banks and her people.”
“You needn’t worry, Mr. Bartz,” Gail interjected. “With the information provided by Rourke’s source, as well as other data points I have collected from the Lynchburg Hall of Records, I have identified the precise location of this sanctuary. I am about to use the weapon we discussed to eliminate it.”
“Good. Thank you, Gail,” Bartz said, relieved to have his question finally answered. But then he had second thoughts. “Wait a minute. This weapon. This is the missile you’re sending from orbit, from Friendship One? I thought you only had one of those… payloads as you called them?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Well then, no. I don’t think so. We talked about using that against the Essentialists if we had to. Grand Caverns, or maybe the SLS army camp. This sanctuary, it’s probably already been depleted of anything useful. It would be more useful to take out something else, maybe Monticello even.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” Gail said. “I can’t reverse the order to deliver the payload. The action is in motion.”
“Can’t you just press a button or something?” Bartz asked, surprised. “I thought you had failsafes against this sort of thing.”
“The payload and missile are Old World technology,” Gail explained. “One that couldn’t be improved upon or duplicated in orbit without additional resources. I’m sorry. When we win this conflict I will commission improved orbital weapons systems for Friendship One, with the help of you and your people, of course.”
Preston almost spoke up. He was sure Gail told him she could redirect the attack at any time, right up until the actual launch of the missile. Even afterwards she could redirect the missile in flight. He had seen the schematics for the orbital launcher and confirmed it himself. But what would be the point in lying? They were all in this together. Preston was sure there was some good reason for the discrepancy. It was possible Gail had a faulty circuit or something, like the time he found out she was reassembling bikes, of all things.
“Fine,” Bartz said with resignation. “But no more surprises Gail. Those guns, for instance, I want to be consulted before they are used on anything other than the SLS front. People in town are almost as scared of the guns as they are of the SLS.”
“Of course, sir,” Gail said. “We both want the same thing. We both want prudent progress.”
Bartz looked sour.
“I have video of the sanctuary attack,” Gail said. The display switched to a bird’s eye view of a plateau in the mountains with one solitary structure on it. It didn’t look like much. Then abruptly the plateau transformed into a growing mushroom cloud.
“Is that… a nuke?” Thorpe asked.
“Yes,” Gail said. “Small scale.”
“Oh,” Thorpe said. He frowned and scratched his head. Preston had to admit, it did seem strange. He was no naïve Adherent, but it made his skin crawl thinking about the fact that they were using these Old World agents of destruction. He tried not to.
Bartz was unimpressed by the sanctuary attack. “Gail, pull up the Seeville map. We need to clean up the situation in town right away.”
The Seeville map showed up on the screen. It was an aerial view of the city where Gail had superimposed icons to highlight events in hot areas.
“Right now the Barnyard attack has been neutralized, and we should have a handle on the mall soon,” Thorpe rasped. “The main concern is the SLS.”
“Zoom in to the western part of the city,” Bartz said.
The map zoomed in. Gail said, “there are about ten thousand SLS at the western limits of the city, and more are arriving. They disabled the Skyline outposts last night.”
Two icons flashed on the screen. Gail said, “As you can see, two concentrated groups have broken through the city limits and are taking positions. We have a number of automatic weapons set up that should impede their progress going forward. I am also sending four guardians as reinforcements. You will be happy to learn that enforcer casualties have been minimal so far.”
“I see,” Bartz said warily, looking over the map carefully. “I don’t want the SLS anywhere near the Barnyard.”
“Of course,” Gail said. “They have numbers, but with our defenses and superior weapons we should be able to halt their advance.”
“Good,” Bartz said again. He held his chin. “And I don’t want any more meddling from Madison Banks and her ilk. We need to stamp them out. Preston, I want you to go up to Monticello and put an end to their games.”
“You want me to go… in person?” Preston asked.
“Yes. No more equivocating. I have a feeling your old friend is behind a lot of this, the one you should have taken care of in Yorktown. It’s time for you to put him down for good.”
“I… I understand,” Preston said.
Bartz nodded, scanning the room. His head stopped when he saw Rourke Rama smiling back at him. “Rourke, since you have this… intelligence about Monticello, you should go with Preston for support.”
Rourke nodded compliantly, beaming his Cheshire grin.
It was true Rourke had acquired much of the intelligence, but Preston suspected that the motivation for selecting Rourke was more about getting his grating antics out of their hair, or at least away from Bartz.
“I think this is an excellent strategic move,” Gail said. “I suggest we also support Preston with two full platoons, four guardians, and the new electric vehicles for speed. They may have residual weapons from the sanctuary that we should be ready for.”
“Fine,” Bartz said.
Bartz looked at the map again, and then turned to stare at Preston expectantly.
“Okay, I’ll get going now,” Preston said, and he began gathering his belongings. Rourke wandered over to stand next to him, a rifle resting on his shoulder.