Meanwhile, outside, one of her partners in crime, dressed in a light brown full length raincoat, dark brown knee length boots and carrying a black backpack, had just finished inspecting the statues above the old wooden door on the west front of the cathedral and was slowly working her way around the walls of the building in a clockwise direction. Following the main wall east, she quickly arrived at the north porch. Ignoring the locked entrance, she had a fleeting look over her shoulder to see if anyone was taking any notice of her, and on confirmation that they weren't, she followed the porch's wall along to its corner with the main building, an area showered in shade, and ducked right down into the corner at ground level. Having slid the backpack off and placed it on the floor next to her, she made as if she was tightening the laces on her expensive brown boots, all the time retrieving another tiny package of C4. Arming the explosive and checking to make sure the red light was showing, she buried it behind some wispy, long grass up against the cathedral wall with the light facing towards the brick. It was most unlikely, she knew, that anyone would spot it. They'd have to be right on top of it, and even then it wasn't a sure thing. Having done her part, she straightened up, hefted the backpack across her shoulders and walked off in the direction of the city, all the time taking in her surroundings, and those she shared them with.
The third member of the grisly trio wore white trousers, a dark black jacket and a light blue beret which did little or nothing to contain the mass of dyed blonde hair that flowed down both sides of her head, and, after ambling through the main body of the cathedral whilst doing all the touristy things, pointing at everything to point at, sighing in wonder at everything to sigh at, arrived in the cloisters. Knowing that any wall would probably do, she prided herself on doing the job right, and that meant planting her 'package' close to, or on, the south wall. Whether this would be possible depended on a gazillion different things. Strolling along the footpath, gazing in and out of the stone pillars, still in infatuated tourist mode, all the time looking out for an opportunity, she reached the south wall, having to weave in and out of a group of Asian tourists who were having a snack, to do so. On reaching the wall she peeked down the length of it. Something caught her eye, a little higher up than most would care to look. Determined to get closer, she sidled her way along the wall, stopping beneath what had caught her eye. Up above her head, about two and a half metres high, one of the huge stones used in the construction of the wall stuck out, forming a tiny little ledge. It was barely noticeable and, because of its height, it would be impossible to see if anything were secreted there. So with the decision already made, she put one hand into her jacket pocket, armed the explosive and waited for an opportunity she hoped would come. Time ticked by, almost fifteen minutes in fact. And that's when it happened. A mother carrying her baby up against her shoulder whilst at the same time steering her child's pushchair, accidentally ran into one of the Asian tourists. This in itself wasn't enough to cause the kind of distraction that she needed, but what followed, was. As the dutiful mother apologised profusely, her child chose that exact point to throw up. And not just a little... with the kind of propensity only usually found in very grown up, very drunk, very large adults, usually after a kebab, or some other late night snack. Projectile didn't do the child's vomiting justice. It was everywhere, having covered at least two of the tourists, with four more suffering from residual splatter, and those around them leaping away frantically. It was an absolute farce, attracting the attention of everybody in the cloisters and turning out to be exactly what she was looking for. Knowing that nobody could possibly be watching her, in a total blur she pulled out the C4 and with a tiny little jump and at full stretch, placed the explosive on the ledge, making sure the red light was sitting fully against the wall so as to not give its position away. With the bedlam from the baby's explosive puke still going on, she strode off around the huge square, heading for the exit at speed, knowing that her part was done. All she had to do now was rendezvous with the others back in town and they'd be able to send the text and unleash the madness that would follow. Then it would just be a case of leaving the city and heading off to their next assignment... simple really.
25
Confrontation Bound
Just under three minutes... that's how long the battle lasted. I say battle, what I really mean is THRASHING! In all honesty they never stood a chance, and it was only pure luck that all of them hadn't died. Most of Tank's mismatched force lay dead, their remains scattered over the cobbles of the square, green dragon blood and guts splattered up against the pillars that surrounded the famed building. All that remained were Tank, Janice, Hook, one of the healers and a couple of elderly dragons, both of whom were mightily injured. For his part, Tank had fought valiantly, if only briefly, taking down two of the dreadful nagas before being magically overwhelmed and physically beaten, resulting in his left arm hanging limply by his side, the mother of all black eyes and a huge gash to his right leg that exposed not only ligament, but bone as well.
Janice hadn't fared much better. She'd managed to fatally wound one of the dragons, as well as inflicting serious injury to three more, but eventually, much like Tank, magic had taken Fu-ts'ang from her, and without him, she was defenceless and at her attackers' mercy. Broken ribs and a swollen ankle stood out amongst the array of cuts and bruises that littered her grubby complexion as she painfully tried to force in a breath.
Hook had shown just how full of courage he was, taking on a whole force of ten at once, first slowing them down with the heavy water from his clumsy backpack, before eventually beating them senseless with his rifle once they'd breached his defences. For someone facing beings over twice his size, and nightmarish ones at that, he'd acted fearlessly, his bravery far surpassing anything that had gone on anywhere during that day. With his backpack in tatters, he appeared the biggest mess of all, limping badly on what looked like a broken leg, all the time sporting massive cuts to his head that were constantly leaking blood down both sides of his face. It seemed as though every rugby injury he'd ever suffered had all come back to haunt him at once. The remainder of their force were in much the same state, badly hurt, at the mercy of their attackers. But for some unknown reason, they'd yet to be finished off, making them all wonder what lay in store. Nothing good, that was for sure.