One of the trickier parts of Sky’s job was keeping track of all the targets; not just how many and where they were, but how they were armed, their estimated skill level, who was in charge. If the team was ever forced to engage, it made everyone’s jobs easier if they knew who the biggest threats were and where the bad guys were getting their orders from before the shooting started. Cleaning up the Weir was a lot easier. One was pretty much as good as another when it came to target selection.
“Finn, you still got two back there?” Sky whispered over their secure channel.
There were two clicks in the channel, the sound of Finn quickly opening and then closing his broadcast without speaking. The bad guys were so close he didn’t want to risk answering.
“You in trouble? Gimme one for yes, two for no.”
A pause. Then: Click. Click.
Right now, there were six guardsmen prowling around the perimeter of Mister Sun’s Tea House, and Sky didn’t recognize any of them from before. In fact, he didn’t recognize any of them at all. He had eyes on four of them standing in a knot about thirty meters up the street from the Tea House. Two others had approached and disappeared around the back side. A few moments later, those two emerged from behind the building.
“Alright, I’m clear,” Finn said. “I think those two were doing a quick high-low.” Checking for entrances above or below street level.
“That’s a lot of attention for the night.”
“Might just be following up from before.”
“That’d be nice. You think so?” Sky asked.
“No.”
“Yeah.”
Sky had already identified the head man in charge, which he just dubbed Headman; one of those close-crop haircuts, square-jawed, perpetually angry guys who was so emphatic he had to use a fully opened hand to point at things instead of just a finger. Two of the other guards had coilguns, small sidearm-style jobs that usually went to low-grade officers. And at least one was toting something heavier. The last two were a couple of grunt-level foot soldiers, each carrying a stunrod.
Three officers and a specialist meant something more than just the average foot patrol. This was a unit. And they were loaded for bear.
Sky adjusted his optic and scoped each target in order of importance; Headman, Heavy, Coilgun A, Coilgun B, Footie One, Footie Two. If they were a seasoned team, he’d have to drop half before they broke. If he was lucky, he might just have to take the first two. He never counted on being lucky.
The six guards broke into three teams. Headman and Heavy stayed back while each Coilgun paired up with a Footie and started spreading out on either side of the building. But they were keeping some distance. Sky got the impression that they might be there more for observation and containment than an assault. Or they might be an advance force, staging before the rest of them got there.
“Gamble, Sky,” he whispered over comms. “I don’t think this is gonna work, Ace.”
“Nice timing,” she answered.
Sky flicked his eyes to the front door. A split-second later it slid open, and he saw a figure standing in the entrance. Straggler. Kit. She had her hood back up. Gamble had updated him about her, but as he watched her come down the stairs, Sky stood by his original assessment; she definitely walked like a dude. Why was Kit walking?
Coilgun A and Footie Two were the pair of guards closest to the front, and they reacted almost immediately, shouting and gesturing at Kit, Coilgun A with his hand on his holstered coilgun. She just kept right on walking, head down, like she had nowhere in particular to be. Sky scoped in on the Headman. He and Heavy hadn’t done anything yet, but they were intent on the situation. The other pair of guards had stopped in their tracks, but they were still far enough around to one side that there was no way Gamble and the others would be able to slip out unnoticed. Sky looked back to find the guard had his coilgun out now, pointed at Kit, and she had her hands up.
“What exactly were you expecting her to do?” Sky asked.
“Run. Why, what’s she doing?”
“Pretty much the opposite.”
Kit lowered herself to her knees, and then placed her hands behind her head. Footie Two had the stunrod out. He eased his way toward her while Coilgun A kept her covered. Sky was too high up to hear what was going on, but from the body language it looked like they were talking back and forth. Was she giving them up?
“She’s talking, Ace. She’s talking to ’em.”
Footie Two had stopped about six feet away from Kit, and he turned back to look at Coilgun A. Coilgun A turned back and motioned towards the Headman. He and Heavy started approaching. Sky started sighting in again. Headman, Heavy, Coilgun A. Hopefully the grunts would just scatter and at least they’d get to go home.
“Finn, can you get a bead on those two around the side?” Sky said.
“Stand by,” Finn answered. This was exactly how it wasn’t supposed to go. Both sides just doing their jobs, and people ending up dead for it. “Yeeeah, I can get ’em if they don’t move too much more your way.”
“Check, I’ll pick ’em up last if I have to.”
“We going?” Finn said.
“Not yet.”
“Alright, on your shot.”
“Check.”
Kit laid back her hood, and then pointed away up the street, back towards where Headman had been standing. What was she doing?
“Sky, status,” Gamble said.
“Bad, getting worse,” Sky said.
And just as the last word was leaving his mouth, Kit was in motion. It was tough to follow exactly what happened after she closed in on the grunt, but somehow she ended up with the stunrod. There was a burst of shouting and commotion, and Heavy stumbled back a couple of steps. Sky snapped his weapon up and sighted in on Heavy, just as the guard was shouldering his weapon. But something made Sky hesitate, something almost reflexive, too fast to consciously process. If Heavy had wanted to fire, Sky had just given him the chance. But neither of them had pulled the trigger.
And now Sky saw why. Footie Two and Coilgun A were both on the ground, out cold, and Kit had an arm around Headman’s neck, using him as a shield. She had the stunrod held up right in front of his face, and he’d gone real quiet. Heavy was tracking her with his weapon, but Kit was doing a good job of keeping the Headman between them. She started backing slowly up, towards the alley across the street from Mister Sun’s.
“I’m losing ’em,” Finn warned. He was losing his shot on the other two. But that was actually good news. It meant they were moving towards Kit, which meant they were moving away from the back door.
“I think she’s actually gonna pull this off,” Sky said. It wasn’t going anywhere near according to Gamble’s plan, but if Kit could just get clear…
“Sky, what’s going on out there?” Gamble said.
“Get ready to move,” Sky said. “On my call.”
Kit was walking backwards slow and steady, maybe fifteen steps from the alley. Twelve. Ten. Coilgun B had his gun out, but his angle was worse than Heavy’s. Footie One just kind of stood there, slightly behind Coilgun B, looking lost. Headman must’ve been talking, judging from the look on Heavy’s face, but Kit just kept retreating towards that alley. Sky was going to lose her once she made that corner, but he didn’t want to risk repositioning at such a critical moment. He just kept on Heavy, watching the man’s face through that optic. Heavy was intense, grim. A total pro. Just waiting for his opening.
“Let her go, man,” Sky whispered. “Let her go.”
If Sky could’ve talked to her, he would have told Kit to just keep backing down that alley until she could make a lateral move. Dump the Headman and take off before Heavy got a clean shot. Unfortunately, Sky couldn’t talk to her.