“He’s—” Olga shut her mouth and looked back at the medic who, with the assistance of a couple of guards, was trying to make the duke comfortable. “He needs an American hospital.”
“Well, he’s not getting one until we break out of here.” Carl’s mustache twitched ferociously. A messenger cleared his throat behind Olga. “Report!”
“Sir! We got them!” The man held up a handful of yellow-sleeved wires.
“Yes, but did you get them all?”
“These were all the fuses first squad could find in the cellars—”
A distant thud, like a giant door slamming shut outside, took Olga’s attention. “What was that?” she demanded.
“Don’t know.” Carl strode towards the nearest window. “Shit.”
“What is it?”
The security officer turned back to her. “That—” his thumb aimed at a rising plume of dust “—unless I’m mistaken, is the culvert to the river.”
“Oh.”
“My compliments to Sergeant Heinz, and you can tell him he did indeed find all the fuses in the cellar,” Carl told the messenger. “He’s to hold until the heavy weapons are in place, then proceed with task bravo.” The messenger ran off. “Unfortunately he was in no position to check the pump-house for charges,” Carl continued, gruffly. “Which is a problem. Because we’re bottled up in here under those guns, we have no water, our doppelganger location is besieged, and his grace is inconvenienced.” He didn’t say dying, Olga noted. “So if you have any suggestions, before I go and attempt to retake the curtain wall in the face of our own stolen machine guns, I’d like to hear them.”
Olga dry-swallowed, trying to work some juice into her mouth.
“Have you radioed Eorl Riordan to warn him off the American trap?”
“Yes. But he has his own problems. He won’t be able to relieve us in less than two days, and if the royal army is out there, that’ll be too late.”
“But he has a flying machine.” Olga shook her head. Then she smiled. Do I have to do all the plotting around here? “With your permission, I should like to talk to Eorl Riordan immediately. And you might ready such of your men as are ready to world-walk again. I think we might be able to deal with the enemy without mounting a frontal attack on those guns: and in the process, inconvenience the pretender mightily….”
Books by Charles Stross
The Clan Corporate
The Family Trade
The Hidden Family
The Merchants’ War