We split into three groups. Agni leads a small detail to the barracks to restrain any guards still in the process of getting ready, hopefully without bloodshed. Margie takes half the remainder to the wall; the guards inside will eventually realize something's going on in the courtyard, and her team will be waiting to ambush them when they emerge. With luck we can keep the bulk of the fortress's complement bottled up in there until it's all over.
Jena and I, meanwhile, take everyone who's left to the commandant's tower. I'm not particularly happy about this arrangement, but I need to secure the water-of-life for Mercy, and Jena can't be trusted with any assignment that involves patience. So when we stream out of the armory I follow the woman with the bloody knife and her now-heavily-armed psychos.
The first indication that someone has caught on is when a rifle's crack rings out and a shower of dust erupts among the running prisoners. A second shot catches a woman in the leg, and she goes down swearing. Someone points and yells -- I can see two guards leaning out of a window high in the commandants' tower, sighting fresh rifles on us. A dozen prisoners fire back, but marksmanship is not a life skill for miners. Bullets pock-pock-pock like hail all across the tower, none coming close. A return shot drills a scrawny prisoner through the bridge of the nose, spraying gore across the sand.
"Forward!" I shout. "Get to cover!"
I'm not a military man, but standing around in the open while they shoot at us from a high window is obviously not a great plan. Jena shouts agreement and our team runs for the base of the commandant's tower; Margie and her people head for the wall. Back at the armory, Agni drops to one knee and takes careful aim; when her rifle cracks, one of the guards above loses his balance and tumbles three stories to splatter in the dirt.
The tower door is solid and probably barred from the inside, but that's why we brought Crank. Crank is one of Jena's people, big as a bull roach and about as bright. He lumbers forward, picking up speed, and hits the hardened chitin of the doorframe like a human battering ram. The impact rips the door clean off its hinges. I hear gunfire from inside, but rather than let the door fall Crank grabs the edges, holding it in front of him like a shield. It jumps and shudders with the impacts.
Jena squeezes around Crank, whooping, with the most enthusiastic of the prisoners at her heels. By the time I reach the empty doorway, Crank has discarded the remains of the door and four guards have been cut to ribbons.. One of the prisoners is dying noisily on the flagstones as well, but Jena doesn't even stop to look at her.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
"Upstairs!" she shouts to her crew. "Find that fucker and keep him alive until I can peel his skin off!"
The prisoners roar in answer. I wait as they charge past me, taking the spiral stairs three at a time. More gunshots from up above indicate further resistance, but there can't be that many guards left in here.
"Sometimes," I mutter, "the mark takes the bait too hard…"
I kneel to make sure the shot woman is beyond saving. As I get up, Agni slips in the broken doorway, breathing hard.
"Didn't catch anyone in the barracks," she says. "I sent the others to help Margie at the wall, but I figured you could use help riding herd on Jena."
Meaning, probably, that she figures Jena is most likely to slaughter anyone who surrenders, and she wants to stop that if she can. Fine by me.
"I think she's run into difficulties," I tell her. The gunfire continues from two floors up, but no farther. "We have to get into the commandant's office."
"I saw the water-of-life when I was in there," Agni agrees. "He has it in one of those show-off jugs. And he'll have the transect in there too."
The transect. I'd almost forgotten about that. If he hasn't already sent word to the City, every passing moment makes it more likely he will. "Let's see if we can help, then."
***
The prisoners have got bogged down at a choke point on the third floor. A narrow corridor connects the main stairs to a smaller set leading up to the commandant's rooms, with offices on either for the ranking guards of the fortress. Jena and her crew are at one end of the corridor, crouched on the staircase, while at least three guards are at the other end frantically loading pistols. Two bodies, one still writhing, testify to the fate of the first attempt at a rush.
"Kal!" Jena says. " something. These fuckers thinks they can stop us."
Rifles cracks and bullets sing past just over our heads. I look speculatively at the office walls, then back at Crank.
"Think you can break that?" I ask him.
His lips thin, then he gives a decisive nod and grunt.
"On three, keep their heads down," I tell the others. "One, two, three!"
Agni joins the prisoners at the top of the stairs and together they open fire, sending out a fusillade that forces the guards at the other end to keep their heads down. Crank steps past me during the brief pause that follows, slamming shoulder-first into the wall of the office. As I'd suspected, while the outer walls of the tower are stone, these are just cheap chitin-and-glue partitions. A big section of it gives way with a crunch and a spray of powder.
That leaves a hole into a small space with a desk and a set of filing cabinets. Crank makes his way across and picks a spot on the opposite wall, ready to repeat his trick. Jena, Agni, and I follow closely while the others continue to exchange fire with the guards. At my signal, Crank hits the wall and breaks through, emerging on the guards' landing covered in white powder like a ghost out of a fairy story. One of them turns to him, open-mouthed, and he punches her so hard she knocks one of her colleagues down. Jena tackles the last one before he can shoot, stabbing him in the gut over and over. The rest of the prisoners surge forward.
"One more floor," Agni says, looking at me.
"He's up there." Jena's eyes are shining with bloodlust. "Come on!"
