The smell of fresh bacon roused Elizabel from a surprisingly sound sleep. By the time she made herself ready for the day and wandered into the kitchen, her three underlings were already seated around the table and chowing down.

Panos looked up and said, “I hope you don’t mind we didn’t wait. You said we had plans today, so figured best to get rolling.” He threw a thumb towards the stove. “Plenty of leftovers there, and still warm. Help yourself.”

Elizabel grumped at the assumptions taken, though not loudly, as she loaded a plate with over easy eggs, bacon, toast and poured herself some water for tea. Elizabel was accustomed to early days, as the business sector waits for no one, though she was no fan. Having a meal ready first thing in the day was something she could get used to. Unless.

She threw a suspicious look at Panos. “You do know it will take more than tea and crispy bacon to buy mercy after the showing yesterday?”

Panos shrugged. “I wanted a good meal anyhow, the rest is just gravy. Besides, the way I figure it, Cassmere is gonna bear the brunt of the blame for that mess yesterday.” He threw a wicked grin at the goblin and continued, “I’ll gladly suffer some to watch that peacock take a few licks.”

Elizabel pondered that as she ate. Not the best sign as far as where the team stood with each other, but she’d worked with worse. Only one thing to do to correct- make everyone unhappy and herself the cause. They really didn’t have much in the way of direction yet, not specific ways to prepare, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find something unpleasant yet productive.

She mopped up the remnants of the yolk with the toast as the demonkin cleaned the dishes. “Lest you think I’ve forgotten, Cassmere will lead you two in combat training today.”

Eisley swallowed and said, “Dark Mistress, while I would never question your wisdom, it occurs to me that my time might be better spent studying-”

Elizabel cut him off. “When did you last need to cast a spell?”

“Last week, but I was in jail for the remainder of the week.”

“Noted. And how did the casting go?”

Eisley looked confused. “Adequately, I suppose? At least until the guards arrived, though that was the fault of-”

Elizabel waved away his excuses. “And the last time you had to fight? And how did that go?”

The imp looked away and didn’t answer. Instead, he shuffled towards the training room.

With a nod, Elizabel said, “Any other objections?”

When no further complaints arrived, Elizabel left her underlings and moved to the runic room, fresh tea in hand. As she settled in her seat, she was less than surprised to find another letter laid neatly squart in the middle of the runic.

She rolled her eyes as she examined the inevitable seal of The First on the envelope. Security in the hideout was lax, trusting entirely to the wards and apparently undesirability of the place. Still, had she had watches set, she would be willing to bet that they would have seen no messenger. If she had been sitting in this very chair, the envelope would have surely arrived the moment she glanced away.

Dacien had more ability than sense at times.

Elizabel cracked the seal open and scanned the contents. Her eyebrows rose as she read.

In one week, a train would be passing through an isolated stretch of rail outside of city limits. It would be hauling, among other things, a prototype mana capacitor. It would, apparently, hold enough charge to single handedly work as a backup to the city’s magic grid for several days.

Elizabel grimaced. A moving location, a well guarded, high-profile target the size of a boxcar. And three screw ups to pull it off with.

She took a deep drink of her tea and wished she had something a bit harder. But even as bemoaned her current position, her mind whirled. They had a week to prepare, and a team that The First deemed worthy to accomplish the job. And they would.

She pulled up the jobs menu on the runic. The prototype job was already in the system. Once again, she was impressed with the enchantments, and hoped she would have it long enough for it to grow into it’s potential- and she into hers.

The schematic came up right away. She ignored the crew member slots for now. She wasn’t sending anyone yet; she just wanted to get familiar with what lay in store. She could worry about specific plans of action later.

It seemed they would be primarily interested in the front of the train. The convoy began with, of course the engine and crysoal cars, but following that, it was less than standard. The third car was labeled as “forward guard car”, and it lacked the interior details that the previous two had had. Instead was a note reading Level Two Warding, and another Two-Four Armed Guards.

The next, several cars were all similarly warded. In fact, everything related to her mission was. She grit her teeth. She had the power of time, knowledge and planning at her fingertips, and yet her she was with the barest scraps of information.

It wasn’t all empty, of course. Behind the forward guard car, she would see one labeled “Auxiliary Security” and notes mentioning a backup generator and security controls. She could see rough estimates on manning in each car. She could even see details on the couplings that connected one car to the next.

She tapped her fingers on the desk as she stared. Idly, she plugged her three minions into the slots provided. New options appeared throughout the schematic, and many of the previously marked security features gained drop down menus.

On the right-hand edge, a box had appeared. Choose Entry Method, it read. Underneath, several options were listed. Boarding, infiltration, teleportation- the options varied wildly and most were grayed out.

Out of curiosity she selected one of the unavailable options.

Boarding

Requirements: Vehicle, Driver (35)

Optional: Demolitions (35)

Both vehicle and demolitions were listed in red. She shuddered at the thought of providing explosives to someone like Cassmere. Best not dwell on it.

Once she dismissed the unavailable options, just four remained: Aerial Insertion, Drop Point, Security Evasion, and Undercarriage Adhesion. None of which were particularly informative on what exactly they entailed by name alone, so she went down the list.

Aerial Insertion

Requirements: Gadetry (45)

Optional: Demolitions (35)

Recommendations: Fitness (1+)/every member

Drop Point

Requirements: None

Recommendations: Fitness (5+)/every member

Security Evasion

Requirements: None

Recommendations: Stealth (10+)/every member

Undercarriage Adhesion

Requirements: None

Recommendations: Fitness (15+)/every member

The finger taps on the desk resumed. That didn’t clear up a whole lot, though she could safely cross out Undercarriage Adhesion. The thought of Eisley clinging to the bottom of a train, his brick of a tome on his back, weighing him down and threatening to pull him to the track? It’d never work.

Likewise, Security Evasion seemed like a poor fit for her group as well. She had only one that had, as far as the runic was concerned, sufficient training in stealth, and that was Cassmere. It would be a hot minute before she’d trust him not to make a scene again.

So that left Aerial Insertion and Drop Point. She was torn between the two- on one hand, Drop Point recommended more fitness skill than her minions currently possessed, and there wasn’t enough time to rectify that. Aerial Insertion had recommended fitness as well, though that could be met, if just, before the job. It did, however, rely on Cassmere performing his task at the very limit of his skills.

Just how much did recommended values matter, anyhow?

Despite her misgivings, she called her underlings up to join her. They did work for her, of course, but she never saw the value in keeping her team in the dark, unlike Regina. It was one of the many ways in which they’d differed.

She explained to them the job ahead of them, the layout of the train and the two remaining entry options. All three were uncharacteristically quiet as she explained. At least until the end when she professed her ignorance on what the two choices actually meant.

“That’s easy,” said Panos with a laugh. “For Drop Point, you just find a point to drop. Aerial, well, you find a point and drop real careful like.”

Eisley glared at his companion. “Dark Mistress-”

“Suckup,” growled Panos under his breath.

“Dark Mistress,” Eisley continued, with a pointed look away from Panos, “For a Drop Point entry, one finds an overpass near the target location, and, well, jumps.”

“Onto the moving train? What if you time it poorly?”

Panos grimaced. “If you’re lucky, it hurts. A lot.”

“I see.” Elizabel turned back to Eisley. “And Aerial Insertion?”

Cassmere elbowed Eisley out of the way. “Just leave that to me, Dark Mistress. It’s our best option anyhow. This week though, instead of continuing on with combat training, I suggest a new focus- grip strength.”

* * *

The week passes in a blur of activity and preparation.

Imps and goblin alike hang from a rod. Sweat drips to pools on the floor as time crawls onward. Eisley is so red in the face his normally purple skin is magenta. His clawed fingers slip one by one off the bar and he flops to the floor.

Elizabel claps. “Again!”

* * *

The four are seated around Elizabel’s desk, she in her chair, and the others in hastily acquired folding chairs. All eyes are on the runic, currently displaying the train schematics. Panos jots down the model of the coupling. Eisley notes likely firms who would have cast the wards. Cassmere studies the route and nearby terrain.

Elizabel studies her underlings.

* * *

Elizabel stands in front of the stove, wearing Panos’ apren. Smoke rises from a pan of aggressively cooked chicken. She declares it edible and serves it to the minions napping in place about the table. Even as they rest, their hands twitch as they dream about holding on longer.

* * *

Panos and Cassmere hunch over a sketch of a coupler. They gesture at the diagram and mime the movements that would be necessary to detach it. Behind them, Eisley lies in his rack, tome open to glyphs and wards. He half mumbles as he reads, causing the book to glow before he recalls himself.

* * *

The demonkin are once again suffering through grip training. Elizabel stares at a stop watch. “Three minutes left. You’ve got this.”

Panos looks strained, but holds steady, and Cassmere merely looks bored. Eisley shakes as the effort wracks his body, but he holds.

“Two minutes!”

Eisley’s hand slips off the bar. He holds a moment longer before collapsing on the floor.

* * *

The four gather around the runic. Only Elizabel holds notes, and she points to each of her underlings in turn.

“Then I decouple the crysoal car from the forward security car.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll be drilling a thaurmatagic convergence into the wards.”

“After that, I’ll be ready to neutralize whomever is inside.”

* * *

The last day of their preparation rolled around. Elizabel stood, stopwatch in hand, and her three underlings held on to the rod above them one last time.

While she would never admit it to them, she was glad she was not the one having to cling on with naught but with hands. She had many skills, and none of them involved immense physical strength.

“Two minutes,” she said as she eyed the three before her. Cassmere was doing pullups, cocky bastard that he was. Panos was holding fine as well. Eisley, though. This would be the test. They had an alternate plan if he couldn’t hold, but to be frank, none of them were overly optimistic in their ability to pull it off. He had to hold.

“One minute.”

Eisley was shaking, but didn’t look in any danger quite yet.

“Thirty seconds.”

The mage screwed up his face and tightened his grip. Elizabel hid a smile. He had it.

“And, time.”

Panos and Cassmere dropped, cheering. Eisley held for another ten seconds before releasing his grip.

Elizabel gave him an approving nod. “Plan’s on, lads. Rest up.”