Morr was beginning to enjoy his armed BDF guards that Samples had assigned to him. He suddenly went from being the young inexperienced Director to someone the Executives listened to, closely. They were reaping what they sowed with Morrs takeover of the Bastion High Caste. Their complacency and arrogance had let the Bastion fall short on resources in all fields. The numbers on the monthly reports were only getting worse and Morr knew they wouldn’t have the stomach for another purge. Thankfully, Samples shared his logical perspective and they came to an agreement, much sooner than Morr had expected. Samples knew enough to keep the lower Caste’s in check until everything was ready and assigned his men to Morrs disposal. By the time Samples knew about the Gray Program it would be too late for him to do anything about it.

“Director Morr!” Someone yelled down the empty hallway that Morr and his escort were walking through. Morr turned around to see Executive Ridgeway hastily walking to catch up with him.

“Do you need something Ridgeway?” Morr asked condescendingly.

As Ridgeway got close one of Morrs guards put his hand out to keep Ridgeway at a safe distance away. Ridgeway furrowed his brow as if insulted by the act.

“What’s the meaning of all this?” Ridgeway asked through a winded voice from his hasty walk which likely strained his round body which rarely saw the inside of the Bastions fitness center.

“Meaning of what?” Morr replied, obviously understanding what he meant.

“The guards outside everyone’s office, the disappearance of Ottren, Haley, Carlos, and Turner. Those are just the ones I’ve heard about from other Executives since the communication system is closed and I can’t call anyone.” Ridgeway was breathing heavy. Not only from being winded but he was nervous. Morr could see it in his face that he was already regretting confronting him about this.

“Do you enjoy your position as Executive over Engineering?” Morr asked while he toyed with his watch.

“I mean, I, yes?” Ridgeway replied while pulling at the collar of his dress shirt in a nervous manner. Obviously realizing he was being threatened.

“Then why don’t you go back to your office and tell the other Executives if they enjoy their positions so much, they should keep doing the one thing they’re good at, nothing.” Morr turned around and left the man standing in the hallway, mouth gaping and hands cold from fear. They would learn soon enough what it took to lead the Bastion into the coming years. It wasn’t Venators, it wasn’t the Board, it wasn’t even the BDF, it would be the Gray that saved them.

“Sweetie, the Café was serving that asparagus dish you love so much, I brought you a plate.” Morr yelled into his apartment after leaving the guards to stand watch outside.

“Alex, you’re home late, like 4 hours late?” His wife asked while coming out of the lounge to meet him in the kitchen where he was opening the boxed dinner.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, it was a long day. We’re revamping a lot of systems and the communications network went down so super crazy day.” Morr answered back while hoping the Executives would be smart enough to keep their mouths shut about what he was doing.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I know this job is stressing you out. I should be more understanding.” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him several times with quick pecks on the lips.

“Let me go get out of my work clothes and we can have dinner, m’kay?” She smiled and headed for the bedroom.

“Hurry up, otherwise dinner is going to get cold when I come to find you getting undressed!” Morr flirted as she shut the door to the bedroom. Once she was gone Morr pulled out his phone, he needed to clean up a loose end.

“Yes, it’s Morr. Now that I think about it, add Ridgeway to the list too. he’s going to be a problem later if we don’t.”

“I missed you so much, don’t worry baby I’ll never leave you again.”

“Rose, please stop. Your helmets on speaker mode so everyone can hear you.” Mouse pleaded with Rose who was stroking his Repeater that a Militia soldier had just brought over to him on a cart as it was too heavy for anyone else to carry.

“You would have me hide our love? You really are a monster.” Rose joked while checking his weapons internal systems to ensure it was operational. While the rest of the team collected their weapons from very concerned looking Militia soldiers.

Baron had already collected his weapons and was in the Militia HQ with General McBride who was briefing the Venator on The Peaks defensive situation as they prepared for the inevitable attack from the Bastion.

“Three Hawk missiles, 2 M777 artillery pieces, a dozen modified Gauss cannons, enough explosives to level the entire mountain, one Abrams battle tank with 12 rounds of HE and 2 rounds of AP, 12 .50 cal machine gun nests modified manly for taking out Bastion Air, various old recoilless rifles, AT-4s that ‘maybe’ still work, and an assortment of a few other things scattered about I’m sure we can scrounge up from traders and soldiers hoarding equipment.” McBride rattled off the list of equipment Baron had to work with in the defense. It wasn’t going to be enough, but everyone already knew that.

Baron leaned over the map of The Peak and its surrounding area that was laid out on a table in the HQ’s planning room.

“The tank isn’t going to last 5 minutes. The moment they see that piece on the board they’ll devote all drones to taking it out.” Baron said, still thinking to himself about their options.

“Yeah, it’s mainly for scaring the local raiders and driving off the Gray with its machine guns.” McBride replied.

“We can never hope to control the air. Our only hope is to bluff the Bastion into thinking the air defenses are stronger than they really are so they’ll move resources into a ground push that we can control easier.” Baron moved several chess pawns they were using to indicate Militia troops around the map.

“The Drones have always been our weakness. We can hit them when stationary or moving slow with the .50s but the strafing runs have killed more of my men then BDF soldiers have, they’re too fast for what we have.” McBride mumbled as he walked over to a chair. His back making an audible pop as he sat down.

“The plan here has always been to grind the Bastion down if, err ‘when’ they come. We’ll never win a direct fight, so we’ve built trenches, fighting holes in the snow, more landmines than we have people, and our scouts have engineered some really nasty traps given all the years practice they’ve had with Gray and raiders.” McBride pulled out a clipboard from a drawer underneath the map table and read over it while he continued talking.

“We always figured they’d level the city with the drones, we’ve got the hydroponics farm, storage, and enough space for the non-combatants to hide underground. Basically, we’re counting on them expending resources leveling an empty city while we tear apart the ground troops until they leave us alone...or kill us all.” McBride leaned back in his chair as if this was a normal conversation. Talking about his home being destroyed. Baron considered it for a moment and as often as he’d raided survivor outposts it kind of was a normal day. Bastion coming in and destroying all they had built, they probably didn’t get attached easily.

“We can try to save the city.” Baron said to a surprised room.

McBride and his staff of Officers in the planning room smiled or chuckled at Baron’s announcement.

“You have more Hawk missiles in that fancy armor of yours Captain?” McBride smiled which revealed rows of broken teeth that hadn’t ever seen professional dentistry.

“Your 3 may be enough if we launch them all at once.” Baron pushed a bishop chess piece that represented the Hawk missile launchers to the Southern ridge on the map.

“Are you trying to help the Bastion? Better to hold them in reserve for priority targets ?” McBride was obviously joking but it drove the point home that no one understood what Baron was getting at.

Baron shook his head and leaned over the map table.

“The Bastion isn’t going to expect long-range anti-aircraft missiles because I sure as hell didn’t expect you to have those. The Bastion will send drones flying high and fast for recon once we shut off power to the jammers and they see us on satellite images. We let the recon drones fly over with the missiles hidden, then we haul ass and put them up over the Southern ridge. The Bastion is going to deploy troops close at first thinking the mountain will protect them from any conventional weapons you have. They’re going to be wrong, three missiles taking out their Coffin personal carriers right away is going to take the momentum out from under them.”

“Those are old Missiles, I can’t be sure that they won’t blow up the moment we push the trigger, much less hit the target.” McBride added.

“Even ‘if’ the Missiles all miss it’s going to shake up the Bastion forces inside those drones and we both know BDF soldiers aren’t one for suicide runs. They’ll fall back before they fly into a wasp’s nest.”

“Risky, everything we’re doing is one big bluff. We’re bluffing on having heavy AAA that’s so numerous we’re willing to throw it away from the start. We’re only hitting them with two artillery pieces and the crews are less than experienced with using the guns, the IED’s and traps are never going to take out enough to stop them completely, and to top it off we’re outnumbered.” McBride spouted off the handicaps they had, much to everyone’s cold realization.

McBride wasn’t one for happy endings, he knew how poor the situation was and saw the flaws in Baron’s plan. Baron, however, wanted them to have hope but he also knew that everything hinged on the Bastion holding its Drones in reserve. The moment they used them to their full potential it would be over in a matter of minutes. McBride had enough experience with the Bastion to understand the drones were a threat but not enough experience to understand just how deadly they could be on standing structures, underground or not. The Militia may have been accustom to using hit and run tactics but soon they’d need to win a standing fight.

The door to the planning room opened abruptly interrupting the meeting, as Rose squeezed through the small opening not meant for someone as tall or wide as him. The planning that had been taking place paused as everyone watched to see if he’d get through or take the door frame off the wall.

“I’m good, my bad, didn’t mean to interrupt!” Rose yelled at the room when he noticed everyone watching him. After he got through the other Venators came through much easier than him since they weren’t quite as big. Grinch was the last to enter and went over to stand in a corner away from everyone. Baron noticed this and made a mental note that he’d have to talk with him to make sure he was alright with everything. He knew he wasn’t, but he still needed to check on him.

Baron went over the plan again with his team and made minor changes with McBride’s staff as they all debated on the best use of there limited resources. The Peak had enough power for two weeks with everything running on low, but they agreed it would be best to shut power off after only 11 days which would give them enough power for radar and targeting systems during the fight. The biggest drain on the power was the jamming equipment the Militia had been using to hide the Peak from the Bastions satellite imagery. The jammers were designed and built by the Bastion residents that fled during the purge because they knew eventually the Bastion would start looking for them. Problem was always the power needed to run the systems. The Bastion knew that whatever the survivors were doing to hide their home base wouldn’t last forever if they kept hindering their search for power.

Baron hadn’t gone over it yet but planned on meeting with Freeman about leaving The Peak. He knew staying here would be a death sentence eventually even if they pushed the Bastion back one time, they’d return.

Rachel was working on getting a clean area for the Venators to stay, they weren’t as lucky as most Militia and needed a clean room to breathe without their suits. She had several workers with her to move cots into an existing cleanroom they used to use for food storage that would be perfect for the Venators. It was far away from where most Militia worked so less chance of an incident.

Rachel was checking off a list of items she’d need when she saw Major York and Captain Anderson. They were close to Mischoff and she had meant to meet with them and tell them what happened before someone else failed to tell them the whole story and only that the Venators tortured him. She got busy with everything going on in preparing for the defense though and hadn’t had the chance to track them down.

“Captain Wright.” Anderson nodded as he and York stood beside each other in front of her.

Rachel put her clipboard down on a table and gritted her teeth, she knew this was going to get ugly.

“You’re here about the Major?” She asked.

“You’re damn right we are.” York snapped back at her as she sighed, she was already tired and didn’t really have time for this distraction.

“I understand you’re upset, I cared for him too.” She tried to sound patient and understanding to help calm them down, it didn’t work.

“Right, you cared so much for him that you let his killers inside. Kasey told us about how the Venator Captain crushed his ankles. You really let them get away with that?” Anderson folded his arms across his chest and spoke in a demeaning tone, meant to hurt her.

“What choice do you think either of us had? I was tied up on the floor just like Kasey and the Venators, they never had a choice either. You know the stories about them and what they are. You really think it was personal?” Rachel threw her hands up and shook her head, frustrated.

“So just forget about all they did, just let them do whatever they want?” York yelled, which made the workers that were still fixing the room stop and watch them.

Anderson noticed them watching. “All of you, out.” He ordered.

“No, keep working.” Rachel ordered back, not wanting to let them walk over her like that and not wanting to be alone with the two aggressive Officers.

Major York smiled, “She’s a Captain, I’m a Major, get the fuck out.”

Rachel swallowed through the lump in her throat as the workers all filled out the door at the far end of the room.

“You’re going to tell us exactly what happened in the bunker and then you’re going to tell us everything you know about the Venators.” York took a step towards Rachel while he growled at her.

“I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.” Rachel barked and turned around to go out the same way as the workers went. As she took a step away from York, he reached out and grabbed her arm pulling her back.

“Let go of me!” Rachel screamed.

“Not until you answer me!” York yelled back.

Rachel tried to push York away from her, but he was much bigger than her and wouldn’t budge. Anderson took a step towards Rachel with his arms outstretched to grab her. Before he could reach her he was suddenly flying in the air towards the wall with a Venator standing where he had just been.

Boot had been walking to the room to see if Rachel needed any help moving any equipment. He was supposed to be in the planning room with everyone else but decided it wouldn’t hurt to stop by here first. As he got close he heard Rachel scream and started running.

York, still holding onto Rachel turned to the armored figure and his mouth dropped open in shock. He let go of Rachel and started backing up but bumped into a table, stopping him.

“Wait, wait, wait!” York stumbled over his words as armored hands grabbed his head and forced it into the wooden table he had bumped into. York’s face slammed into the table, which broke into splintered pieces from the force of York’s head going through. He collapsed on the floor under the table with the splinters and broken pieces of table covering him.

Boot stomped over to Anderson who had just gotten up off the floor, Anderson raised his hands up and threw a fist at Boot who didn’t move. The fist connected with Boots helmet and the sound of bone cracking filled the room. Boot pushed Anderson back against the wall he had just been thrown into and drew his fist back, ready for a punch.

“Stop!” Rachel’s voice halted Boot before he could strike Anderson. She walked over to Boot and put her hand on his arm that was still holding Anderson.

“It’s alright.” Rachel said to calm Boot who she could tell was breathing heavy.

A second past where Boot steadied himself, he eventually let go of a very nervous Anderson who went over to help York up. The two injured men then started limping for the exit.

“If I remember correctly you got hurt in a fight at the cantina, right?” Rachel spat the words at the pair before they exited, Anderson turned his head around and nodded before leaving the room.

This left Rachel alone with Boot. His chest was still raising several inches with each breath as the adrenaline was subsiding in him.

“Thank you.” Rachel said through the silence.

Boot looked around the room, not knowing what to say.

“I didn’t mean to break the table.” He replied.

Rachel smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, it’s your table, not mine. This is where you guys are staying.”

Boot didn’t hear a word she said, he was too busy staring at her perfect smile.

“Let’s keep this between us, okay?” Rachel said as she started picking up the pieces of the broken table with Boot quick to help her.