He made Spy call ahead so when the battered truck finally trundled through the heavy steel gate Medic was already waiting for them, Engineer in tow and with a stretcher visible between them.
The woman, Shiloh, had again awakened but not said anything further; she was laying with her head back against the top of the truck seat, breathing shallowly and her face pale - Sniper at first thought she would have been better off sleeping the whole trip, but then the nagging suspicion of head trauma popped to mind.
He pulled the truck right up to the others, got out, and was immediately shoved aside by Medic as the man pushed his head into the truck to peer at Shiloh.
"Patient is still alive," he quipped, then jerked his head back as Shiloh took an awkward, across-the-body swing at him the moment she noticed his hands coming for her.
"Left side is the bad side," Sniper pointed out dryly. He dug fingers into the doctor's coat and dragged the man back. "Grab her by that arm and you might kill her from shock, if she doesn't kill you for hurting her."
"You know what? How about I just get out of the truck myself," Shiloh muttered wearily.
"Just move," Sniper grunted, shouldering in and giving Shiloh a look. "I got you in here, I can get you out." She didn't argue when he slid arms under her, even leaning forward to let him get his arm behind her back, then with him providing lift and her using her good arm to scoot, Sniper straightened and lifted her out of the cab of the truck and turned as Medic picked up his end of the stretcher. "Just get moving, I've got her."
"I'm not made of glass," Shiloh protested with a hiss as she squirmed to relieve pressure on her left side, which was pressed against Sniper's chest.
Engineer chuckled, grinning. "No, but you're full of it if how you look is any indication. I got this, go." He yanked the stretcher from the Medic and stepped back, still chuckling.
It didn't take but a few minutes to get across the bare dirt courtyard and down the short flight of concrete steps to the infirmary, which was little more than a clean room with the Medic's things set up inside. While the Medic bustled around, grabbing tools and materials, Sniper eased the woman down on what amounted to a table with a thin layer of padding on it; over their heads was a set of lights - off, at the moment - and an empty bracket into which the Medic, huffing, snapped what looked like a wide-bore gun with a fire hose attachment.
"Nature of injuries?"
Shiloh was staring up at the gun warily. "Uh, I got the shit kicked out of me by robots...what the hell is that?"
Medic connected a heavy hose to the back of the gun and flipped a switch; the thing hummed to life, a faint red glow visible up the barrel. "Medigun. But it is not yet time to use it." He reached down and yanked her shirt up - Sniper politely averted his eyes - and leaned down, delicately adjusting his glasses and almost rubbing his nose against the ruined skin. "Foreign objects within the wound, I will have to remove them first."
"Fine, whatever," Shiloh muttered as Medic turned away and came back wheeling a rickety table with surgical tools arranged on a towel on top of it. She swallowed and turned her head as he selected what looked like oversized tweezers, gaze landing on Sniper as the man glanced her way; Sniper focused on her face a moment or two, then looked away again as the Medic snapped the lights on and went to work plucking glass and who knew what else out of the woman.
The silence within the infirmary was broken only by the occassional click of glass or rock being deposited on the table by the Medic, or Shiloh's involuntary noises of pain; Sniper was trying not to stare at the procedure, but kept glancing back just to see how far along things were and kept finding his gaze locking with Shiloh's, the woman getting paler by the moment.
"Are you about done, doc?"
"Nearly. Why?"
"Your patient is about to pass out on you."
He smirked a bit as he saw the faintest flicker of offense cross her features, and she looked away. "M'fine..." he heard her mutter.
"Not sure why you're going about it with her still awake anyhow."
"Door is that way if you do not care for my methods," the german grunted. He dropped the bloodied tool onto the table and gave it a shove away, then reached up to pull the medigun closer. "Do not move, this may hurt." He gripped a handle above the barrel and pulled it down.
The red glow abruptly intensified into a steady stream of energy, hitting the woman in the solar plexus and making her go rigid in surprise and pain; there was a grating noise followed by three hollow pops as broken ribs snapped into place, and the shredded skin on her side began to rapidly scab over and draw together. Shiloh, for her part, grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, digging fingers into the padding beneath her with such force that a few fingernails scratched through and opened cuts in the plastic covering.
After a few moments Medic shut the gun off and pushed it up toward the ceiling; Shiloh, to all appearances, was limp on the table, tears running soundlessly down grimy cheeks and her breath coming in small, stuttering spurts. Without a word the Medic yanked her shirt up again and began prodding at the pink new skin, muttering to himself in German as he examined.
"Bandage and aspirin will complete treatment," Medic said after a few moments, turning even as he spoke to pick up the items off a nearby counter. Shiloh hardly seemed to register his presence as he wrapped her abdomen in clean bandage soaked in something that smelled impossibly clean. "Do not over-stress the new skin or it will break open. You are free to leave."
Sniper snorted. "Such a bedside manner you've got."
Medic retrieved the table with its tools and brought it over to the tiny sink set into the end of the counter along the far wall. "It is not my job to be polite, it is to keep you dummkopfs alive and functioning. Politeness only inserts steps into what is a straightforward process. Now, out - I've cleaning to do."
"Hey, Sniper-"
Sniper turned as behind him the infirmary door opened, enough to let Engineer's head poke through. "-Miss Pauling is wanting to speak with you, about Sandville and what you, uh, found." He looked between Sniper and the woman, the overhead lights glinting off his goggles and giving him a bug-eyed look.
"Guess I'll go say my piece, then. Did she say anything about our guest?" Sniper jerked a thumb toward Shiloh, the woman only just now making attempts to sit upright.
"Not to me, but I imagine she'll get to it once she's through with you. Spy's already in there - you head on in and I'll keep our guest company."
Sniper glanced back at Shiloh in time to see her swing her legs to the floor. "Right. I'll be back around to find you two once I'm done talking."
Engineer nodded and stepped back to let the door swing open wider; Sniper turned and left, the faint sounds of Engineer introducing himself following him out the door as he crossed the courtyard to head into the yawning door of a warehouse.
The facility they were using as a base must have been a military operation at some point in its history; it was surrounded by a heavy steel wall topped with barbed wire, sixteen foot tall in some areas, and the south-facing gate was reinforced and took forever to crank itself open. Along the western side were two watch towers that rose up above the buildings connected to their bases, each one easily twenty five feet tall at the least, with windows that allowed anyone in them to see out in all directions. There was this bland, empty dirt courtyard that ran between the western and the eastern buildings plus the warehouse that was near to the eastern buildings but not connected to them. The eastern buildings had a single large main watch tower that rose even higher than the other two, and within the base of the main tower was a heavily fortified door that led into an underground section that - Sniper suspected - was somewhere under the warehouse itself.
The buildings themselves were concrete and heavy glass, dimly lit, and smelled musty; truth be told Sniper didn't care for the place, preferring the open views from the towers, and couldn't wait to get out of here and to somewhere more interesting. He was especially tired of tromping across this damned courtyard, trying not to breathe as even his careful steps began kicking up a fine dust.
He was coughing and snorting when he got to the warehouse and wound his way around the decoy vehicles - old trucks, cars, vans, even a tow truck, all means to get around and not announce their profession to anyone - to get to the little room in the back right corner. It was made of a dark, oily wood, had a single dingy window, and inside it was a wall of electronics: viewscreens, monitors, panels of buttons and blinking lights, mics and recording equipment, and playback equipment.
Spy and Miss Pauling were seated in front of the playback panels, for once all but one viewscreen turned off making the dark little room even gloomier.
"Ah, good, come in and sit down Sniper, I want to show you something." Miss Pauling's voice seemed oddly chipper in the darkness, and Sniper fumbled his way into an empty chair.
"Play it again, Spy, please."
With a quiet noise of acknowledgement, Spy turned a knob and the sound of a tape rewinding filled the air, then he released it and pressed a button and the single powered viewscreen flickered then began to play back a scene.
Sniper leaned forward as the silent video played - he could see a very small section of what must have been the main street of Sandville from an isometric point of view, could see its citizens as they bustled about on whatever business they were attending to. He suddenly stiffened a moment, and jabbed a finger toward the screen. "Hang on a moment, look right there."
Miss Pauling nodded. "Yeah, I know, that's our 'friend' if what Spy tells me is true."
Shiloh, her bag slung over a shoulder and the rectangular case swinging from one hand, was coming down the street toward the camera's view. She was just passing the doorway of what looked like a bakery when the door burst open and a man came barreling out of it, colliding with her and sending them both to the ground in a tangle. He was in a dark jacket and pants, wearing a wide-brimmed hat that, at this angle, hid his face. The man didn't even stop to say anything, simply roughly extracted himself and almost trampled Shiloh in his attempt to get away; Sniper watched as a visibly annoyed Shiloh stood up, dusted herself off, and readjusted the shoulder strap of her bag.
The scene froze as Spy touched a button, Pauling resting a hand on his shoulder. "And, the next one, please."
The frenchman ejected the tape and inserted another, fast-forwarding through the footage until he froze the tape. "This one came from within the post office bulding and is damaged, but watch closely."
On the screen, the film flickering and stuttering, one could see the same man that had collided with Shiloh in the previous tape. He was standing in the doorway, pacing, anxiously checking his watch; on the floor at his feet behind him was a large box of some kind - the footage was black and white and so the box itself looked almost white on the screen save for darker segments that bore heavy rivets running along its sides at the corners. Its dimensions weren't clear due to camera angle, but it looked to be about half the size of a steamer trunk, and the man simply kept pacing until the tape went abruptly blank. Again, the combination of camera angle and his ridiculous hat obscured his face.
Spy wordlessly ejected the tape and inserted a third. This time it was from earlier in the day, showing a battered delivery truck - unmarked - driving up to the post office, and the mysterious box-bearing man climbing from the driver's seat. He raised his head and looked up and down the street, his face a mere glimpse of a bearded chin and a hooked, beaky nose poking out from under the brim of that hat.
"I didn't see that truck anywhere in town, did you?"
Spy shook his head. "I did not. It was not among the destruction - there were, in fact, very few vehicles present in the town at all."
"It looks like that may have been the courier the Administrator wanted us to intercept," Pauling said, looking between the two men. "And our guest is also the only one who may have seen this man's face, and possibly that box and truck. Did Medic fix her up?"
"She was sitting up when I left," Sniper replied. "Engineer's with her."
"I'm going to need to talk to her," Pauling went on, pushing her glasses up her nose. "And also report everything to the Administrator...she is not going to be happy that we didn't get what she sent us for, but if this woman saw the man we might still be able to track him down and see if he has that box with him still."
Sniper looked to Spy. "I take it you filled Miss Pauling in on everything, right?"
"As much as I observed. Our stories will only differ in that you were the one who found this woman, this Shiloh MacKenna."
"Oh, yes, tell me about that-" Pauling interrupted, stepping back and beginning to pace in the small room.
Leaning back, Sniper tossed an arm over the back of his chair. "Not much to it, was walking down the street and thought I heard something. Ducked into an alley to listen, and here she came flying through a door with a robot on top of her, swinging a hammer at it. I stepped out to help her, ended up there were five of the things - odd thing about it though, was they were all unarmed."
"Unarmed? What do you mean?"
"I mean they didn't have guns. They were Soldierbots, but didn't have rockets or anything but their fists. They were just brawling in the street."
"That is rather strange," Pauling said after a moment, chewing on her lower lip. "If it were just one bot I could believe maybe this Shiloh disarmed it either on accident or otherwise, but you said there were five?"
"I shot five, I can tell you that much. If there were any more than that they didn't come popping out at us."
Pauling kept pacing, crossing her arms as moments later she stopped and faced the now-blank viewscreen. "Yeah, I need to speak to this woman. Bring her in?"
"Miss Pauling, if I am not needed further...?"
"No, no, go ahead, Spy," Pauling replied absently.
Sniper followed him out, Spy heading for the eastern side of the facility while Sniper headed back to the infirmary. As he expected neither Engineer or Shiloh were there, and Medic was clueless on where they might have gone.
"Bloody great..." Sniper muttered as he walked back outside, staring around him in annoyance. Yet another thing to hate about this place was its size, and now it seemed he'd be searching the place...well, better start with the likely suspects, he supposed. His steps turned toward their mess hall.
"Name's Dell Conagher, ma'am, Engineer by trade. Call me Dell, if you like."
"Shiloh MacKenna, pleased to meet you. I'm guessing you're my assigned babysitter."
Engineer chuckled. "Nah, I wouldn't call it that. Tour guide, maybe - speaking of, anywhere you're needing to be? Looks like you could use a shower, for one."
Shiloh looked down at herself - bloodied pants, a rumpled and stretched shirt from the Medic's tugging, made worse by the tacky congealed blood that made it cling to her awkwardly. "A shower would be nice, yes. And I've got a change of clothes in my bag, if you don't mind us going back to that truck."
"Not at all, just you follow me." He reached the door well before she did, each steps of hers slightly wobbly and not exactly confident. "You want an arm to lean on?"
"I think I've got it, but thanks for the offer anyway. I feel like I got hit by a tractor trailer..."
"At least you aren't looking it, unless you count the bloodstains."
She laughed quietly. "I guess. At least I'm walking." She reached the door and stepped through it as he held it open for her. "Thanks. Mind if I ask where we are?"
"Well, mind? Not really the right question to be asking - I don't mind answering it, just realize I can't really answer it in a specific sense, not without getting you and me in a heap of trouble."
"And why's that?"
Engineer chuckled and leaned on the side of the truck as Shiloh clumsily hopped the tailgate and into the back. "Well, see, there's things around here we're paid not to share or talk about. Really, my own name isn't something I'm supposed to be waving around much."
Shiloh dropped into a cross-legged position, carefully picking up the rectangular case and popping the latches to peer inside. "Then why share your name with me?"
"Seemed like the polite thing to do."
He glanced over his shoulder - whatever she saw in that case seemed to satisfy her, as she latched it closed again and slipped the strap over her head before looping her hands through the carry strap of the duffel bag. "Want a hand carrying any of that?"
"Uh...this, I guess?" She slung the case off her shoulder and offered it to him; he took it and easily lifted it over the truck's side - compared to what he was used to hauling around the case barely weighed anything. "Thanks."
"Not a problem, ma'am. Now, you just follow me and I'll get you to the showers. I'll even sit at the door so no one walks in on you. Lucky for you our entire group ain't here, there's five unaccounted for."
"What are you guys, some kind of military specialist group?"
Engineer reached up to take his hat off and hook it to his belt, then tugged his goggles free and offered her a toothy smile. "Oh no, we're much better than that."
As blood-soaked as Shiloh had been, Sniper guessed he should have moved the bathroom up a bit higher in his priority list, but regardless he finally came across Engineer sitting outside of the lockerroom entrance.
"Guessing she's in there?"
"Yep," came the simple reply.
Sniper grunted and moved to lean against the wall next to the door, crossing his arms. "Everyone was here when Spy and I left, where'd the rest of our merry little band get sent?"
Engineer crossed his hands behind his head and tipped the chair back on two legs, bracing the back against the wall. "Well, Heavy and Pyro were sent out after something - what, I don't know. The rest of them are out on a supply run, though if you ask me a 'supply run' is simply an excuse to get Scout and Soldier out from under foot."
Sniper glanced toward the door as he heard the squeak of a faucet being shut off. "Hope they're having better luck than we did - another busted town and wild goose chase. This whole business has gotten pretty bloody stupid."
"Can't say I disagree there...not sure what we're supposed to be chasing down, bet we'd have a better chance of finding anything if we knew what we're looking for."
"Job used to be damn simple - see robots, shoot robots. That was it."
They both paused as the door opened; Shiloh was standing framed in the doorway, peering out at them, and Sniper took a moment to actually look at her.
She was a handful of inches shorter than him, he estimated, and her hair actually almost brushed her shoulders in length and had a touch of red to its tint; she had broad shoulders and a sturdy frame, tanned skin and a lean build, and pale brown eyes. She'd swapped the bloody clothing for a pair of plain pants and a collared, short-sleeved polo in a faded brown, and boots that had seen better days.
"That was quick," Engineer said into the silence.
She shrugged in response. "I've learned not to waste time when you get a chance at cleaning up."
Sniper stepped away from the wall and jerked a thumb in the direction he'd just come from. "Hope you feel up to talking, we've got somewhere to be."
Shiloh looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Right now?"
"Afraid so."
She reached behind her toward the duffel and Engineer leaned forward and brought all four chair legs back to the floor. "I'll keep an eye on it, ma'am."
She studied him a moment, expression unreadable, then signed in resignation and moved silently to stand beside Sniper, one hand moving to the back of her neck to brush away water dripping from damp hair. Sniper began to just walk, trusting she'd follow and then being satisfied when he heard her steps behind him.
They were halfway across the dirt courtyard when he heard her softly mutter "beginning to think you should have left me in the street."
He glanced over his shoulder. "Why's that?"
She shrugged, staring at some point on the ground somewhere ahead of him. "I've got a feeling I'm not going to like this conversation."
Sniper snorted. "I don't see what you've got to worry about-"
"-I'm in the forced company of a band of mercenaries," she interrupted. "I'm the only one who was left in that town that had a package you guys were looking for, and while I'm thankful you helped me out I'm not exactly thrilled about where this may be going."
He stopped, turning around to square up to her. "You're in the company of nine of the most skilled men in the damn world, sheila. If you were supposed to be dead, you'd be dead - we're not going to hurt you after going to the effort of getting you back here."
She stared him down. "You brought me back because you were told to, I'm pretty sure I didn't dream that up."
He jabbed a finger in her direction. "Not me, lady. You were coming with me whether you liked it or not. I don't just leave people behind."
Calmly she used a finger to push his to the side. "Fine then, let's just see if I'm right."
"Yeah, let's," he grunted, turning and continuing to stomp toward the warehouse. Bloody woman...
