Pleasantly Depressed – Chapter 23 "Of Shorthand and Fireballs"

by Skandranon

Warnings : Excessive use of the F word. Some death.

He had an excellent view from here. The overturned truck provided ample cover, and the side mirror was at a perfect angle for him to watch the barricade. The position might be uncomfortable, but such was the price to pay for tactical advantage.

He was rather depressed by what he saw. Very few sentries spread out haphazardly, and making no effort to conceal their locations. The three closest were even clumped in a group with their backs turned, probably talking. The wall itself was a real obstacle, but not an impossible one. As long as they had the element of surprise, it would be a cinch. If they lost that, though… well, those cannon turrets weren't exactly a welcome mat.

A "Kyou!" and piercing pains in his leg signaled Grrface's arrival. The moomba crawled up to his waist and cheerfully dropped the moist scrap of paper in his lap.

"Gee, thanks."

"Sebrral!"

At least Squall was allowing him to be useful by watching the wall. The gunblader had run off to 'fetch supplies', as he put it. Irvine had tried to tell him that there were no supplies to be had in Timber or he would have them, but as usual he was ignored by the 'man on a mission'.

He wasn't too fond of the idea of an attack on the wall. If he had wanted to leave, he could have pulled it off a month ago while his troop was still here. He'd chosen to stay, to protect the absolutivity of the barricade. Those in charge couldn't afford the possibility of it being breachable. And now Squall wanted to tear it down.

The note this time read "No exp, si stat, spider?" Balamb SeeD shorthand. Irvine was more fluent in Galbadian slang, but he knew it meant "Can't find any explosives. I've got some status magics. Do you think we could climb the wall?"

He doubted explosives would do much damage anyway, but once on the other side, status effects would come in hand nicely, especially given what he'd seen of the sentries' coordination. He wrote "May. Sen mal coor, no eve" on the back of the slip. "Alright fuzzball. You're going to take this to Papa Squall, alright?"

"Ohwgos?"

"Sk-w-aaaaaall."

"Qebejee?"

"Squall? Daddy? Owner guy?"

"Nmerg?"

"…Laguna?"

"Ra-GOOO-fff!"

Irvine held Grrface's jaw shut and winced, but the guards hadn't heard. "Yes. Laguna. Yes. Hush. Go find Laguna." He let go, and the moomba shot away in a dash of orange fur, off to find its master.

Sighing, he turned back to the mirror, and caught sight of a new figure patrolling the wall. So, they had captains on duty afterall. The red uniform got the salutes expected from the sentries, but the fellow didn't bother to stop and talk with his lessers. Typical arrogance of bad training.

The idea occurred to him that maybe they could even slip out unnoticed, if they went by dark. Watch the wall for a few days to learn who stayed where, learn the captain rounds and guard changes, and aim for a weak spot. It worried him that he might not be the first to think of this. But security had been much tighter back then. It was only this lax now because they thought everyone inside was dead. And for that matter, how had Squall gotten in without alerting them?

He kept watch for another hour before Grrface returned. This time the sticky message read "Bethu juugo." Be with you in… fifteen? Charred code.

He had barely finished reading it when Grrface leapt off of him and dashed over to his owner's boots to rub against them affectionately. Squall hoisted him into a pocket, with a muttered "Moombas are bloody slow."

"Anything?"

"Some Sleep and Confuse from draw points. Gasoline from a downed car. Limited med kit. And a mess of odds and ends I left at the safehouse."

"It's a library, Squall."

"It's our safehouse."

"We're safehousing in a library. You don't have to be so official."

"Whatever. See anything useful?"

"At least one captain on duty, and he patrols, but he's your typical incompetent variety. I was thinking a night raid. Up, over, and out before anyone notices."

"Sounds good. You up for running?"

"Pfft. Walking, barely. You want to carry me?"

"If it comes to that. By the way, your shorthand sucks."

"So does your mother, I hear."

"You would know."

"Oh, that's real mature."

"Whatever." Squall curled up next to him against the truck and concentrated retying his bootlaces. "Keep a watch out. I'm taking a breather."

Irvine snorted, but did as asked. There wasn't much to look out for. Down the street he spotted a rat shuffling through debris. He kept an eye on it. Animals were great warning systems. If it bolted for cover, then something was coming. "Squall… I'm not so sure we should try to leave."

"You'd rather rot here?"

Irvine flicked his ear, which earned him a growl. "I came here for a reason. A lot of my troop died for that reason. To prevent the baddies from leaving. If we leave so easily, which I'm guessing we will, what does that say about the baddies' ability to walk out whenever they feel like?"

"Us leaving won't change whether they can get out or not. If they're still alive. I've scouted the city thoroughly, and I didn't find much."

"Then maybe you didn't look hard enough."

"I looked."

"Did you check the movie theatre on the other side of town? Because that's where they tend to hide out."

Squall was frowning at him now, warily. "You've known where they are?"

He scratched his neck. "For a little while, yeah. Not until after my troop left. There's not much I can do against them on my lonesome. Oh, believe me, I've tried. Made their lives miserable for a little while there, before they got too cautious."

"Miserable?"

"Siege tactics. Damaging their water supply, setting up tripwires and traps, Hanging special windchimes that make odd noises so they won't get any sleep. Lots of fun when you're not on the receiving end. But then they started putting up defenses and paying close attention, so I didn't have much opportunity to do anything else." He stretched his back, and winced as something popped. "So, what are your plans for getting us the hell outa here?"

"None whatsoever. Figured we'd blow a hole in the wall."

Irvine grinned. "If you're accepting of alternate ideas, I've got a theory."

He told it to Squall.

"Is that even possible?"

"We'll find out."

"And then she bloody bit me."

"Man, that's what you get for dating a Druehill girl. You tell 'em to be gentle, and they see it as a sign of weakness, and go for the jugular."

"What would you know, Lam? Girl you're dating is from Deling. Flighty daydreamer, if I 'member right."

"Don't you go dissin' on my baby."

"Your baby. The same baby I saw with you know who over at the Goth Penguin?"

"Wait…who?"

"You know who."

"That… bastard! That… bit-"

"You can't honestly tell me you didn't know. Oh come on! She's got 'cheat' written all over her!"

"She doesn't!"

"She mooches, bats her eyes, demands attention and then doesn't return calls. She calls you pooky. And the dog?"

"Yeah, well… at least she doesn't bite!"

"So my girl bit me. At least she doesn't cheat."

"Hey, who am I to judge? After all, if you don't wan' em to bite, don't date a woah, what's that?"

"What's what?"

"Did you see that? A movement near the top of the wa… oh. Huh."

"Well I'll be."

"Don't that beat all. Never thought I'd see one out here."

"Chgoki?"

"Well hey there li'l fella. You lost?"

"NyedaarrrrrrrrRRRRRR..."

"What tha oh FUCK!"

"…RRRRROOOOAAAAGRR!"

The guards that were asleep in the barrack tent never woke up as the flaming jeep rolled over them. Ifrit picked up another humvee, lit it on fire, and this time aimed for the captain's tent. The ruckus that commenced was breathtaking. People running everywhere, like in the monster movies. Although these people did a lot more shooting and a little less screaming than the movies. But the premise was the same. Amused, he pounced on a few, flopped onto his back to gnaw on them, and accidentally rolled over on a few more. That was fun too, it turned out, and he gave up his caught prey to scamper through the open area gleefully pouncing everything that moved, and setting fires as he went.

Squall ignored the chaos, counting silently instead. At sixty, he sprinted to the wall and up it, reaching the top at eighty two. The wall ledge was empty, since all the guards had run towards the sounds of screaming. Sliding over the top, he crouched in the shadows of a gun turret, looping a rope beneath its base. He had it ready at ninety eight, and tossed the lengthy end back over the wall.

Having caused sufficient calamity, Ifrit unsummoned himself, and Grrface bounced over to the wall and shimmied up to his master. "Prrtprrve."

"Good boy." A tightening of the rope was the signal, and he put his weight against the other end, the turret leg acting as a crude pulley system. Soon the end came into view, with Irvine clinging to it. But they'd already wasted too much time, and a nearby guard had spotted them. A sleep spell put him down. A gunblade to the neck kept him down. "How you holding up."

"I'm fine. Hyne, Squall, I'm wounded, not-"

"Save it." He leapt to the ground, and Confused the closest sentry before he turned around. A blow to the head and he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. Two more turned a corner, but Squall had them pinned, broke their jaws to keep them from shouting, and smacked them over the heads with his gunblade.

A whirring and a thud announced Irvine's ungraceful landing. He hadn't hurt himself getting off the landing, although he winced and groaned simply because he was supposed to. He was getting a little overdramatic with the cursing. Maybe he had actually injured himself, but Squall couldn't see where.

"Irvine?"

Who was that? Dammit, they'd been recognized. Another guard had shown up, this one smart enough to head towards the wall in case the GF was a diversion. They couldn't afford a witness; he'd have to go.

Irvine wasn't being any help. He'd just slid to an odd leaning position, and now stared up at the newcomer with surprise. His jaw worked, as if his mouth was trying to get him to say something, but his brain hadn't caught up.

This new guard hadn't seen Squall yet, so he stayed to the shadow of the barricade, measuring his footsteps carefully.

"Irvine? What in bright blazes…you… I'd heard you were in there, but… sweet mother…"

"…Trent?"

The man had left himself completely open, and the blade slid home easily. A quick slash kept him down for good. "Come on."

"Trent? Holy fuck-"

"We've got an opening. Let's move."

"Squall… you… fuck…"

The cowboy was being sentimental again. They didn't have time for this. "Hold still." He jabbed a pressure point, like Zell had shown him to do, and Irvine went glassy eyed and crumpled. Squall took his weight with the help of Shiva's support, and dragged him to the nearest intact vehicle. The seatbelts in the backseat kept him in place, and there was a blanket in the trunk to keep him warm, just in case.

In the confusion of current events, no one noticed the jeep headed out the main gate. Its solid military issue tires protected it from the row of spikes set across the road to prevent unauthorized exits, and its reinforced front bumper withstood the impact with the metal gate without a scratch. The sentry at the gate did wave and holler a little, but no one paid any attention, and eventually he glumly went back to watching reality shows on his handheld receiver.

Author's Notes : Spell checking is such a hassle when I make up so many words. Did you notice the RENT reference? Look hard.