Adeline uses her hands to ascend the uneven slope. The building in front of them got hit with some crazy powerful bomb long ago, probably during the Outbreak, and half of it is collapsed in to a long stream of rubble which she and Wyatt are slowly ascending. The sun is on the other side of the building, and they climb in shadow, but they'd probably be safe anyway, because this district—where's she's never set foot before—is derelict and long abandoned. The ruined blocks between zones 1 and 3, where she figured no one ever went.

No one except smugglers like her brother.

"Wyatt," she starts again.

"Quiet," he says brusquely. He looks over his shoulder. His brow and cheeks are coated with dark dust, his hair still tussled from the fight. His face is harder than ever. Joyless, seeming. But… they are in danger right now, she reminds herself. His arms are thicker, he's lean. He moves with grace, and he dispatched Eddie back in her apartment viciously. She's only seen him fight a handful of times. He's gotten tougher, since she last saw him.

She remembers him being bigger than he is now, though. But then again, she was ten the last time she saw him.

"When are we—" she starts again.

"Quiet, I said." His eyes are harsh for a second, then they soften. "I'll tell you when we're safe to talk."

He won't. He would always make little promises to her. 'I'll do this, I'll do that.' He wouldn't, it was just to get her to do what he wanted for the moment. He hasn't changed that much, then.

She frowns.

Twenty minutes ago, she agreed to throw her life away, so she could see her brother again. And meet this… sister, and her beefy friend. She chose to trust them, over everything that's kept her safe for these last five years.

Her heart twists as she thinks of Ben again… how can she just leave without saying goodbye? Maybe she can write a letter… but where would she leave it that he would find it?

They've crested the second floor of the building, and they're making their way through the shadows of half-exposed hallways, stepping over broken furniture, fallen paintings and crushed flower pots. As she's ducking under a broken beam, she notices a skeletal hand sticking out from some rubble.

She shudders. There's a reason people don't come out here. Good people, anyway.

Wyatt is peering out through the corner of a mostly obscured window. She knows he'll shush her again so she says it all at once. "Where are we going?"

He shoots her a look of annoyance, his face again softening when he meets her eyes. "Out."

"We're gonna meet them, right?"

He gives her a look she can't read, but it isn't nice. "We're gonna meet them."

Does he mean that, or is he just saying it to make her feel better?

He goes back to looking out the window. She shifts her feet. She's scared. She's really trying not to act it, but she is. She doesn't know where they are, she doesn't know what's gonna happen. And she really wants to see Ben. Just Ben, he could tell the others.

She bites back the things she wants to say.

"The coast is clear, but this next part is important. Do what I say. We get through here, and we're clear."

"Okay."

"Trust me." He says it like a command, looking at her.

Under there, under the brusque attitude, the bravado, she sees him, just like she used to. Her big brother. He brought trouble on himself more than once, on both of them. But if nothing else, she could count on him to protect her when things went sideways. And she loves him for it.

She nods, with heart.

For an instant, he has that little look of surprise, like he always did when she got serious. The ghost of a smile traces his lips, and he looks over his shoulder. "Let's go."

They move into the next room and climb out a broken window down another slope of rubble. They're in the sun now, but there's not a soul in sight. He takes them down into what used to be the street and is now more or less a ravine of broken concrete. They follow it for a while, and she has to watch her feet to not cut her ankles or trip. She's wearing her best boots, but they're being put to the test.

Then all of the sudden she looks up and Wyatt's gone. She feels a pang of panic.

"Addie." It's Wyatt's urgent whisper.

She turns to see him at the entrance of some kind of tunnel. He beckons her on, and she follows him. He turns on his flashlight, and they're moving through some kind of concrete hallway, she can't tell what it used to be, but there are pipes on the ceiling and the floor has a thin trail of long standing water. It smells dank.

They get to a ladder, and she follows him up it. Up here, it's even darker, no daylight at all. His flashlight turns on a door and he fishes in his pocket. He pulls out a key that actually works, turning the lock over. He turns off his flashlight and opens the door, just a crack, peeking through. There's low light on the other side.

"Wait here," he says.

Her heart jumps. "What?"

"Wait here," he commands, looking at her. She can just see the outline of his face. "I'll knock when you can come."

Horrible visions flash through her mind, of what might happen to her brother on the other side of that door. "Wyatt…"

"I said trust me, Addie." With that, he slips through the door, closing it to a crack behind him.

She doesn't follow him through, but she moves to the crack in the door, peering through. She can't see anything. Some light source around a corner… the edge of the hallway on the other side. She sees her brother's silhouette disappear around the bend.

"Casey," she hears him say.

"Oh, shit!" says a guy she doesn't know.

"I'm leaving," Wyatt continues.

"Oh… that quick… shoot, wasn't sure I'd be seeing you again, to be honest."

"You remember our deal?"

"Yeah. O' course, man."

"I got someone with me."

"You…"

"Here's the rest of it."

Something exchanges between them.

"We're going now. For your own benefit, best keep your back turned."

There's a silence. "Yeah… alright, Wyatt. Safe travels, I guess."

Wyatt doesn't say anything else. Addie hears his bootsteps coming back down the hallway. He opens the door, Addie stepping back. The lines on his face are hard. "We move quick now. Don't stop. On my heels."

Addie just nods, passing through the door while Wyatt closes it behind them. They walk past that hallway, which seems to lead to a living room or even a foyer or something, at least fifteen feet high. The only guy in sight is Casey. He's got a hoodie and jacket on. The hood's down, exposing messy, sandy blonde hair. But his back is to them and he doesn't turn around.

They pass by that hallway, down a short corridor that leads to a single door. Inside is a bedroom, but it's dark, dusty and disused. Wyatt looks out the window.

Addie does too, and she's shocked to see the boundary wall to zone 1 maybe fifty feet away. She can see through it… she can see people on the street. Might even be Market Street, which she has never set foot on once in her life.

"Come on," Wyatt continues. He pulls open the window and steps out onto a fire escape.

"Are you sure–"

"What did I say about questions, Addie?" Wyatt whispers sharply.

Unsure, Addie climbs out after him. They're in the shadows, but it's not impossible for someone to see them…

Without further instruction, Wyatt climbs on the rail of the escape and jumps across the way to the fire escape of the next building. Addie's heart jumps a bit, but he lands on the outside, pulling himself over the rail. He beckons her.

It's only about five feet across, but it's a twenty foot drop. She bites back her words and climbs up herself. She leaps, but she actually jumps too far, her shins arriving at the top of the opposing rail. She half-tucks, desperately trying to right herself, but Wyatt's hands snatch her waist right out of the air. He grunts, pulling her over and setting her down.

She's breathing through her mouth. She looks up and Wyatt's giving her a look of disapproval. He turns and pulls open the window into the next building, and they climb inside.

He clicks on his flashlight again and leads them down dark, decrepit corridors, and down some stairs.

Wyatt used to pick her up all the time, but she weighs twice what she used to. He must have gotten stronger. She wonders what else has changed.

He leads them down some stairs then pushes open a door into the daylight. It blinds Adeline for a second. She holds up her hand and follows him, as he doesn't slow down.

They're in a courtyard, a small space between two halves of an old apartment building, looks like. There's moldy old cobblestones on the ground, many of them upturned, and some rusted old patio furniture. But more importantly, the FEDRA exterior wall runs right through it. Only there's a section in the middle that's been torn open by God knows what.

"What…" says Addie.

The courtyard is walled, and Ward 1 is at an angle behind them. You couldn't really see this spot, or access it easily unless you go through the building that they just did. FEDRA probably has no idea this hole is here.

"Come on, Addie!" says Wyatt with little patience. "We'll be safe soon, move your feet."

She follows him the through the charred hole of twisted metal. It's uneven and narrow, she has to duck and twist a bit. She looks down at her feet, then up at the twenty foot sheer wall, topped by razor wire.

It's the first time she's been outside.

"I said come on, Addie!"

She jerks, then moves to follow Wyatt into the next half of the apartment building. Only there's not much building. They get about halfway down another one of the hallways, and the building just gives way to destruction. Wyatt leads her to the mouth of a hole, and from there she can see where they stand.

More rubble slops down into a pit of… some manmade thing that's been bombed to oblivion. There are barely any buildings standing for at least five hundred feet. Just broken concrete and twisted metal, grown through with dry grass and some gnarled brown bushes.

Aside from a few concrete slabs, it's all small rubble, leaving nothing to hide behind. Goes on forever like that to their right, but to their left has to be the East Gate, leading to Ward 1. She can see a high road that rises above the rubble, leading to mighty-looking steel doors topped with twin guard towers equipped with floodlights.

It's early afternoon, and it's plenty light out here. She can see two FEDRA soldiers sitting in the towers with scoped rifles.

Wyat yanks on her shoulder. "Get back, Addie! You trying to get seen?"

She looks at him, defensive. "How am I supposed to know what to do when you don't tell me anything?"

He scoffs. "Easy, you do what I say and nothing but."

"What are we doing now?"

"Waiting." Wyatt steps back a foot and falls back on his hind, leaning against the remains of the wall. "They rotate guard every four hours. Should be soon. When they do, we'll have thirty seconds or so where they can't see us. Which is what we need to get out of this hellhole. So get comfortable."

Adeline frowns. Thirty seconds? That sounds pretty risky to her. She looks out over the horizon. In the distance, she can see a street leading down rows of houses. To their right, there's a strip mall, and a car repair shop. All empty, no people. She does see birds flying around some of the houses. Maybe they found something to eat?

She shifts her feet. She knows it's supposed to be dangerous out there, but it doesn't look like it right now. And for the first time in a long time, she's wondering what it would be like to explore those places…

But they have to get away from the wall first. Away from FEDRA. Her heart pangs again as she thinks of Ben. She hardens her face. She has to trust Wyatt now. It's the only way.

She turns back to him. "Well," says Adeline, "can we talk now?"

Wyatt, how had been resting his eyes, looks up at her under his brows. He half-frowns, looking out over the ruined landscape before them, empty of people. "Keep it low."

Adeline presses her lower back to the wall opposite him and slides down to a sitting position. She raps her hands around her knees, clasping her fingers. She takes a breath, looking at her older brother.

He looks back at her warily.

She blinks. "Wyatt, where have you been?"

"It's not time to talk about that," he replies stiffly.

"You've been gone for five years."

"I don't think you need me to tell you."

"Tell me anyway."

"We couldn't come back here without risking our lives."

"So why are you risking your life now?"

He screws up his face, looking away.

"It's cause of her, isn't it?" Adeline continues.

Wyatt shakes his head, a bitter twist on his lips.

"She got you to—"

"Addie, what you need to understand about that girl is she's trouble. She's got a big head and some bad ideas in it."

"And she's our sister."

He gives her a mean look, curling his lip. "She's gonna get herself killed sooner than later." He rubs his lips, hard, angry. "And if I weren't here she was likely to get you killed too."

"She—"

"You saw—" he starts angrily, then stops himself, looking out of their hiding place. He continues in lower tones. "You saw what happened before I got there. All she was gonna accomplish is making her little sister watch her die."

Adeline doesn't like the tack he's taking. She changes the subject. "How did you do it?"

"What?"

"How did you guys get in?"

"We? We didn't do anything. After we got to San Antonio outskirts we parted ways. I got in the way I know how—this way here. I don't know what the hell they did—climbed through the sewer, judging by the smell. Doesn't matter though, cause I doubt they could even make it back—"

"Don't talk about them like that," says Adeline.

"Excuse me?" Wyatt asks, a threat in his tone.

"Don't talk about them getting hurt," says Adeline. Wyatt scares her, always has. But she's not gonna back down on this. "That's not okay."

Wyatt's cheek twitches. He looks away. "Don't matter what I say, they're the ones in over their heads."

She changes the subject again. "What's she like?"

He's incredulous. "What's she like?"

Adeline just stares, he lip stiff.

He scoffs. "Adeline, she's not your sister—"

"I didn't say she was."

"Yes, you did."

"What's she like, Wyatt?"

He gets a real sour look, staring off over the horizon. He shakes his head. "Don't matter, Addie. Just don't matter."

But Addie's heart tells her that's not true at all.

Something begins to happen. It's subtle at first, but then Addie realizes she's not imagining it. Wyatt clearly feels it, too, because he unclasps his hands, looking at the ground underneath them.

There's a growing rumbling growing through the earth, and now the air.

"Addie, hide!" he commands, the two of them scrambling back behind an old collapsed dresser.

There are engines rumbling, a lot of them. And they're not in second gear, they're flying. A few seconds later, Addie sees a FEDRA Humvee tearing down the perimeter road around the wall, leaving a trail of dust in its wake, and behind it a fleet of vehicles that are clearly not FEDRA.

They're dirty, covered in South Texas dust, and they've got red flags trailing from their fenders, their hoods, their cabs, and their antennae.

Dawson men, there can be no doubt.

A cool shock hits Adeline. She's been hearing about Dawson and his raids for as long as she's been alive. But it's never been something she had to worry about, because she's always been on the safe side of the wall. Until now.

"Fuckin' a, are you kidding me?" Wyatt spits. He doesn't have to even be quiet, as the roar of the engines is thunderous now.

The FEDRA vehicle pivots at the T intersection leading to the gate, but changes course and continues on. It can't get in with this horde following it. It leans on the gas as if to try to get away.

That's when the bangs start, little explosions so loud—louder than the cars—that Adeline flinches and covers her ears for protection. Her eyes search in confusion, until she sees a huge gun on top of one of the Dawson vehicles shooting some kind of heavy rounds at the Humvee.

And they're hitting their target. Sparks and pieces of metal and rubber fly off the FEDRA Humvee until one of the tires bursts, it careens out of control, and the gun keeps laying into it until there's an explosion and the whole thing tips over.

Under the roar of the engines Adeline can hear the Dawson men cry out in victory.

She also hears some much quieter shots coming from the guard towers at the gate, but a spatter of rifle fire hits the walls around the tower, bullets whizzing through the air, and the tower guards have to take cover, too. There's just too many of them.

"Fucking a…" Wyatt growls louder now.

"Go on home, now," says a voice through a bullhorn on one of the vehicles. They're circling back now, cresting piles of rubble and taking up the T intersection completely. "You're done here."

The vehicles pull up in a crescent formation around the intersection. They start turning off their engines. Apparently they're not going anywhere. Two of them break off from the others and go back the way they came, back North. Are there more of them there?

The rest post up right where they are. Men with long guns hang out of the windows. But no one gets out.

Scared, confused, Adeline looks to her older brother.

He stares in confoundment. "I can't fuckin' believe this," he whispers.

"Wyatt, what do we do?"

"Quiet," he says absently. He looks back and forth between the vehicles. He rubs his jaw. "It's some kind of siege or something."

"What do we do?"

He shakes his head. "We can't go this way. No chance, not like this. Not until they're gone."

"Where do we go?"

"We can go back. There are some places we can stay for the night."

Stay the night? But that can't work. Ellie said tomorrow morning. She was very clear. "How are we gonna meet Ellie?"

He looks at her like she's stupid. Like she's crazy. But all he ends up saying is "we can't worry about that right now, Addie. Can't meet anyone if we're dead."

She looks back at the Humvees and trucks, lurking under the clouds of dust they kicked up like a pack of predators, crimson flags running down the sides like trails of blood.

Much as she hates to admit it, he's right about that.

"Come on, Addie," says Wyatt, moving back the way they came, "it's you and me, now."

Abby stuffs the bundle of shirts into her pack. She'd hoped to have them laundered before they left, but that's the last thing on her mind now.

She frowns, and sighs. She pulls them back out, lays them on the cot, and starts folding them. The more fucked up things are outside, the more she likes to keep things tidy.

Ellie is behind her, melancholically packing her own bag. She's been uncharacteristically quiet since the argument they had in the boiler room, after Lines. And Abby hasn't been inclined to speak either.

She's furious. Low-heat-in-the-gut-best-not-to-open-your-mouth kind of furious. She kind of figured after they left Jackson together, that Ellie wouldn't keep anything from her anymore. She knew she'd been lying, she knew she wasn't getting the whole truth. But this…

She rips her folding knife open, inspecting the blade unnecessarily, she hasn't used it since Colorado. It's so clean it gleams. She folds it and stows it in her pack.

Ellie knew what it meant for Abby to come out here like this. To walk into danger, after years of safety. To take this wild chance with her. It's not something Abby would do for many people. It's not something she would do for hardly anyone.

And still Ellie was lying to her about it. All the way until she got caught in her own story.

Abby clenches her teeth, securing her canteen to the straps on the side. She lets out another breath.

She even considered that Ellie had something to do with the drugs moving around Jackson, but that she dismissed out of hand as a thought born of anger.

"Abby?"

Abby turns her head sharply. She's speaking to her now? "What?"

She doesn't reply right away. Abby turns and looks. Ellie's hands are holding one of her shirts, but she's looking over her shoulder, into the middle distance. She looks sheepish. She's got one of those hollow-eyed looks, the one that says she's clearly not okay. Abby can't stand seeing her like that. But there's something else there, too.

"Do you hear that?" Ellie continues.

Abby stills. Then she feels it more than hears it. A vibration. A dull boom.

Her instinct kicks in. There's fighting going on.

They both drop what they're carrying and move to the window. They can't see anything, the street below is empty. Abby unlatches the window and pulls it open, and they stick their heads out.

Explosions, in the distance. Real ones, munitions. Machine gun fire.

"What the fuck…" Abby mutters.

There are raised voices elsewhere in the Firefly building now.

Abby doesn't wait for Ellie, she stalks across the room and pulls open the door. Three Fireflies run past the T intersection at the end of the hallway. Blake is standing in the hall, looking at her beeper.

"Blake," says Abby.

The girl looks up at her humorlessly.

"What's going on?"

Blake just shakes her head. "Stay in your room."

"What if–"

"What if nothing, Abby, I'm in charge of you two until Parker gets back. When I know, you'll know, okay?"

Abby grimaces. She knows how this works.

She turns around, and Ellie's right behind her. Abby moves past her, sitting down on her cot.

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" Ellie asks after closing the door.

Abby spits out a breath. "Wait."

"No chance, Abby–"

"There's nothing we can do," says Abby harshly. "You wanna walk out into that?"

"Adeline's out there, Abby." She sounds small when she says it.

That does give Abby pause. The two girls look at each other for a few moments. Abby grimaces again. She rubs her arm, then shakes her head. "How would we find her anyway?"

"We have to–"

"She's with Wyatt, Ellie. We have to trust they're okay for now, alright?"

"We're supposed to meet tomorrow morning. I don't have any way of contacting them until we do. We have to get the horses–"

"You know we can't do that, Ellie," says Abby. She takes the edge off her tone, but it's firm. "Why would you walk into danger? It's the worst thing we could do right now."

"So what do we do?"

"We do the hardest thing," says Abby, "and we wait." She turns around and lays down on her cot. "When Parker gets back, we'll get some answers."

"What if…" The words die on Ellie's lips.

She stands there for a long time. Abby waits for further arguments to come, but after a long while, Ellie walks over to own cot, and Abby hears it creak as she lays down.

It's late already, it's getting dark. But neither one of them are going to sleep.

Parker pushes his way into his 'office' on the third floor of the Firefly building. He lays his notebooks and laptop heavily on the desk. He walks in front of the window. The streets are empty, though he can see a yellow alert light strobing on a few places on the wall in the distance. The sky is dark with clouds.

"Sir, should we…?" Sunez asks.

Parker half-turns. He's running out of patience. Even his most trusted captains are getting on his nerves. "No," he says, not sure what she was going to say and not needing to know, "the Fireflies aren't doing any fighting tonight."

"And tomorrow?" Walters asks.

Parker doesn't turn around, just nods his head subtly as he looks out over the city. "Possibly. We'll see how tonight plays out."

"They sounded unsure of those Southwestern positions."

"I recall."

They seem to hesitate behind him.

"I have a phone here for a reason. We are not San Antonio's first line of defense, understand? Same thing Grayson said before we left."

"Yes, sir," they say at the same time.

"See to your duties."

Without further word, they leave and close the door behind them.

Parker stares out the window for a while. It looks like rain outside, but it hasn't started falling yet. He needs to write up a report to accompany the late night sat phone call that Ritter will be sending any minute. But for now he just stand with his hands clasped behind his back, breathing deep, steady breaths.

This is the last thing anyone needed.

There's a knock at his door.

"Yes?" he calls without turning around.

The door opens partway. "Sir," this time it's Blake, "ah, Andersen asked–"

"Yes," he interrupts, "I'm sure she did."

"Should I tell her–"

"Send them in. Both of them."

"...yes, sir."

After a few moments, the door opens all the way and Parker can hear Andersen's footfalls and the miracle girl's near-silent steps.

He sighs. He'd like anything other to have these two on his hands right now. He half wants to cut them to the wind, but a few short thoughts on that dash the possibility. Which leaves him one choice: to deal with them.

He turns around. "Good evening, ladies."

They both wear dubious looks, his tone belied by the God-awful situation they're in. "Sir," Andersen starts, "we wanted to ask–"

"What the hell's going on? I can tell you that, Andersen. Local agitator turned-saboteur turned-warlord, Kyle Dawson, has finally made his big play."

Neither of them has a smart remark, their full attention trained on him.

"He's marshalled all his forces and weaponry, and 'surrounded,'" he says with air quotes, "the city. He's calling it a siege. And he only has one demand."

Andersen finds this concerning, but Williams just looks piqued by this.

"What demand?" Andersen asks.

"The cure," says Parker. That has the appropriate effect of perturbing Andersen and shocking Williams. "They are demanding that we relinquish the entirety of what we've delivered here. They even brought some refrigerated vehicles, so I guess they mean business."

Andersen's lips part in consternation. "You can't—" She instinctively checks her tone in the presence of command, struggling for the words. "That's not possible!"

"Shouldn't be," he acknowledges, "but given the evidence laid before us, we infer that they have an inside man, or men, here in San Antonio. Probably for some time. May go to explain their astonishing level of success at evading FEDRA troop movements."

"And they knew that we were bringing the cure here?"

"Oh, it sure seems like it. Now I wonder if they knew in advance of our arrival. I suppose not, since they were not prepared to ambush us. Their mole must not be senior enough in leadership. But they knew when we got here, and now the whole circus has come to town."

Andersen grimaces. She hates it as much as he does, but it wasn't completely unexpected. Tells of her experience. For her part, Williams's expression says that she's furious at such a perversion. She's even getting red in the face, but she keeps her mouth shut.

"Can they really?" Andersen starts, thinking about her words. "Can a bunch of highwaymen really besiege–"

"I'm afraid so," says Parker, "and I'll tell you why. Dawson is ex-military. He's not just brutal, actually he's a lot smarter than brutal. He's been operating in this scrubland for decades now. A lot of so-called leaders have come and gone, but Dawson is slippery, and shrewd, and knows how to feed people, so he's amassed some considerable forces over the years.

"And that wouldn't be enough, but he has some understanding of San Antonio's defenses as well. They only tried this once before, back in '29. It went poorly for them. They got outgunned by FEDRA's fleet of armored cars. Which is exactly what would have happened this evening, if Dawson hadn't deployed five heavily armored humvees with anti-armor weapons mounted on back around San Antonio's gates."

"How can they possibly…" Andersen mutters.

"We suspect–I'm in agreement with local brass–that Dawson has over the years been raiding long-abandoned military outposts in Texas for weapons and ammunition. Something someone with the forces he controls could accomplish."

Andersen sucks air in through her teeth, her eyes move back and forth, doing the math.

"Five is enough?" Williams asks, voice gravelly with restrained rage.

He considers her. "In this case, yes. Now, it could have been a ploy. The vehicles might barely be in running condition, they might have none of the rare ammunition they would need, only we've got plenty of reports of the vehicles operating, at high speed, and two of the three patrol vehicles caught out at the time of the siege were rapidly destroyed.

"The first option was a sortie, but given how Dawson's men positioned themselves, any FEDRA column sent out would be met by a firing line, and the losses were calculated to be catastrophic. The call was made two hours ago not to engage."

"They can't possibly surround the entire city–" Andersen begins.

"No," he says, "and they don't need to. There are three points of exit from San Antonio, and none of them are wide enough for more than one vehicle to pass at a time. One of these gates has longstanding mechanical issues which may prevent it closing in a timely fashion, as well. These are the only points that Dawson need barricade, and so he is doing. With his forces concentrated on the better working gates. Revealing his considerable intel on this city's defenses."

Williams sucks in a long breath. "So then–"

Andersen wisely interrupts her. "Are there no weapons the city can use to tear these scum apart from defensive positions?"

Parker offers her a humorless smile, shaking his head. "No, there are not. Anti-armor weaponry has been removed from the walls and mounted on vehicles for years. But they can't deploy the vehicles. This eventuality was never seriously considered. They do have a stock of mortars, but these are ineffective against mobile weapon platforms. And difficult to use against forces so close to the walls."

"They can't be out of options. Can they call for support?"

"It is unlikely that Austin will deploy troops en masse to support San Antonio, at least not in less than two or three weeks' time. And it may not happen at all. Austin has its own defenses to see to. FEDRA brass is formulating effective alternatives, but for now–"

"The siege stands," says Williams.

Parker eyes her. "The siege stands."

"Why bother?" asks Williams. "Aren't you guys giving the cure away for free?"

Against his will, Parker actually begins laughing silently, in his chest. "Right," he laughs some more. "Of course. We are, aren't we? Why would anyone take by force what might be given for free?"

Williams doesn't seem to find it as funny.

"Because," he continues, "Dawson and men like him don't think that way. We might make terms to offer the cure to a band as big as Dawson's, if they weren't so keen on waylaying, robbing, or killing those that travel in their territory. Dawson might get the cure from FEDRA, via trade, or even for free. If, you know, they hadn't been a murderous thorn in their side for years and years.

"Dawson and everyone following him are lying in the bed they made. It's all they know."

"What will the Fireflies do?" Andersen asks.

"You mean, will we give in and hand them the cure?"

Andersen's eye twitches.

"Impossible. We've given over custody to FEDRA. It's up to them what they do with it now. But from the long conversation I was just present for at City Hall, under no circumstances will they give Dawson what he wants.

"For our part, being unable to leave the city safely, the Fireflies will be offering FEDRA conditional support in this region until the siege is broken."

"Conditional support…" repeats Abby.

Parker nods coyly.

Andersen leans downward, looking up at him under her brows. "Does that mean…"

Williams looks sharply at her, fear in her eyes.

"Orders will be issued in the AM, Andersen. Can I count on your support?"

She stiffens. He did her the courtesy of asking, though he's assured that under duress, she would follow any order he should give her, 'Firefly' or no.

Williams is suddenly in distress.

"Fear not, Williams," he says. She looks sharply at him. She doesn't seem to like being addressed that way. "We wouldn't jeopardize your safety."

She screws up her face, like that doesn't make sense. He snorts softly. Then fear creeps back onto her face. She's worried about Andersen, not herself.

"Yes," says Andersen.

Williams's fists clench.

"You can," Andersen finishes.