‘The Lumberjack’, as I’d termed the guy, was a burly guy with a big red beard, wearing the standard mercenary outfit, part of Red’s squad, and Red was a woman I’d named as such because she had the same mercenary uniform on, but instead of black and gray camo or just plain black, she had red and black and black, with a metal mask. She had broad shoulders and broad hips, black hair in a lick of a ponytail I could have gripped in one hand.

She was one to watch out for, but it was the little cues that made me think that. People paid attention to her, and she seemed to have at least three of the people other mercenaries were avoiding inside her orbit. The Lumberjack, a scrawny guy who I hadn’t seen without a knife in his hand, and another big guy that had gotten up to go to the bathroom ten minutes ago, with people actively getting out of his way.

If she had the fear or respect of a bunch of guys who demanded fear and respect, that was worth paying attention to.

She’d stood, and she held a gear in her hand. It flipped over and rolled across the back of her hand before she caught it. The thing probably weighed three pounds.

It fell, after a purposeful movement, like she was aiming to bounce a ball. It plunged into the floor, and there was a ‘splash’ of pistons, larger gears, sheet metal and metal springs thicker than my leg, rising out of the concrete floor and sinking back in to leave the floor unblemished. A piston knocked a smaller, narrower gear into the air, which she caught.

It served to get the attention of the others. Shouting and conversation had stopped.

Rain pressed another hand to the window. People were getting restless now. They actively stood, shuffling feet, looking uncomfortable.

“There’s time to roll this out slower,” I whispered. “Until Barfbat and Chugalug’s squads notice they haven’t come back. You don’t have to finish this in five seconds. Go easy.”

“I am,” Rain hissed, and I could hear the tension in his voice. “There’s only so long I can look at that ball they’ve made and not think about how people we care about are in there. Tristan backed me up when it counted. Kenzie!”

“Shh!”

I saw him twist his head to one side, like he had to wrench himself away to avoid ranting.

End of his rope? We all had our limits, but those limits depended heavily on what we were talking about. Rain, I had to imagine, had an intolerance for institutionalized evil. For the cult mentalities and gatherings of people who overlooked serious wrongs, like these soldiers and villains were doing.