Blackwell, the Slag. A few days after storming the first safehouse.

Switch swept her gaze across the hazy meeting room of their clubhouse. The present members—and Harridan—all looked worse for wear, but still in high spirits. She could tell from the fire in their eyes. And what passed for it in Harridan's. She was never quite sure what to make of her.

After letting the girls get the chatter out of their systems, she thumped her chrome fist against the metal table to grab their attention. The room hushed.

“So,” she began, her smooth contralto flowing like a river downstream. “Our first assault was not a resounding success, but not a complete failure either.”

She lifted a small-sized leather jacket for everyone to see, the Screaming Banshees logo partially visible on the back.

“So she was there.”

“Fucking traitor bitch.”

Switch expected the murmuring. Her elfin ear twitched when she heard the distinct sound of someone spitting to the floor, coming from her left-hand side. Hotrod. Switch dug deep inside her deadened psyche and managed a semblance of empathy with her lieutenant's pronounced distaste. After all, it was Hotrod's wing that Shy was taken under when they considered her as one of their own.

Switch tossed the jacket to the floor and raised a hand to hush the room once more. “Yes, there were traces of her being there. Unfortunately, we did not manage to figure out where they took her due to our explosive exit.” She gestured towards the three open seats around the table. “And thanks to said exit, we now have to contend with the absence of Pizzazz and Cherry, who are currently still recuperating at the Doc's clinic. An additional setback to losing our sole matrix support. In short, we are fucked. And not in a good way.”

Viola raised her hand.

“Yes, Viola?”

“Can't we ask for backup from the other chapters?”

Switch leaned back in her chair and closed her cybereyes, as if mulling over the suggestion. “That is certainly an option, though the other chapters have problems on their own plate, I am sure. Plus, Shiftcrank already loaned Mary to us.”

“And,” Hotrod chimed in, “we don't want to give off the impression that we can't clean up our own shit.”

Viola nodded and stared at the table while chewing on her fingernail.

“Speaking of our own shit”—Switch directed the room's attention towards the map projected against the wall and pointed out the remaining two locations marked with a red dot—“we have two piles to go through. We can do it one at a time and hope we hit the right one first try, or we blitz both at the same time.”

“Pros and cons, Captain,” Hotrod mumbled through an unlit Lucky Thirteen cigarette clamped between her teeth. “Partial to one over the other, though.”

“I am sure you will share with the rest of the class.”

“Of course.” Hotrod got up from her seat and stood next to the map's projection. “With Pizzazz and Cherry out of the running for now, we're not operating at a hundred percent on the combat front. That leaves our captain, Stiletto, Growler, Melody, Mary, and me. If we blitz both locations at the same time, we're running teams of three, which is just a bit too barebones for my liking. If we hit them one at a time—and we don't luck out on the first—we're most likely looking at storming a fortified safehouse, which might be biting off more than we can chew.”

“So two-prong blitz?” Melody piped up.

“Two-prong blitz,” Hotrod repeated, shooting fingerguns at her chapter sister.

“But I thought team size was a concern?”

“Yeah, but also nah.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I'm glad you asked, my medium serving of macchiato.” Hotrod finally lit up the cigarette she had been keeping in her lips. “Our dear captain and Growler are both worth at least two women each. So if we separate them, we'll essentially be doing teams of four.”

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“But that's not—”

“You're right, but that's not all!”

“That's not what I—”

Viola placed a hand on Melody's shoulder “Let's see where she's going with this.”

Hotrod continued to board the runaway train that is her borderline deranged line of thinking. “Mary's machine gun counts as a person—”

“Does it actually?” Melody's voice was muffled due to her burying her face in her hands.

“—so we have at least nine people now! And that brings us to team formation. Get your straws ready and we'll—”

“I will take it from here. Thank you, Hotrod.” Switch stood up and ushered Hotrod back to her seat with no effort. “Strange headcount aside, I agree with Hotrod's analysis of the pros and cons. The simultaneous blitz is our best bet. Before dividing the teams, I would like to ask our guest for her thoughts.”

The room's attention turned to Harridan. Even from behind those sunglasses, Switch could feel Harridan's gaze meeting hers. She almost felt a sense of kinship. A sisterhood of dead emotions.

“I do not believe that I have much to add to this discussion,” she fired quickly, as if speaking solely from instinct brought on from having the entire room staring at her.

“Your thoughts are valuable. And you have a better understanding of how they will operate in this scenario.”

Harry maintained her unblinking gaze as she gathered her valuable thoughts. A feat that took several long, awkward seconds.

“Site one appears to be a warehouse in the nearby industrial area. The approach is congested, surrounded on three sides by a junkyard. The sightlines are not ideal for overwatch, too many obstructions.” The blonde-haired woman approached the projection and pointed to the second safehouse. “Site two is another residential building located at the end of a cul-de-sac.”

“Site two is outside of the Blackwell neighborhood line,” Switch said. “It sits inside Willowville, close to the border that leads to Steele District.”

“Yes. I would estimate that it is a twenty minute drive between the two.”

“So, assuming both safehouses are employing heightened security, regrouping at the right one would be difficult.”

“Yes,” Harry responded in her ever flat tone. “Accounting for travel time, as well as the time it would take for you to clear them. The distance to the metroplex proper means that you would likely not have time, given that they are likely trying to move Shy back in that direction as we speak.”

“Another concern is site two's location. It is not part of our turf, so we cannot move too carelessly. Who is holding Willowville now?”

Viola raised her hand again.

“Yes, Viola.”

“Willowville is still up for grabs but no one has made a move because the community living there is protected by guardians.”

“Guardians?” Switch stared straight into Viola's eyes. For some reason, the latter squirmed. “Who?”

“No one knows their names. Supposedly freelancers that take on odd jobs.”

Switch rubbed a chrome thumb along her sharp jawline. “Another factor to consider.”

“While we're on the subject of factors to consider, do we even know what we're going into?” Melody, once again asking the important questions.

“They will have likely stepped up their security measures since your last endeavor. I would assume double stacked personnel, alongside heavier armaments.” Harry points back up to the projection, gesturing towards site one. “I would believe them to mostly be stationed inside of the warehouse at site one, while they may use the open nature of site two to spread out.”

Switch crossed her shiny arms and mulled over the options. “Very well. I will lead one team and hand the reins of the other to Stiletto.”

“Me?” Stiletto stopped sipping from her Sploshee cup.

“Yes, you. Your ability to improvise will be crucial. I will take Hotrod and Mary on my team and we will strike the one surrounded by a junkyard. The choke point would be ideal for Mary's suppressive fire. Growler, Melody, make sure you follow Stiletto's command.”

“I will offer my services for this operation to whatever extent you may require it.” Harry turned her attention back to Switch.

“Excellent. A sniper of your caliber is a luxury. Stiletto, take Harridan into account of your planning.”

Stiletto dropped her Sploshee cup this time. “You want me to plan?”

“You want her to plan?” Melody echoed.

Switch alternated her staring at the two. “Did I speak in another language?”

“Uh, no, Captain.” Melody averted her gaze and looked really hard at the map projection like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Then there is no problem.”

“No problem, Captain.”

Switch nodded. “Team huddles. We leave in thirty minutes. No time to waste.”