The morning brought good news. Fairbanks had gotten his drones up. The first flights prioritized local security: widening loops around Tierman's HQ, then up to and around Broadway. The Garden settlement was too far from the airfield for a return flight for the first few short range drones they'd gotten back into service, but there were plans to send a team up to fly from there within a day or two. Best of all, Rebecca's old neighborhood was just within the small drones' flight, loiter, and return range, and the solar panels were still there. The area looked quiet, but the UAV was operating right at the fringe of its range, and couldn't scout a path between the armory and Garden. That would have to wait until the launch crew came to visit, and could send a drone cruising southwards.

Still, Rebecca was optimistic. At worst, maybe they could head down to the airfield, and then laterally along a path within the UAV operating radius. Ronnie was working on routes she wanted recon'ed, and what vehicles to use. That left Rebecca and Sam to figure out how to get the panels disconnected and down.

The afternoon found them up in the radio room on the fifth floor, swapping high fives with Nate on the way in and waving to his mother in the hallway. One of the other residents, an early 30's dark haired caucasian man Rebecca knew as Carl, nodded to them. "Need to make a call, ladies?"

Rebecca smiled and nodded. "Yes please. All quiet after Ronnie's call about the drones?"

"Yup. In that case, I think I'll take the opportunity to stretch my legs and take a bathroom break." He rose from the chair in front of the table of radio gear and gestured towards it, before stepping around the women and exiting.

Rebecca sat in the chair, and looked up at Sam as she rested her weight against the table beside her. "I wonder what Cat and her gang are up to. I really would have thought they'd spend more time here, until it finished warming up."

"I guess once the snows stopped, they figured it was good enough weather to get on the road again. They really seem to get twitchy staying in one place."

"True enough." Rebecca fiddled with the radio briefly, checking the frequency it was set to transmit on, and then keyed up the mic. "Phoenix one, Phoenix one, copy?" She waited several moments, and tried again, after which a staticky reply came back.

"Hold for Phoenix one, please." An unfamiliar male voice answered, and then a few minutes later, Catherine's voice came on.

"Queen Phoenix here. Who summons me?"

Rebecca chuckled and shook her head at Sam. "Hey your highness. You all doing okay out there?" She knew Cat would recognize her voice, and better to avoid names on the airwaves just in case. She was still erring on the side of paranoia after their run-in with a very well equipped private military company last year.

"Yup, just sifting through yet another warehouse. Looking to place an order?"

"Yeah, but... not along our usual lines. Have you seen any bucket trucks around? Like, from the phone, cable, or power companies — for working on stuff up on poles."

There was a pause, probably while Cat looked at one of her companions with a bemused or perplexed face. "Uhhh... yeah, here and there. I think I remember where we might have passed something recently. Dare I ask?"

"Welllll... probably better not to say until I see you. When you're done there, do you think you could swing back and check on the one you saw? It could help with something really, really big, for all of us."

"Eh, alright. When and where are you hoping to get your hands on it?"

"Do you remember where we pulled that last all nighter finishing that assignment?" (She meant her old apartment. There had been a lot of pizza and caffeine involved as the two of them and another classmate ground out the last of a final project accounting for 30% of their grade. Not that the grade mattered anymore.)

"Yeah, roger that."

"Great. I can't promise the snacks will be as good this time, but... maybe in a week? I'll let you know exactly in a few days."

There was another short delay. "Alright, copy. Hopefully we don't need to put too much fuel into the thing, if so, we might need you to replace it."

"Sure, I get it. We'll do right by you." Yeah, about that. A few gallons probably wasn't going to be a problem soon, but she shouldn't announce that over the radio. It could just wait to be a fun surprise for Cat.

"Yeah, okay. I guess you do make a point of it. Call me."

"You got it, good hunting."

"Thanks. Phoenix out."

They hung out in the radio room for a few more minutes waiting for Carl to get back. As Rebecca set down radio mic, Sam chuckled. "You're not going to tell her about the changes to the neighborhood?"

"I mean, security aside..." Rebecca grinned. "I think that's a conversation better had in person. Maybe when she's just drunk enough to be relaxed, and not enough to be hostile."

"That sounds like a thin knife to balance on. Is she gonna think we sold out to The Man?"

"Probably... but she's a pragmatist, she'll probably come to appreciate the benefits. Grudgingly, as the folks in her crew come around one by one."

"Hmm. It's an odd lifestyle, they've chosen. I get moving to greener pastures, but... it would make more sense if resources were replenishing, like migrating tribes." Sam stood, and paced to the window and back.

"I mean, maybe the world will grow back to that point, if enough folks prod it along. At least Cat and hers are helping in their own way, not just circling like vultures."

"Yeah, fair. I appreciate that she hasn't been circling YOU like one."

Before Rebecca could reply, they heard the sounds of someone walking in the hallway. She'd been around Ronnie enough over the last almost-year to recognize the sounds of her stride, and called out to greet her before she rounded the corner. Sam looked at her quizzically for a moment, and chuckled when Rhonda came around the corner.

"Hey girls. How're things?"

"Hi Sarge!" Sam greeted Ronnie with her usual informality. "Remy's found us a bucket truck. Well, maybe."

Rebecca didn't think it was that sure of a thing yet (but she was still hoping it was). "Cat thinks she remembers seeing one earlier and is going to check for us. I guess we'll see."

"Huh. Cool. Well, fingers crossed. I had a chat with Fairbanks earlier, and was actually coming back up to see if he'd called back..."

Rebecca shook her head tentatively. "I think Nate or Carl would have said something when we came in, and it's been quiet since we've been here.'

"Okay. Well, the draft version of our plan is to take a handful of Humvees and a cargo truck down with us. If we're winding through neighborhood streets, the behemoth might have a hard time. Plus, there's the whole issue of balancing scaring the shit out of locals against scaring off hostiles. They've got one armored Humvee touting a grenade launcher, which we're hoping will be enough along with the MG's and small arms."

Sam piped up. "If we run into trouble, how fast can help get to us?"

"They're going to scale back other excursions while we're out, so they should be able to have a decent sized Quick Reaction Force to us inside of fifteen minutes. It'll probably be smaller than our original group, but should be enough to help us disengage."

Rebecca eyed a map tacked up on the wall above the radios. "Will the roads slow them down? Still no aircraft, huh?"

"No helos yet, and no jet fuel to put in their turbines if we had them either. The highway north from the CP should be pretty clear with all of the patrols they've been running, before heading west on the same local four-lane. So, they should be able to follow the path we clear. Or, if that goes to shit, even go overland through a few fields and yards."

"I guess the one upside of the beast is being able to push things out of the way. Will the Humvees have enough muscle for that?"

Rhonda shrugged. "Maybe not as dramatically, but they'll move a car at a time, no problem. If there's a bus or semi in the way, we'll have to detour. But, we didn't see any from the drone overflight, so really the only unknown is a handful of underpasses."

"I guess we can't expect too much recon when we ARE the recon."

"True enough."

Sam spoke up again. "Sarge, that makes me think. About what we technically are. Has there been any talk about like, legitimizing us? What makes us any different from a ragtag bunch of leftovers wandering around looting shit? When it was just individual communities scavenging to get by, that's one thing, but if we're going to start commandeering stuff and flying a flag as we do it...should we, like, have a flag to fly?"

Ronnie nodded. "Amira and Tierman are talking about that, for sure. They're still working on how to give anything they come up with some authenticity and valid authority, so we're not just a bunch of jackasses with guns and all, but they're thinking about it. For the time being, we'll still just have to ask people nicely." Sam seemed temporarily mollified, she could certainly accept it wasn't an easy thing to solve. But, she probably wouldn't like what was coming next. "There's another thing, though. If you're going inside, making your way to your apartment, you're going to be in close quarters. Tight even for the Tavor, Bex. I know you've practiced with my P90, and Sam, your Vector is a mean little beast at home in its natural environment in CQB. But..." She reached into a pocket and pulled out two blue plastic knife-shaped training blades. "If some crazy tackles you from behind a door, you need to be ready. Let's go."

Rebecca looked down at her hands, nails still glittering from the night before (for the first time in ages). Sam's were a simpler job, solid colors but pristinely applied. "Oh, come on, Ronnie. This is the first time we've gotten prettied up in months, and you're going to make us ruin it so soon?"

"Oh, we're stopping to get your gear. All of it."