Chapter 33: Final Preparations
In spite of what Rick assumed was a glorious sunrise on the surface, the same pale gloom stretched over the underside of Haven the next morning. Musing on the past, he remembered how the lack of activity regulation by daylight had been so disconcerting. It was an adjustment, that's for sure.
Luckily for him and the others left behind, many old power stations were still functioning, and all that was necessary to keep illumination was to reset the timing on the lamps to make them run constantly. Eventually, without the needed care and maintenance, the generators broke down. Panic gripped along with the darkness, and, after weeks, some individuals were able to hook into the Citizenship power grid. It was, until recent days, the only time that serious unification existed in the down below area. They understood that survival without light would have been impossible.
That had been years ago, and even though some repairs on the patchwork grid were needed and darkness was everywhere whether by burned out bulbs or severed lines, there was still light in some places.
Rick cast the thoughts aside, focusing instead upon his breakfast. As he stuck the dirty fork he always used into the unlabeled can of cold beans he contemplated the same forlorn desire he thought of every single morning.
Coffee. Good strong coffee, maybe with cream and sugar to give it a little extra flavor. Not that he'd ever admit that part to anyone else. Every now and then when reporting to Victor in the morning, he could smell the aroma of fresh coffee wafting through the slit on the door as they spoke. More than once, he had nearly started begging for a taste.
He'd also have killed for some bacon and eggs. Or any sort of fresh, non-canned food. He wiped his fork on the sleeve of his jacket and dropped it back into his pack, tossing the empty can over his shoulder. It clattered on the ground, instantly becoming a part of the décor. With all of the random debris scattered around, Rick wasn't even sure he could have turned around and located it without concentrated effort.
After breakfast, he moved over into the Purgatory building, which was now being guarded round the clock. Elijah and Victor were already sitting at the conference table, looking through sheets of paper with various scribblings. With a casual glance, Rick noted they were counting personnel.
"…accurate estimates of about two hundred with at least rudimentary combat training or decent experience and an additional four hundred battle capable but green."
Rick did a double take, "Really? That many? Where did they all come from?"
Victor replied, "Many of them are associated with Miguel. They lived in his district. He employed a great number of guards and scavengers with promise of protection. That and," he gestured to the paper, "the word of the success against the Citizens spread quickly. When the word reached them that we planned to move out, a few hundred unaffiliated individuals came out of hiding in the last few days."
Elijah frowned and motioned for Rick to take a seat. "Six hundred fighters, more than two-thirds without experience. That's not very many. The Citizenship has more of just Inquisitors than that. That's not even counting the size of their military, which is…" he rubbed his chin, "much larger than that."
Rick held up a finger. "Yes, but how ready are they to mobilize their full military strength within their own city?"
Victor nodded. "They aren't; most of them are probably still deployed or trying to return, and their reserve forces won't be replenished yet." He rubbed his smooth face. "Let us also not forget that most of our forces have likely seen some manner of fighting in their years down here."
"Yeah, but there's a huge difference between 'can fire a gun' and 'can execute tactical maneuvers and take orders when shit goes crazy.' I'm not fond of our odds." Rick responded.
Victor gave a slight smile. "Fortunately, causing a disruption shouldn't require a great deal of intricate tactics."
"Yeah, I guess so." Rick smirked. "In any case, whatever we do will need to be done fast before they can react. Well, and before they drop lethal poison to kill us all."
"Ideas?" Elijah said, looking at Rick.
"A few." Rick gave a thin smile. "What are you doing out here anyway, Klaus?"
Elijah cocked his head slightly and gave a little knowing smile, which faded when Desmond walked into the room. He slouched back into his chair and did his best to look unimportant and bored.
Rick rolled his eyes but put a cordial smile on to greet Desmond.
"I can't stay long," Desmond said, wiping his spectacles on his shirt. "I left Olivia alone gathering supplies and coordinating the move." A smile of reminiscence spread across his face. "She wasn't very happy about that."
The other three, never having been married, exchanged glances and said nothing. Desmond, remembering the company he was in, straightened up and said, "Right, sorry. I came to give you this," he slid a piece of paper onto the table. "Civilian estimates from both Quinton and us."
Victor scanned the information and nodded. "Good. Thank you."
Desmond didn't leave, he stood with a slight hunch and his hands in his pockets and a faraway stare, as though he were waiting for something or distracted. "Is there anything else?" Victor asked him.
Desmond snapped back into reality, "Oh! Ah, yes there is. We need a timetable, instructions, and the location."
Rick piped in, "Don't worry about instructions or timetable; we'll have a few of our people to coordinate that for you. And the location," he tore off a scrap of paper and scribbled on it, "is at this street. If you can," he handed the scrap to Desmond, "try and get moving as soon as possible. Are you familiar with where that is?"
Desmond rubbed the tip of his nose. "Yes, I believe so. South side?"
"That's right."
Desmond clutched the paper in his fist; he gave a little salute with it. "Thank you. I suppose I probably won't be seeing you again."
Victor and Rick exchanged glances. "No, probably not for a while at least," Rick said.
"Then I wish you the best of luck." Desmond gave a little bow then walked out.
Once he was gone, Elijah sat up, "Well?"
Victor looked at the numbers again. "Manageable without too many of our people needed." He turned his eyes towards Elijah. "About one hundred and fifty elderly and children, most of them capable of movement or assisting each other from how it sounds. An additional seventy-five unable or unwilling to fight. The rest have already been distributed among Sergei and Isaac's ranks."
Elijah asked, "What about Matthias?"
Rick shook his head. "His people won't be involved. He was pretty clear on that point."
Elijah scowled. "Lovely." He sifted through some of the sheets. "Which exit will we be taking?"
Rick and Victor exchanged a quick glance. "I will be taking care of the infiltration," Rick said firmly. "You will be with Kaylee in the south with the civilians."
Elijah raised his chin and his eyes narrowed. "Is that so?" he said, sounding more like a statement than a question.
Rick met his intense gaze and nodded. "With respect, sir, you are not going to be able to keep up when we attempt to take the Institute. It will be highly dangerous and probably require intense fighting inside."
Elijah shot a glare at Victor, who didn't react. "You agreed to this?"
Victor gave a short nod and stared at a spot past Elijah, not meeting his eyes.
Elijah's hand shot out, and he grabbed Rick's arm. "You listen," he said, gritting his teeth, "this whole uprising would be nothing without me. I made this happen. You won't cut me out of it."
Elijah's eyes suddenly went wide and the hand gripping Rick's arm began to tremble violently, veins popping out on his neck. Rick did a double take at the sudden change, "Elijah? What's wrong?" he asked with growing concern.
Elijah released his grip and fell back into his chair, breathing in short gasps with sweat beading on his forehead. He clenched his eyes shut, and his mouth hung open with an expression of pain and distress.
Rick was shoved roughly out of the way
as Victor moved over and knelt in front of Elijah. He produced a small syringe that, with a quick couple of taps, he inserted into Elijah's thigh.
Victor remained crouched in front of Elijah, watching him intently. After a moment, Elijah's ragged breath normalized, and a measure of serenity settled into his face. He opened his eyes and put a hand on Victor's shoulder. "Thank you, old friend."
"Of course, however…" he let the phrase linger in the air.
Elijah chuckled, squeezing Victor's shoulder as both men rose to their feet. "I understand; you can't have some frail old man getting in the way."
"What the hell was that all about?" Rick asked.
Elijah moved past Victor and placed his index finger on Rick's chest. "Don't worry about me. Secure the target site, and I will be along shortly after."
Rick opened his mouth to object, but Elijah cut him off. "Ah, ah! No. There's no discussion here. I have to be there. You'll need to tie me up or shoot me," he smiled that soft, kindly smile, "to stop me. I must say hello to an old friend."
Rick sighed and rubbed his forehead. "All right, fine. If by some miracle we pull this off, we'll get you inside." He pointed a finger at him. "I warn you; no one's going to be around to help if you have one of those… whatever that was." He waved his hand dismissively.
"Excellent. Don't worry about me; I will be just fine."
Rick sighed once more. "Great. Fine. Okay… now where were we?"
Victor produced another sheet and rattled off more numbers as Rick leaned forward in his chair, listening and kneading his forehead with his knuckles.
Taking it shouldn't be too tough, but there's no way we can hold it. We are so screwed, he thought.
Uprising Page 72