Three full days had passed since their return. Three dull, silent days where time crawled agonisingly slowly as the wider world seemed to completely forget their existence. Only the infrequent comings and goings of a small handful of people to the Hall proved that time still flowed. It was certainly an unusual, uncomfortable feeling to so quickly go from undertaking an urgent and pivotal mission, to being sidelined on the back burner. A fact that Alter found himself pondering more than once as he wore a small trench in the carpet of his room from his constant pacing. Granted, he should be quietly satisfied with their current position. This peace was allowing them some well-earned and needed rest. While each day was a bore, their passing brought Vangroover closer to being fully healed, and slowly soothed the bruises, aches and pains of their sudden days in the saddle.

  Fortunately, their friends and allies were not sitting as idly as they were. Odd visits from Winslow brought fresh news snippets concerning their efforts to counteract Lord Bertrand’s efforts of destabilisation. While the interrogations of those they had captured during the raid of the Last Flourish hadn’t yielded as much information as had initially been hoped, they had still managed to extract enough to progress with. This, combined with the timely arrival of Raymond and the Silver Wolves, had seen small teams of covert operatives dispatched to various locations around the city. With the loss of the Last Flourish as their base of operations, their opponents would’ve been forced to find a new home. Their captives had surrendered a couple of scant clues as to where their new base was, but these were highly conflicting and it was taking a lot of man hours to narrow down the true location. The other objective they were hunting was the brown-haired man, the leader of the aggravators who had evaded capture during the raid. They still had no name for him, nor history, but what they did have was a small list of sightings in the poorer quarters of the city. It wasn’t much, but Winslow was quietly confident that they were slowly drawing the net closed around him. But, alas, until then they had no orders but to sit and wait. ‘Soon’ was the word that was repeated to them with an apologetic smile. He was really beginning to hate the word. Turning around in order to throw himself backwards onto the bed, a sudden knocking on the door interrupted his frustrated acrobatics.

  “Enter.” He called, and a moment later Riptide stuck his head through the gap between the door and its frame.

  “Keeping yourself entertained?” He asked innocently, but with a teasing grin.

  “Oh sure, having a whale of a time here.” Alter answered with a heavy layer of sarcasm.

  “Well, I think we’ve got something to cure your ailments. Raymond and Winslow just arrived, looks like they’ve got news for us. Are you coming?”

  “Of course I am.” Alter growled.

  He strode quickly towards the door as Riptide dramatically opened it the rest of the way with a bow and flourish. As if sensing that they were moving with purpose, the other members of the squad began to appear through doors and from hallways. By the time they walked out into the training yard, all except Vangroover were in attendance. Their two visitors stood in quiet conversation not too far away, both turned to face them as they arrived.

  “Such prompt arrivals.” Winslow chuckled. “You didn’t even give us a chance to get our stories straight.”

  “Is there something we need to be concerned about?” Alter asked quickly with a frown.

  “Not as such, Captain.” Raymond smiled before giving Winslow a questioning glance.

  “We believe we’ve got a probable location for a new safehouse down in the pebble maze. Our agents have spotted a number of marked individuals coming and going throughout the day.” Winslow explained.

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  “Pebble maze? I don’t think we’re familiar with such a place.” Walross asked with folded arms.

  “It’s one of the older, poorer sections of Jestriff.” Winslow answered sheepishly. “As the name suggests, it's an absolute warren of streets and alleyways, with no two buildings remotely the same. Plenty of places for folks who tussle with law and order to lay low. Which, as you can imagine, makes the prospect of rooting them out quite challenging.”

  “So, you want us to break the door down and rush them before they can escape into however many hidey-holes they’ve got prepared?” Riptide asked.

  “No. Well, not exactly. The guard will be the ones to enter first. Lord Oliver is concerned that you’re … over-efficiency in combat, could result in unnecessary casualties in the event that this is not the safehouse we believe it is.” Winslow awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

  There was a snort from somewhere behind him as Boats spoke up. “So why are you here to talk to us if we’re not going in?”

  Winslow did not immediately answer the disgruntled question, instead choosing to close his eyes for a moment, allowing his chest to rise and fall before opening them again.

  “If I could be allowed to finish speaking. Your role will be similar to what the guards were tasked with during our last joint mission. Blocking the streets to ensure none can slip past us, and none can attempt to reinforce them. As well as potentially entering the building should we need support.” He continued.

  “While this is happening, my men and I shall be underground.” Raymond took over. “We suspect that their most likely escape route will be downward. There’s a complex of tunnels just below street level, from what Winslow has told me they were once used by smugglers and were thought to have collapsed years ago.”

  “They’ve rebuilt them? That would be a lot of rubble to move.” Alter pondered aloud.

  “It would.” Winslow agreed. “We would’ve noticed any major excavation projects, so chances are they’ll only have one or two options available to them.”

  “Which my men can exploit. The mouse never expects the cat to be waiting within the walls.” Raymond smiled.

  “Alright then, all that leaves is to ask when we start?” Riptide clapped his hands together once in anticipation.

  “Soon, and I mean it this time. It’ll take the rest of the day for my disguised men to trickle into the area, and for the Silver Wolves to worm their way into the tunnels. All going well, we will conduct our strike tonight. Keep yourselves ready to be called for.” Winslow nodded.

  “I’m looking forward to working with you, gentlemen. Even if I won’t get to see your capabilities if all goes well.” Raymond bowed slightly.

  Alter returned the gesture and the two men exited the yard. Silence held sway over the assembled men for a moment before Boozehound blew out a breath and folded his arms.

  “That wasn’t much to go off.” He complained.

  “I agree, this all feels a little too rushed.” Walross added. “They didn’t even tell us how many streets we’ll have to cover, plus the fact that we’re still a man down.”

  “And why are they so confident it’ll be an escape tunnel? The last time they simply ran through the roof spaces, that seems like a much easier solution.” Pavejack threw up his arms in protest.

  “Hmmm. I was going to suggest that maybe they haven’t had the time, but if this is indeed a new stronghold then how would they have had time to restore a tunnel?” Boozehound mused.

  “I think we could spend the next couple of hours speculating about that, but it won’t make any difference. We’re not running this show, and we have our orders. Didn’t someone say that no plan ever makes it through first contact? Who knows how this could play out. All we can do is prepare. Come on, it's time for a full equipment inspection.” Alter called a halt to the team complaint session that was forming and ushered the men inside. There was work to do.