fuguzawaz, on 16 December 2011 - 10:35 PM, said:
"So many things could go wrong with the situation. This clinic, if there even is a clinic, who runs it? Who would run one in the middle of a war zone?" Dop said, merely thinking aloud.
"What if he turns us in?"
He turns to the two men and attempts to look a little less frail, despite his arm.
"Plus that bag is bothering me, perhaps we should give it a look before we take off somewhere with this guy..."
Alex shook his head and turned towards the kid.
Not the smartest tool in the shed, Alex thought.
And the last thing we need is to break out into another standoff.
"Look kid, I'm not the one with my arm in a sling. I'm just as happy to walk out that door and never see any of you again. Or to let you go on your way and leave me behind. The only thing I won't agree to is a mugging. I think that's pretty reasonable."
Alex turned to the group.
Two mechwarriors and a mechanic? Jesus, if their stories pan out, we just hit a goldmine! Mechanics were in incredibly high demand, and flying skills were a definite plus.
As for the two men, Alex knew just how rare finding a mechpilot was--the skills required to properly operate a mech were hard to come by, and most people couldn't do it. He also knew that there was some overlap between mech piloting and aero piloting--while Alex wasn't particularly aware of any spare mechs lying around, he figured having some basic pilots around could be a bonus. Plus, if they were ex-military, they probably had some basic infantry training. If these randoms also had their own mechs, Alex knew the people standing in front of him could be game-changers.
Alex looked at Kavin
. Middle of the class? No commission? Killed two officers? Alex decided the guy was either lying or extraordinarily bad at his profession. But the potential benefit of an actual mech... Assuming the guy could avoid piloting a mech through civilian apartment buildings, Alex figured a ****** pilot was better than no pilot. And hell, the mech could always be "repossessed" if the guy proved incompetent.
As for Kafka, his story seemed more believable. Alex had heard of the Centauri Lancers--in the same way he'd heard of the Wolf Dragoons or Kell Hounds. They were a famous outfit, and this guy seemed self-assured and in control.
Could be true...
"As for medical supplies, this building has eight stories, plus the warehouse, basement, and garage. If memory serves, every floor had to have two basic med-kits, and there was a small nurse's office on the second floor."
Alex turned to Eiko, "I was on the eight floor. As part of the General Counsel's office, I didn't make it down to the garage or warehouse much. But, surely you guys had to have something in case of a workplace accident, right?"
Alex didn't want to push the point, but he figured the girl would get the idea. If she was a mechanic, there's no way she was heading up to the offices on a regular basis. She was blue collar. The eight floor was upper management. She could have been at B-G for twenty years, and they'd never have met, unless she was one of the pilots for the company's private helicopters--and even then there'd have to be some serendipity.
"But unless one of you guys is a surgeon, all the medkits in the world aren't going to do much good for your friend Kavin. You might slow his bleeding or dull the pain, but he's going to die without a transfusion. And a band-aid isn't going to patch up a ballistic trauma wound."
"Now, I know a place that's doing basic medical triage. They're not setting up billboards or advertising, but they are treating people who need help. It's a word-of-mouth thing. So it looks like you've got three options. You can stay here and let me leave. You can leave and let me stay. Or we can go to the clinic and get your wounded checked out."
Alex glanced at his watch. While he had come here alone, he wasn't stupid. A patrol was going to swing by in 20 minutes if he didn't report in. Worst case, he figured he could stall this group until his friends showed up.
"By the way, I'm Rob Cohen."
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