"What's that?" she asked.

"Form-fitting body armor. I had it made for me some years ago. Pretty expensive, so it's a valuable incentive not to gain weight." Maneuvering the towel, he pulled on a pair of long shorts with what seemed to be additional padding in the front and rear thighs. Those in place, he let the towel drop and began strapping other pieces onto his body, covering and protecting vital organs.

"You seem to be expecting trouble," she said, almost casually.

Kyle had gone to retrieve his magical foci from the bathroom. "I guess I am." He slipped them on and activated them. "All things considered."

Just over an hour later, he pulled into the intersection of Sangamon and Randolph and confirmed that the Knight Errant trucks were still present. Some of them had moved since earlier in the day, but the main Citymasters were still there. He'd gone past the Brotherhood warehouse too. Except for the absence of the dog, nothing seemed to have changed there either.

He made a left onto Randolph, taking the center lane to avoid the many trucks that dominated the one-way inner roadway. Three men, husky and dressed far too warmly for the weather loitered near the trucks, eyeing everyone who passed. Kyle continued on another block and turned into the inner roadway, stopping a dozen meters shy of the trucks. The three men watched him, then one broke away from the group and headed toward Kyle as he was climbing out of the car.

"Hey there," the man said when close enough to talk. "We're gonna have to back this thing up outta here in a couple minutes. You better not park there."

Kyle smiled. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," he said. “Tell Captain Ravenheart that Kyle Teller would like to talk with her."

If the man was surprised he didn't show it. He merely nodded and turned away slightly, his mouth and throat moving, an obvious sign that he was subvocalizing, probably into a hidden microradio or cybernetic headware system. Within moments, he turned back to Kyle and said, "You're clear. Lead truck."

Kyle nodded. "Do I still need to move my car?"

"Not yet. We'll let you know."

"Thanks." Kyle walked forward, past the second truck, casually noticing the structural reinforcing, the barest signs of armor plating, and the flat mesh of military antenna in a strip near the roof. As he came to the front truck, one of its doors opened, a small stair folded out, and a casually garbed, buzz-cut man stepped out.

He nodded to Kyle and motioned him up the stairs.

"Not going to frisk me?" Kyle said.

"No, sir."

"Appreciate it." Kyle climbed the stair, and pushed carefully past the black curtains that hung just beyond the doorway. The interior was lit with flat green lighting, but where the Eagle Security command van had been cramped and overcrowded, the Knight Errant vehicles were spacious and efficient, as testified by the obvious comfort of the six individuals present. He saw computer consoles with large touchscreen displays that served double duty as control and data and trideo monitors. A long bank of them showed the exterior of the garnered Citymasters and the surrounding neighborhood, including multiple views of the Brotherhood warehouse. Another showed a truck full of troopers, dim figures in black body armor, waiting. From the way they were arming up, Kyle didn't think they'd be waiting long.

"Looks like I got here just in time," Kyle said.

None of the occupants of the command and control area seemed amused, save one.

"You owe me fifty, Vathoss," Anne Ravenheart said, smiling slightly as she turned in one of the console chairs. She was already geared up in her black body armor. A tactical helmet hung from the side of the chair. Beyond her, Sergeant Vathoss frowned at both her and Kyle.

"I left my credstick in my other pants," he said sourly.

"Null sweat," she told him, glancing over her shoulder at him and then back at Kyle. "I know you know Sergeant Vathoss," she said, "and Lieutenant Gersten." Vathoss didn't acknowledge the mention and continued working the combat data console he was prepping. Gersten, however, seated to the rear of the cabin and apparently doing nothing more useful than scratching under the collar of his combat armor, nodded.

"Across from me"-she gestured to the tall Japanese' woman on the opposite side of the cabin-"is Sergeant Sakai." The woman didn't directly acknowledge the mention either, but Kyle wasn't surprised. Three hyper-speed optical cables ran from the base of her neck and plugged into her chair, which was, in turn, part of and directly connected to her console. What he could see of her eyes were focused on something invisible to anyone else. She was the tac-ops officer, in charge of coordinating and tracking unit and individual movement once an operation began. Again, from the intense look on her face and the visible activity on her console, the preliminary stages were already underway.

"And lastly," Ravenheart said, indicating with her eyes the older and at least partially Amerindian man standing directly behind her, "I'd like to introduce you to Roger Soaring Owl, CEO of Knight Errant."

Soaring Owl, who looked more like an accountant despite his combat armor, nodded at Kyle. "I'll have you know that I came very close to losing that bet myself," he said in an almost deliberately slowed voice. "Fortunately, I changed my mind."

Kyle stepped forward and hesitantly extended his hand. The shorter man shook it vigorously. Kyle didn't know much about Roger Soaring Owl, but he did know the man answered only to Damien Knight, himself the CEO of Ares Macrotechnology. For him to be here, and fully geared, actually frightened Kyle. He hadn't heard that Soaring Owl was any kind of adrenaline junkie or even a hands-on manager, and that meant this operation was very important to Ares.

"You're not going, by the way," Soaring Owl said in the moment of silence after they shook hands. Kyle saw Ravenheart smile and spin back to her console.

"Going?" asked Kyle.

"On the raid."

"I should think you'd want all the help you could get."

Sergeant Sakai's voice interrupted them. "Astral teams report they're staging point one."

"Thank you," said Ravenheart just as Soaring Owl was telling Kyle, "We appreciate the offer, but we're all set." He smiled slightly. "We've done this before."

"So have I," Kyle said.

"Yes, the Eagle raid. We have it all recorded if you'd ever like to see it. Many men and women died there for no reason. We had the situation in hand."

Kyle felt cold. “The cocoons…?"

"No," Soaring Owl said. "The troopers. Those poor souls who were cocooned are lost. Nothing could be done for them."

"Based on what I saw in that raid, you need all the magical help you can get," Kyle said. "Conventional weaponry is only of limited use, grenades and rockets are useless, and considering the metaphysics, I can't see drone or remote weaponry being of any real help either."

Soaring Owl nodded. "You're right, but we're prepared. Eighty percent of the assault force is magically active-either full blooded magicians, sorcerers, or physical adepts. They'll have drone cover against the flesh forms, which gunfire seems to cut down just fine. They'll also be supported by a cadre of elementals and watcher spirits inside, and a circle of them outside as backup and to catch any that try to break free. We've also got four shamans, all combat-trained, who will turn the place inside out magically. There's going to be a world of drek flying into that building in thirty minutes, Mr. Teller, but you're not going to part of it."

Kyle scowled, but knew it was useless trying to change Soaring Owl's mind.

Then the older man smiled and gestured to the multitudes of display monitors. "You can, of course, watch."