In Need of Assistance? (TF2)

Forty-One: Not a Boom and Certainly not a Baby

        I groan as I rest my head on the steering wheel, trying to mentally prepare myself for what's about to unfold. This could get messy. Really messy if I'm not careful, and previous interactions have shown me that 'careful' is out of the window the second I try. Just act natural. Improvise if you need to. It can't get much worse than this. The lives of a thousand people are at stake, including Salvador's.

There's only one thing to do, and it's my job. I can't let my emotions get the best of me. Collecting myself, I take off my seatbelt and grab my purse, gun, and phone from the back seat, stepping out of the car with Pyro and putting on a hard expression. Demo, Soldier, and Engie meet up with us in the parking lot, weapons and tools in hand. They don't know. None of them know how god awfully terrified I am. Not for another person, anyway.

"Got everything?" I ask to confirm.

"Aye, lass," Demo confirms.

I look all of them over once more, taking off the last pipe bomb from Demo's vest and handing it to him so he can put it away. "Good, let's go. I'll do all the talking, you guys just make sure we put an end to this."

"Understood, Ma'am," Soldier salutes as he holds his shotgun in one arm, rested on his shoulder, like a bayonet. Engie hands off a second toolbox to Demo.

"Put your debris in there so we can dispose of it later," Engie says.

"Demo, Soldier, you're with me. Engie, Pyro, get moving. We only have six hours to pull this off."

"C'mon," Engie hoists his toolbox over his shoulder and runs to the auditorium with Pyro in tow. It's bleak today and for good reason. The autumn chill is setting in, and the sun is out, but the rays are washed out and look artificial. We approach the black and brown castle-styled building with quickness in our step, walking past a fountain and down some concrete steps to get to the main office. I go in and stand at the receptionist's desk with Demo and Soldier standing behind me, the woman slowly looks up from her magazine and gawks at us.

"Can I... Help you?"

"I need to speak to the headteacher," I demand.

"He's busy."

Soldier comes up and sets his shotgun down on the desk. "This is a matter of national security, sister, your country needs you."

She ogles the shotgun and then Soldier, pressing a button on her intercom. "Channing, there are people here to speak with you."

"I'm in my nine o'clock," he differs.

"No, no, I really think you should talk to these people," she insists, glancing at me but only seeing the cold urgency in my expression.

He sighs. "Send them in." She stands up to walk to one side of the desk to open a security door, letting us in and pointing to an office at the end of the hall. I step inside and let the other two in before closing the door and refusing to take the seat on the other side of the headteacher's desk. He lifts an eyebrow at me. "Angry parent, I presume?"

"No, sir, your school at risk of being blown up," I cut to the chase.

"If you're a representative for Penwright--"

"This is a life-or-death issue, Bertrum Channing, does it look like we're here about rivaling boarding schools?" I huff, and he sits up at my tone. "Listen to me carefully because we all die in six hours if you don't: There are six different bombs on your campus that were methodically placed to ensure that it leaves no one alive because of a property dispute. Evacuation is not an option, and mass panic is not an option. You are going to let us into your building as a maintenance team as we disarm them and keep everyone alive."