Chương 42: Chapter 39: Final Preparations

After setting the eggs on the counter and letting Denise and Alex have their moment, I headed into the garage and grabbed Chad's socket wrenches. I climbed into the back of the van and went to work, completely unbolting and removing the rear bench seat. I had less than three hours before the rest of the assault team arrived, and I still needed to fit the kids' gear and arm them. Looking at the remaining space, I realized the two captain's chairs in the middle row had to go too.

Everyone would just have to be okay with sitting on the floorboards for the couple of miles it would take to get to the school. While I tore down the interior, I handed the drone cases over to Chad so he could hook the controllers and frames directly into his off-grid deep-cycle battery bank. We needed to ensure those batteries were topped off at one hundred percent before we rolled out.

"How are we doing on the power reserve anyway?" I asked him, wiping grease from my hands.

"Not too terribly bad," Chad said, leaning against his workbench.

"But we're definitely drawing more than we're making with these portable solar tenders. Two deep-cycle batteries can run an RV for about three days before they need a serious recharge, but RVs usually have heavy power hookups or massive roof panels. Our little fold-out chargers can only do so much. I figure we have about another week of keeping the handheld radios juiced and cooking on the electric heating element. After that, the bank is going to be pretty well spent."

"Hopefully, we won't have to wait longer than tonight or tomorrow to fix that problem permanently," I said. Chad nodded slowly.

"Hopefully." Once the van was cleared out, I grabbed four of the Glock 22 sidearms and walked back inside the house. Chad had spent the afternoon loading magazines, ensuring each kid would have one full clip locked into the weapon and two spares secured in the mag pouches on their vests. Pulling the first polymer pistol from its case, I couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship. These were Generation 4 models, complete with factory-ported barrels and slides to reduce recoil.

The police department had recently phased out their older USP. 45s and switched entirely to these Glock 22. 40 calibers. For a split second, I caught myself eyeing a fifth pistol, tempted to mothball my personal sidearm and swap it for one of the new Glocks. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Mine was a trusty. 45 ACP. You simply don't betray a caliber like that. Next, I gathered the rest of the hardware: vests, helmets, duty belts, mag pouches, and holsters.

By a stroke of absolute luck, the tactical holster attached to the vest I'd taken from TJ was left-handed. That was a perfect fit for Alex, who was mostly left-handed—he wrote and shot pistols southpaw, even though he batted and fired long guns right-handed. The kid's internal wiring was a little quirky like that, but tonight it worked entirely in our favor.

I slid the gear onto each nylon belt, adjusting the plastic buckles to fit tightly around the kids' waists, then fitted them into their tactical vests and helmets. I handed Alex my old plate carrier, and he didn't care about the hand-me-down in the least; he was just eager to get to work. Once the sizing was finished, I had all four of them change into their black BDU uniforms and get fully geared up. We filed out into the garage, where I lined them up facing the back wall to run through dry-fire drills.

I had them practice drawing and holstering, then moved to emergency reloading and clearing malfunctions. We ran the cycle over and over for nearly an hour. The kids were thoroughly bored out of their minds running the exact same safety fundamentals I'd been hammering into them since they were little, but they knew how seriously I took firearms safety, so they locked in and executed the movements flawlessly.

Once I was fully satisfied that their muscle memory was sharp, I told them to drop their heavy armor and wash up for dinner. Right on schedule, Joe and his crew rolled up to the house. We still had about thirty to forty-five minutes before the sun dropped low enough to give us the cover of total darkness. Denise had put together another massive batch of stew. Our fresh food supplies were still limited and we had plenty of leftovers from the night before that would start to sour in a day or two anyway.

She'd let the pot simmer for a couple of extra hours, tossing in some additional beef and vegetables. Honestly, you couldn't even tell it was a reheated meal. It tasted wonderful, and like the night before, it triggered the passive nourishment bonus: [Status Effect Active: Nourished] Bonus: +10% to Strength and Constitution attributes. During dinner, we ran through the tactical blueprint one last time. We would navigate the van along the back fenceline of the residential development just west of the school campus.

Jace and Travis would immediately launch the quadcopters over the rooflines to scout out the structures, verifying if anyone was currently occupying the property and checking for active guards. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Once the aerial data came in, we would finalize our approach—either breaching the double gates at the front of the school between the main office and the large gym, or slipping in through the back teacher's parking lot near the Ag sciences building. Once any immediate hostiles were contained, our primary objective was to secure the principal's office, grab the master keys from the secure lockbox, and begin the long process of clearing out the remaining buildings room by room.

After the final bite was finished, the assault team geared up. Joe had brought along a few spare rifle magazines, and I retrieved three ARs and a 12-gauge shotgun from the gun cabinet. Joe had brought his own rifle, which was completely tricked out with all the "high-end cool-guy action gear". I had my own rifle set up in practically the exact same way, because of course I did. Denise and Chad had thankfully grabbed it out of my personal gun safe the night our house was attacked.

However, after looking over my character sheet, I decided to leave my rifle and heavy rucksack inside the van. I was planning to rely heavily on my stealth attributes for this initial breach, so I chose to limit my loadout to my sword, my compound bow, my tactical knives, and my sidearm if things absolutely needed to get loud. I even unhooked my hammer and left it on the workbench, since the hickory handle kept slapping against my leg and making too much noise when I walked.

Alex followed my lead, opting out of a heavy rifle in favor of his bow, his alchemical magic, and the. 40 caliber pistol I'd rigged for him. I tossed him a sturdy bushcraft knife for his belt just in case things got close. Pete and Johnny took the remaining two rifles, leaving one long gun and the 12-gauge shotgun to secure the van. Joe looked over at Isadora, raising an eyebrow as he asked if she actually knew how to handle a rifle.

With a reassuring nod from me, Isadora walked calmly over to the workbench and picked up the weapon. She grabbed a loaded magazine, snapped it cleanly into the mag well, and gave the baseplate a sharp, practiced slap to seat it. She pulled the charging handle back forcefully, let it snap forward, and tapped the forward assist with the heel of her hand. Finally, she flipped the metal dust cover closed over the ejection port, clicked the safety selector to 'safe,' and looked back at Joe with a confident smirk.

Joe couldn't help but smile, nodding his approval. Before we walked out, Alex stepped up and handed a bottle of his homemade health and stamina potions to everyone on the assault team. He passed on Travis, Jace, and Isadora since they would be staying behind to secure the vehicle. He briefly explained the fluid measurements, letting everyone know each bottle contained exactly five full doses. The moment the bottles changed hands, a series of System pings echoed in our minds.

Joe, Pete, and Johnny looked at the item descriptions, visibly blown away by the stat modifiers, and carefully tucked the plastic bottles into their vest pouches and BDU cargo pockets. Alex and I secured our doses right on our chest rigs. While we packed away the alchemy, Chad stepped into the room holding the salvaged police radios, handing them out to anyone who didn't already have a communication line.

"They're all fully charged, and I successfully mapped the internal processors to our neighborhood frequency." Joe reached into his pack and produced a small cardboard box filled with brand-new earpieces.

"Found these tucked inside one of the supply crates we cleared out of the storage house," he said, handing them around.

"Figured if we were going to get these police radios up and running, we might as well use proper earpieces so our chatter isn't blaring out into the dark for the enemy to hear."

"Good thinking," I said with a chuckle, threading the wire under my vest shoulder strap. Finally, Jace unhooked the drones from the battery bank, and Travis took charge of the shotgun. The weapon was a standard police-issue Remington 870 pump-action that held five shells in the magazine tube and one in the chamber. Travis slid a shell into the open port, racked the pump forward, and flipped the safety on.

He then methodically stuffed five more heavy brass shells up into the under-tube, and finished the loadout by filling the six-round side-saddle shell carrier mounted right above the trigger guard. With no more logistical boxes left to check, the team filed out through the garage door and into the side yard. The kids all paused to hug and kiss their mom as they exited the kitchen. I could see the immense strain in Denise's eyes; she was doing everything in her power to hold it together.

In her mind, practically every single person she loved was marching out into a combat zone, but she refused to let the kids see her falter. She wanted their focus entirely on the task at hand. I was the last one inline, catching her by the waist and pulling her into a deep, heavy embrace. I kissed her thoroughly, holding her tight against my chest.

"Bring them home," she whispered against my neck, her voice finally cracking with a few tears.

"And that means you too, love." In a perfect, classic Princess Bride moment, a bright smile broke across my face. I looked into her eyes and answered softly, "As you wish." I kissed her one last time, and as I stepped back, Dog let out a soft, low chuff at her side. Denise wiped a tear from her cheek, kneeling down onto the tile to wrap her arms around the beast's thick neck.

"That includes you as well, big guy," she whispered into his fur.

"Bring our family home safely." Dog gave a single, muffled bark, pushing his massive shoulder into her side to give her a heavy canine hug of his own before turning to follow me out into the dark.