Actually, Louis was on the wall, a fact Marcus noticed as he left the Mayor’s Office.
“Really, he wants us to get that thing out? @!#$. Its heavy as s**t. Well, lets get to er.”
What passed as the Armory sat dead-center of the main fortification at RedTower, a heap of broken concrete, cinder blocks and dirt with a girder and corrugated steel roof, with more dirt and broken concrete on top. Two heavy doors barred entry, opened with a windlass.
Normally, there was a guard posted right at the door, but with everyone out and on the walls, the armory was theirs alone.
The interior was just a photogenic as its outsides, a flickering light panel its sole source of illumination. Rough shelving held an assortment of extra weapons, mostly poor quality weapons barely more than tools and knives tied to sticks. Some shield of various types, again of
The double mike held pride of place in the armory though, its dark green paint job in reasonably good condition, and its solid-rubber wheels in decent shape.
“Grab one of those barrels there, “ said Louis, pointing to a number of squat barrels labeled with crude explosive signs. He was grunting and lifting a case of metal projectiles for the gun and balancing it across the gun’s carriage.
Before long, they were on their way, heavy gun in tow, though its weight posed a major challenge.
“Wait till we need to get it up to the ‘turret’, said Louis, grinning in spite of the exertion.