Chapter 14 – Heist: The Rotherhithe Raid

Soundtrack: Private Eyes – Hall and Oates

8th of September, 1890.

The following morning, the octet sat down to discuss details over French toast and coffee.

"So as I understand it," Weiss started, "we've got the rest of our personal Dust rounds to do first, then we get started on the Gatling gun rounds once Dr. Verhart arrives."

"Pretty much," Blake admitted. "Ruby was nothing if not efficient when it came to the work."

Ruby somehow managed to beam and blush at the same time, causing Weiss to stifle a laugh and the others to smirk.

"What sort of quantities are we looking at, for the record?", Blake asked with her pen in hand.

"My weapon's scythe mode means that I won't need any more cartridges than the others," Ruby noted, "but I predominantly use ice cartridges for the elephant gun, along with anti-gravity and lightning as the situation requires. So … with the stuff we have to work with, I'd suggest 40 ice cartridges, and 20 each of the lightning and anti-grav cartridges."

"By cartridge, you refer to your bespoke rounds, I take it?", Weiss asked.

"Yes," Ruby replied. "I make .50 caliber rounds with two shots of Dust powder each."

Blake, Weiss and Nora nearly spat out their respective cups of Earl Grey, English Breakfast and Irish coffee.

"That's the same as a Gatling!", a surprised Ren exclaimed.

"However do you deal with the recoil and Dust usage?", an equally surprised Weiss enquired.

Ruby suddenly realised that no-one, save Yang and Jaune, had actually seen her fight. "Well, my fighting style revolves around swift movements. My party trick is to fire an anti-grav cartridge behind me, and allow the recoil to propel me forward when I lunge with my scythe. That and the scythe-blade also acts as a stand for the gun when I'm at range, so I'm never blown off-course by the recoil. As for the Dust usage, my father runs a mining/engineering company that helps build new equipment for the army and the militarised parts of the SDC; getting Dust is child's play for me."

The resultant stunned silence was deftly broken by the ever-professional Blake.

"Good to know. So with you needing .50 bespoke rounds – which I'm sure Dr. Verhart can manage to make with your guidance – there's the matter of Yang and myself. I will be using 4 standard clips each of .40 caliber crimson Dust rounds and violet Dust rounds in my main weapon, and 4 clips of .32 crimson rounds with my holdout pistol. Fortunately, I'll only need to construct the .32 caliber rounds, along with 1 clip each of the .40 rounds. What about you, Yang?"

Yang perked up. "Well, I use conventional 12-gauge shotgun rounds with my scatterguns. I usually carry 2 clips per gun, but I can carry more if needed."

"3 clips each should do the trick," Weiss concluded, and Blake duly noted that in her book. "But you don't use Dust munitions?"

"Considering that the guns are a last-resort to my fists and gauntlets, I never saw the need to use Dust bullets."

Weiss nodded slowly. "Well, I have seen you fight. I'd say you'd benefit from crimson-golden Dust rounds. That'll help give us an edge over the enemy, and it'll be fairly similar to the run-of-the-mill fare you're used to."

"Are there any differences in behaviour worth knowing about?", Yang asked.

Blake concentrated for a moment, then answered. "The only thing would be an increased range and speed, but a slightly narrower blast radius to compensate."

Yang nodded. "I guess that's reasonable." The sight of Nora nodding in agreement was enough assurance for Yang that Blake wasn't talking out of her backside.

"What should we use for the Gatling guns, for the record?", Jaune asked. "I'd hate for one stray super-bullet to destroy a shop front or something."

Weiss nodded slowly. "Fair point, Jaune. I'm inclined to leave that to Dr. Verhart once he arrives; he'll likely have several options with pros and cons, knowing him."

Blake chuckled. "Even down to which jackets he should make the bullets from."

Dr. Verhart Grünwald arrived at the stroke of noon, having ferried a small country's worth of components to the safehouse with him. Blake went outside to greet him, with Jaune and Nora volunteering to cart in the boxes of parts and tools for the elderly engineer.

"How good to see you, Blake," the venerable Ruritanian greeted as he alighted from the groom's carriage.

"Likewise, Grünwald," the secretary responded as she shook his hand. "We've managed to get almost all of our rounds completed, save for some bespoke .50 cartridges."

"Ah yes," the old man replied as he walked to the door with Blake. "Good news, that is. Won't take long to make, the Gatling rounds will."

Blake nodded. "True enough, but I'd imagine integrating the batteries of the motorcycles and sidecars would take some time, given that singular task eluded Ruby's unaided skills this morning."

"It would," Dr. Verhart replied, "but working alone, I'm not. High and dry, we should be."

Blake chuckled. "Good point. Now, just what did you have in mind for the Gatling rounds?"

Five minutes later, Dr. Verhart had organised the basement's staff. Nora was responsible for mixing and injecting the four Dust types he'd arranged, while Blake was rigging the sidecar machine guns with the switching system he'd rigged up. Yang was in charge of creating the bullet jackets and sealing the Dust within their enclosures, while Ruby was assisting Dr. Verhart with the overwhelming task of integrating the sidecars and motorcycles.

By the time they'd finished at four thirty, the sidecars had a four-way switching system that alternated between azure, crimson, cobalt and tangerine Dust rounds. There were one hundred bullets of each Dust type in each sidecar, allowing for a wide array of countermeasures against the villains. Azure could freeze wheels to the streets, crimson would set fire to the carriage, cobalt could knock the cart off-balance and tangerine could puncture steel. And while Dr. Verhart began to load up the vehicles with weapons and fuel the batteries, the others washed up, donned their combat garb and ascended to the top floor for a Ren-provided high tea.

It was a magnificent spread, even by Weiss's standards. Ren had made two whole sandwiches per person; half the sandwiches were chicken with lettuce, tomato and pickle spread, and the other half was ham, cheese, cucumber and mayonnaise. A dozen scones sat in the middle of the table upon a plate, with clotted cream and strawberry jam at the ready. Ren had brewed a pot each of Morrocan coffee and Devonshire tea, setting them at opposite ends of the room.

"I never believed that I'd ever say it, but I'm quite envious of you, Pyrrha," Weiss admitted. "I wish my butler could cook half as well as Ren can."

Pyrrha and Jaune both laughed, while Blake playfully admonished Weiss. "I hope you'll never tell Klein you said that."

After an hour, Ren had finished his food and was consequently keeping watch from the southern wall as the others joked and laughed. Suddenly, he noticed a warehouse's front door open up in the distance. He jumped out of his chair as he saw the woman that still haunted his dreams emerging from it.

"Enemy sighted," he bugled in his best "there's a snob at the door" voice, well developed from his time as a butler.

That announcement halted the conversation in it's tracks. Weiss sped to the window Ren was standing next to and saw Cinder opening the locks to a warehouse some distance down Rotherhithe Avenue.

"BATTLE STATIONS!", Weiss cried out.

The octet sped down the two flights of stairs to the basement, sprinting and stumbling into the workshop. Noting that Dr. Verhart had already placed weapons in their designated sidecars with the ammunition, they all piled onto the hydraulic lift with the motorbikes, sidecars and leg-breaking equipment.

"Fill the ammunition up and recharged the batteries, I have done," Dr. Verhart called over the noise as he pressed the switch for the lift. "Good luck, everyone."

"Thanks, Dr. Verhart," Weiss replied kindly, before steeling herself as the view from the street level started to become visible. As fate would have it, the second the lift stopped at its mark and the gate opened was the same second the warehouse down Rotherhithe Street finished opening up.

All eloquence and confidence that lay in Weiss's system dissipated when Cinder and her cohorts departed. A heavily modified and armoured vehicle spilled forth onto the dockside street, with a cannon perched atop the bizarre contraption. Remembering that the first robbery in July saw a number of concept designs for vehicles and weapons go missing, Weiss now realised just what brand of monstrosity Cinder had unleashed onto London. Her choice of words perfectly summed up how pear-shaped the situation was as Cinder whizzed past and turned left down Salter Road.

"OH SHIT! CINDER'S IN A TANK!"

A/N: All that build-up for an Achievement Hunter reference. Beautiful, isn't it.

I must say, that punch-line was the first thing I ever wrote for the story last year, after scoping out the basic plot details - so yeah, I've been holding that one in for some time. And yes, the occupation of Ruby's father is another tie-in to Mechanica Aurantiaco.

My thanks to the last reviewer who wrote in recently; reading what you said was so uplifting, and I'm happy that I'm pleasing long-time fans of the AU with my efforts. I hope the last chapter's sleepy cuddle scenes were to your liking, too.

A car chase awaits you all next time. Stay tuned!