The Good Doctor's Tales Folio Eight by Randall Farmer Page B

voice had hummed with charisma, but she had never run into any Focuses with this particular charisma skill.  The warning was real, which gave this form of charisma more power.  She continued to think as she ran down the hall to the weapons closet and unlocked it.  She tossed two long guns to the first bodyguards trotting up.
    Th e speaker had to be someone I’ve met, she thought.  Someone I’ve interacted with at the juice level, or at least the charisma level.  That’s how I know this is a true warning.
    A grim smile crossed her face as she ran down the stairs to prop open the back door of her row house to the warm afternoon sun.  As they would be selling this place when it went bad, they couldn’t bore holes through the walls separating the individual units – not to mention the fire code violations – but they could arrange for defensive connections through the back yards.  Fences were far easier to remove and put back than interior walls.
    “Spotters,” Tonya said , attracting the attention of the two closest house guards.  Todd and Russell clambered up the thin metal ladders they had installed, to the row house roof.  The roof itself was too steep for good footing, but they had installed narrow level wooden pathways and guide-ropes.
    Keaton.  The caller had to be Keaton.  Which meant Tonya’s plans and preparations had worked – arranging for a nearby Philadelphia safe house for Keaton to recuperate in, keeping Zielinski here so Keaton, a very guilty Keaton, would be fixated on Tonya’s residence, and her repeated charismatically-backed comments to the Arm that if she helped Tonya, Tonya would help her.
    Tonya’s smile widened as she thought about Arm charisma, which is what she had just experienced.  Drill s ergeant charisma.  Excellent for combat operations.  If she successfully forged an alliance with Keaton, she would have a Major Transform as part of her household security team.
    “Got them, ma’am,” Todd said, from the roof.  “Forty or so, well-armed, and I believe with a Focus among them.”
    Forty.  So, Tonya thought.  Who was going to end up the trapper and who the trappee?  Forty was more than she thought Focus Julius could muster for an attack.  About double Tonya’s best estimate.
    This didn’t bode well.  Perhaps her impolite, taunting and threatening phone call – to induce Julius to attack – hadn’t been such a bright idea.  Yet, unless Julius broke the implicit no-violence ‘truce’, the Council would continue to lose their nerve, and continue to postpone, indefinitely, the necessary full-scale assault on Julius’s household.
    Tonya put her hand on the brick facade of the row house, taking a moment to breathe deeply and steady herself for combat.  Just like hunting Monsters.  Only this time, the Monster was a Focus and her troops, and the kill zone would be the entryway to her own home.
    “Set it up for internal defense Blue,” Tonya said, gathering her armed me n, who were streaming out of the other row houses into the bright sun.  “Everyone else, into the safe rooms.”
    Blue was a gamble, but as with all things Focus, the politics of the fight was important.  The attackers had to shoot first.
     
    “You will surrender, now,” Focus Julius said.  Tonya ignored Julius’s charisma easily.
    Despite how off Julius’s Transforms felt, and their numbers, Tonya was starting to think her household had a chance.  Julius didn’t know a thing about combat tactics.  She and about twenty of her people filled the entryway of Tonya’s row house, six of them ringed tightly around the short Focus.  Tonya and her people were set up on the doors out of the entryway, half of her shooters kneeling and the rest standing behind them.  Only nine shooters, including Tonya.
    “Isn’t going to happen,” Tonya said.  “Coming here was foolish, bitch.  Lay down your weapons, now.”  Her charisma should be strong enough to affect Julius’s soldiers.  What