If we were going to pull this job off, we were going to need help; namely, two specific kinds of help: Tech support and weapons support. I’d mentioned that I had weapons stashed at my backup pad, but Acrylic reminded me of our earlier encounter and my woefully inadequate stock.

Acrylic waved his hand over one of the bricks where Rudy’s eyes were. “Rudy!” he intoned in a French accent, summoning him. “Nous avons besoin de mes jouets. Ouvrez au sous-sol, s’il vous plaĆ®t.”

“Comme vous voulez,” the wall-being replied. The brick wall opened on its downward hinge, forming a ramp as it had last time, but now it stopped short, instead opening to a ledge with a metal ladder, facing a narrow gap to the beginning of the staircase down to the main bunker.

“That’s new,” I remarked. “What’s down there?”

Acrylic flashed a smile. “My toys,” he answered. “I construct them myself, to various degrees. I kitbash.” He started down the ladder. “Let us equip ourselves. This sortie will necessitate atypical accoutrement.”

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