On the scent
Mission: Chapter 9: Steam City
Bridget had made Remy pay. He had paid some merchant for the gun Bridget had wanted Melisande to make, and now Bridget was carrying it around. In Kanesville. This tiny woman with this big gun, accompanied by a nervous-looking man with a handlebar mustache.
"Dearest, I am not exactly sure what the law says about carrying a gun that big in town." He looked around for obvious thugs or militia men.
Bridget made a psshht sound and kept walking towards her destination. She had not told Remy where she was going, because he would have stopped her. She still felt livid that the crew had laughed her out of the dormitory, that Leftheris had not taken her seriously and that Melisande had vanished when she returned with the money for the custom gun. But her face felt clean and fresh. At least tha redeemed the war dog combat engineer.
"Remy, it is quite obvious this is not a real gun," she said loudly, to make sure people could overhear. "I am on my way to a fancy dress party! And this is a toy gun!" Her previous stories had included 'I am on my way to a Icari hunting party' and 'I am on my way to my uncle, with his gun'. She still had not found something that felt right.
They stopped in front of the militia head quarters, where Bridget trotted up the first 2 steps before Remington pulled her back. "No," he said firmly. "This nonsense has gone far enough."
Bridget's mouth fell open. "You don't get a say in it!" she said as she tried to pull free. But Remington could easily keep his wife from moving, while he did try not to hurt her.
"No, Bridget, this has gone far enough! What do you expect will happen when you go in there, with a gun, no less?"
"You were the one who said I needed protection! You made me get a gun! You said I was in danger on the street! You never supported me in getting a proper escort from the gunmen!" She pushed the gun into her husband's hands. "You take it, then. Just wait until I tell Father!"
As she thrust the gun into his hands, Remington had to let go of his wife. Bridget tore herself away and ran into the militia building. She did not get far, because two guards stopped her.
"Hello-hello-hello, and where are we going?" The tallest asked.
"I am here to see... to see the chief!" Chief was always a good word, Bridget thought, if you wanted to talk to someone high up enough to still be intimidated by rich people. And rich she was.
The guards snorted with laughter. "The chief is busy, madam," the first guard said. "You will have to make an appointment."
"But I have important news! Or, questions!" she said as she was pushed backwards.
"Listen, madam," the guard said, "if there is something important to tell the chief, you can tell us, and we will decide if..."
"It's about the escaped prisoner!" Bridget blurted out. "He was innocent!" The guards stopped at that.
"Well, well, well," the shorter one said. "And how do you know that?"
"Because ... because I know who did do it. Those murders, I know what happened, who did it," Bridget fumbled her sentence.
The guards looked at each other and grabbed Bridget's arms, as they escorted her through the long hallways of the building until they arrived at a door.
"In you go, madam," the guard said and they positioned themselves at the sides of the door. Bridget waited for one of the men to open the door for her and said 'thank you' in a very clearly pronounced way.
She went inside and as the door closed behind her, she looked at the face of the chief.