Prepping a meet

How does one have a sit-down with a feral chief who does not want to be met? Ling tells the group that Rupert Ropehands, leader of Refugium’s militia, knows how to contact the HanHan – something that Rupert does not advertise. Maybe talking to him would be a first step, the next would be going to Bozeman with him so that he can facilitate a meeting.

The sunburnt ex-mercenary has already been briefed by Ling when Mal and the others show up at his post in front of Sue Snell’s motel. Wordlessly, he gathers his gear and jumps into the Conquistador. Again, Zed Memphis goes ahead. Mal quizzes Rupert during their drive to Bozeman. Yes, he has had dealings with the HanHan before. It’s always very paranoid, not a real meet, but rather an exchange of barter items with the trading partners keeping out of each others’ sight: “I leave the stuff I want to trade in the front of Bozeman’s old bank, then I leave for two hours. When I return, my stuff is gone and some of their stuff lies there for the taking.” Mal asks “So what are you trading?” “Well, mostly meats and leathers. Sometimes, they leave some tools from the old scrap yard. Much appreciated by Jaxxon and Heidi Platt.” “No, what are you trading?” “Stuff, mostly. Clothing, food, you know, nothing special.” Mal takes his eyes of the road and gives Rupert a quizzical look “At some times, I have also put some rounds of ammo down. Really not enough to bother anyone, and there would be no trade with them if I hadn’t sold something really valuable, and thus no back-channel. Just don’t tell Ling, okay? No reason to upset the old man.” In the back of the jeep, Spinoza, bound and gagged, flanked by Rod and Dan Hawking, stares ahead.

They arrive at noon. Bozeman seems to be HanHan territory: In the Long Ago, it was home to maybe ten thousand peaceful citizens. Now, long steel poles festooned with bones, necklaces of rusty nails and doll’s heads, rammed into the central crossing of the town, proclaim a different kind of inhabitants. Nonetheless, the ruins seem to be deserted. The group sets up a camp, with Dan taking position in an old church tower in the middle of town, tirelessly scanning the wastes surrounding Bozeman. Rupert is quite nervous, stomping around the camp, fiddling with his shotgun, glowering at the dark and overgrown alleys between the ruins.

After a few hours, Dan sees a HanHan leaving Bozeman, but only when the feral is already hundreds of paces away from the town. The man is running, his long strides carrying him towards the west, where the old junkyard lies. Dan curses and calls down from his perch, and the others grin. They have been discovered, and soon the HanHan will return in force to investigate. Time enough to prepare a meeting that calls for three parts diplomacy and one part warfare, with just a dash of ambush. Dan remains in his tower, his new fancy carbine at the ready and his old rifle at his feet, while Zed takes up a position about a hundred meters west from the edge of town, as an advance scout and surprise element. Or even as the one who will get away if it all turns to shit. He digs in. Mal finds himself a nice and cozy hidey hole in Bozeman’s bank, with a good view of the central crossing. He does not want to get too far away from proceedings, partly because he has some things to say, partly because he thinks that Rod might need some close support. At the crossing, amid the metal poles, Rod stands in the open, unarmed, hoping to do some talking, with Rupert being present, but silent - just a friendly, well-known face hovering in the background. Spinoza - the leverage - stays in the jeep, bound and gagged.