Irvine reached out past the wall he was using as cover to yank Selphie in next to him. She staggered past him and fell to her knees, one hand pressed to the growing red stain on her left side. "Where's Zell?" he asked, letting go of her arm to reload Exeter.

"Right—behind me," Selphie said, and groaned. "I'm all out of Cure!"

Irvine reached inside himself, looking for the rock-solid patience of the Brothers, and they stirred within his mind. Blue and white magic shaped around his fingertips in a dazzling rush. He put his hand over Selphie's and ifelt/i the magic sink into her skin, accelerating the healing rate. It was a deep wound, and even Cura didn't suffice for this. He cast again, although he was nearly out of Curas, and sighed in relief when the magic knit the skin back into a seamless whole. The area would be weak for a few days—magic was no substitute for proper rest and the healing abilities that came standard on the human body—but she was no longer in danger of bleeding to death.

"Thanks," Selphie said, and crawled forward to sit with her back against the wall.

Zell dove past Irvine a split second before an explosion shook the wall and rattled Irvine's eardrums. He had a long gash opening up the side of his left leg, but he waved off Irvine's offer of Cura and ripped open a vial of Hi-Potion instead. He poured the faintly luminous blue liquid directly onto the wound, and hissed. Irvine could sympathize; potion healing itched like seven hells and felt like something was crawling around on the wound, but it was inexpensive, fast, and a more sturdy healing than magic.

"I took down four more of them," Zell said, dabbing drops of another Hi-Potion onto his other wounds, "but they just keep coming."

"Quisty's not gonna be happy." Irvine tossed his cowboy hat down so its light colour wouldn't give him away, and shifted very carefully until he could just see past the wall that provided their cover. Three of Timber's most extreme resistance groups had banded together to throw the Galbadians out of their town, and the fighting had gotten intense. Normally, Garden wouldn't have bothered, but Rinoa had been visiting when the violence erupted. Squall had already sent their squad out when General Caraway contacted him and offered triple their normal fee. Squall hadn't turned the General's money down. SeeD could always use more funding.

Even with his limited field of vision, he could see the resistance members gathering. He wished, futilely, that he'd asked Quisty to let him junction Eden before this mission; Siren was a great GF against mages, but nothing beat Eden for raw, large-scale destruction.

"How's she doing?" he heard Zell ask, and he knew without looking that Zell was eyeing the pile of blue fabric that was Rinoa.

"Still unconscious," Irvine answered, "and I'm almost out of Cura."

"I've got two Phoenix Downs left," Zell said, but he sounded doubtful.

"At this point, I'd almost rather carry the dead weight and have Dr. Kadowaki look at her when we get back. We don't have time, or the magic, to get her back up to full health, and I haven't seen anything around here that carries Cure."

"I'm not set up to Draw, anyway," Zell said with a sigh. "I thought this was going to be a stealth and combat mission."

Irvine heard the shriek of an incoming explosive, and jerked back behind the wall. Small bits of debris rained down on his head, and he wondered how much longer he was going to have before this shelter fell in on all their heads. "Well, you got the combat part right."

"Shit, Irvine, this isn't funny," Zell said. "Squall's gonna kill us if we come back without Rinoa."

Selphie, normally so cheerful, was slumped against the wall. She rubbed at a smear of dirt on her cheek. "He might not have to worry about that," she said. "This building won't stand much longer."

"Then we'll find another one," Irvine said firmly. "We're not giving up yet. We beat Ultimecia, we can sure as hell handle a bunch of trigger-happy yahoos."

Selphie managed a tired smile. "That's my cowboy," she said, and picked up Irvine's hat to plunk it back on his head.

"SeeD!" The word was shouted through the amplification of a bullhorn, which distorted the sound somewhat, but at least it cut through the noise of ongoing battle all around them. "Give up the Sorceress, and we will let you leave safely!"

"Tch," Zell said under his breath, rolling his eyes. "Not on your life, pal."

"Selphie, find us another way out of here," Irvine said. "Zell, you go over there to the left. If they rush us, we want to be able to trap them."

Zell waited for the next pounding explosion, and then scuttled through the cloud of dust to take up a position opposite Irvine. Irvine checked to be sure he'd loaded the AP ammo and set Exeter to his shoulder. She was no sniper rifle, but that didn't mean she was useless in this situation. He sighted carefully on the man with the bullhorn. The empty lot between their position and the gathering resistance looked like something out of an apocalypse movie, a ragged desert of burnt vegetation and crushed brick that sent off clouds of dust and smoke. From here, if he were to try to fight in close quarters, that lot might as well be an impenetrable wasteland.

But for Exeter...

He could make the shot.

Irvine took a deep breath and lowered Exeter. It wasn't his first choice for escape, but he could do it if he had to.

"There aren't any back doors," Selphie said at his shoulder, "but one of the walls is weak between the supports. I've got a couple of grenades in my pack, enough to blow out the wall without bringing the roof down on our heads."

The idea of knocking down walls with explosives while they were still inside sounded a little dubious to Irvine, but he trusted Selphie to know what she was doing. "Set it up," he said. "Zell, get Rinoa."

"What about you?" Zell asked, dashing back over to Rinoa in a blur of red and blue.

Irvine lifted Exeter to his shoulder and sighted. "I'm gonna take out their leader, Selphie's gonna blow that wall, and then we're all gonna run like hell."

"Yes, sir!" Zell and Selphie answered.

A few moments later, Selphie stepped up behind him. "Zell, get over here, you want to be out of the blast. And cover your eyes," she instructed.

Irvine put his finger on the trigger. "How long, Selphie?"

"Ten seconds," she answered.

Slow breathing, deep and steady. He kept his eyes fixed on the target, his finger on the trigger, and counted. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two.

Exeter barked.

The man with the bullhorn fell, almost in slow-motion, even as Selphie's jury-rigged explosives blew the back off the building. "Go!" he shouted, and they dashed out of the building and sprinted for freedom, Selphie tossing a couple of grenades behind her for good measure.

Maybe they'd make it out of this mess after all.