Meanwhile, Moon had managed to pull off the greatest bluff in the history of the post-apocalyptic world. She had convinced her companions_ and most importantly, Tigan_ that she had successfully charmed the Fire King into an alliance with Peter Strauss.
Of course, she dragged it out for hours because Peter would be suspicious if she returned with good news so quickly. So, when she came out of the tent, she had a burn mark on her arm, her clothes are dusty and her hair messed up. She looked like she had been through some rough times.
Which she had: technically. In Garrison's bed!
Tigan was practically beaming. He was so pleased that he had sent a messenger back to Crosstown with a message that read like a victory lap. When Peter Strauss received the note, the crushing anxiety that usually sat on his chest like a lead weight finally lifted.
He made preparations to welcome them and began pacing the command room of his bunker, his boots clicking rhythmically on the polished concrete.
