“Okay. Good luck, Snowman." It was a little weird calling him that, but given that’s the persona he was taking on, it felt right.
The radio clicked in my ear, and I reached over, taking Sophie's other hand. She squeezed hard, her body contracting again, her grunt of effort sounding eerily similar to how she sounded when she worked out in the gym. "I thought there was supposed to be more screaming and wailing?"
Sophie chuffed through her gritted teeth and shook her head. "I think that comes later. Besides, never underestimate the ability of television and movies to over-dramatize something to do with women's health. At least that’s what I’m hoping.”
I laughed. When the contraction passed, I got up and ran to the kitchen, getting her a bottle of water. "Here, you look like you could use a sip or two. Sorry I couldn't grab the Evian, we're going to have to slum it with the Poland Springs."
"Thanks," Sophie said in between small huffs, smiling as I returned her attempt at humor. "This is harder than I thought it would be, but I think I'm doing pretty good so far. A lot better than some of the ones I've seen."
"How many have you assisted with?" I asked. Before Sophie could answer, the traffic camera feed we had exploded in a hail of gunfire as Mark made his move. In two tight bursts he took out the gunners outside Pressman Contractors and shattered the glass-front. He then dashed to the side, diving and taking cover behind a dumpster before unleashing another burst.
“I’ve watched it done three times, once in person," Sophie said before her voice raised as a wave of pain hit. It felt like she was nearly crushing my hand she was squeezing so hard, and I could see the cords of her neck and forearms standing out against her skin.
I had to turn my attention away from the video screen, focusing instead on Sophie and her immediate situation. I couldn't help Mark, but I could help her. "That's it babe, come on. Come on, you can do it. Just bear down, push as it comes. I'm here for you."
By the time Sophie's contraction passed, Mark had moved again, and I couldn't find him on the screen. It took me a moment to see him across the street, this time behind one of the Pressman trucks, firing in short little spurts. "Why isn't he firing more?"
Sophie huffed and gasped from the efforts of her labor. "He... automatic rifles are impossible to control with just your hands in long bursts," she said. I unscrewed the top of the bottle again and gave her a sip. She used the water to calm herself, getting her breathing under control. "You can't aim properly. That's why the big guns all have bipods and mounts. So he shoots in small little bursts that he can aim."
"Some time, you're going to have to teach me about all this crap," I replied. Mark dashed forward again, firing as he ran, and disappeared from the screen as he ran into the building. We both held our breath as another burst of gunfire flashed against the light, and then there was silence.
"Mark?" I whispered into my microphone, only to be greeted with silence. I tried again, before remembering that Mark had said he was going radio silent. While my unit could stay on, he had probably muted his end totally to allow him to focus on the task at hand.
"I'm sure he's okay," Sophie said. "Both of them."
Another contraction started, and I turned my head away from the screen as Sophie's eyes slitted and she pushed as hard as she could. The contractions were coming closer and closer, worrying me. I thought this was supposed to take hours, she'd been in labor less than thirty minutes.
"Tabby?"
"I'm here Mark," I said, smiling at Sophie. "What's going on there?”
"I've got him. Dislocated shoulder, but other than that okay," Mark said. I grinned and gave Sophie a thumbs up.
"Good. Now get your ass back here, on the double mister, or else you're going to miss it."
"Tabby?" Mark said, clearly confused.
"Your wife is in labor, and I think she's a few minutes from giving birth to your daughter."
"Wha....what?!?!?"
* * *
As it was, I was the one to deliver Andrea Tabitha Bylur into the world. According to the clock on the wall, it was eleven thirty seven at night, December twenty first. A winter solstice baby. Sophie had told me her name as soon as she was out, my vision doubling momentarily as I cried in happiness. The honor of being named not just her godmother but to even have her share my name with me? Perfect.