Pete picked up on the second ring once he had a look at his caller ID. He was in his new home in the Excalibur office and center of operations in one of the sub-levels of the mansion that did not admit random visitors. Wisdom was unable to get a word in edgewise throughout the whole conversation or, rather, semi-monologue. After sputtering a few attempts at calming Kira down, he finally sighed when the line went dead. "Bugger," he muttered to himself, already in motion.
He had been expecting and dreading this type of call from Kira, and their long conversations weighed heavily on his mind even as he got up and stalked over to the small armory he had already accumulated down there. He placed his hand on the panel, a multi-tiered security system that measured his palm's temperature to determine this was living tissue, read and recognized his fingerprints, and received a code from his drumming fingers before lifting the panel that revealed the guns. He grabbed the necessaries, including his trusty shotgun, and started on his way.
"Right, luv," he told the busy Network. "Duty calls and all that." If nothing else, he could always count on Sarah to eye him sideways without really stopping whatever she was doing while remaining generally unfazed even as he left the office loaded for bear like something out of an old Mad Max movie. Pete was too preoccupied to care either way, but in hindsight he'd appreciate the lack of theatrics. There was enough drama coming at him.
He wasn't going to lie to himself. He had a slight queasy feeling in his belly at the thought of facing those animated dead things again. He could still recall the smell, and it was nearly enough to make his gorge rise. Bloody mayhem and being pelted with bits of carnage in the heat of battle? That was fine and dandy with him. Zombies were a completely different animal. He really didn't want any of those bits on him, ever.