Red America

Part Nine: Steel Rain

Kitty clicked her pistol's safety catch on and off with her thumb as she scanned the street in front of her, surrounded by greasy pieces of alley trash and squeaking rats that insisted on investigating her toes at regular intervals, no matter how many times she kicked at them to shoo them away. She did briefly consider skewering one and letting the rest of them pick at its body, but she decided against it, for the simple reason that the noise it would cause was something she could do without. So she simply crouched down behind a garbage can and let them skitter around her feet in a furry carpet of filth. Across the street from her, she could see Hank and Cecilia doing pretty much the same thing in their hiding place, although she could also see that the two of them were managing much more easily with their situation than she was, simply letting the rats flow around them without bothering to even look down.

Benefits of practice, I guess, she thought with a slight touch of envy. Glancing to her right she saw Madrox slipping some bullets into his new Russian sidearm, and smiled gently. "You like that, don't you?" she whispered, quietly amused. "Is it because it's shiny? I have some tin foil in my pocket if you'd like that too."

"Keep trying, Kitty. You'll be funny one day," Madrox fired back at her, his voice kept equally as low as hers as he kept one eye on her and one eye on the street. Just as he was about to say something else, a truck began to rumble down the shattered road, its heavy cargo clattering as the truck crushed scattered rubble underneath its heavy wheels. "Time to earn your stripes, kid," Madrox told her, nodding towards the approaching vehicle. "Think happy thoughts."

"Easy for you to say," Kitty muttered as she gathered strength in her legs, pushed herself to her feet and began to run towards the oncoming truck, its headlights flaring searing yellow as it thundered along the street. As she neared it, Kitty could smell the tang of petrol and motor oil, could hear the squeal of tyres against tarmac, and could see the driver of the truck keeping his attention completely focused on the road in front of him. Good, Kitty decided. Maybe this will work after all…

Jumping forwards as fast as she could, she held her breath and phased through the truck's front grille before the driver could swerve away, and emerged through the dashboard into the truck's cab. The driver's stunned expression filled her with satisfaction and relief – if she could see the man's face, it meant she hadn't been splattered across the front of the truck – and she used that momentary respite to grab the soldier's tunic by the lapels as she settled herself into the seat next to him, and then to shove him bodily through the door. The soldier shrieked noisily as he passed through the thick, solid steel and slammed into the road outside the truck's cab, crumpling on impact like a concertina. Kitty heard the stomach-churning sound of several of the soldier's bones shattering noisily, and tried her best to ignore them as she pushed her foot down hard on the truck's brake and grabbed its wheel in order to stop it from veering off and toppling a couple of lampposts. The truck bucked and screamed as it tried its hardest not to do as she was telling it, but Kitty kept her foot placed firmly on the brake even though she could almost feel her heart climbing out of her throat. Eventually, though, the truck squealed to a halt, tyre marks painting the road's surface like smears of charcoal on a dark, fragmented canvas, and Kitty was able to step out of the cab and beckon her squad-mates over. She took a deep breath as she did so, feeling her heart slowing to a more normal pace, and then leaned against the truck's side as her companions made their way from their covered firing positions, trying her best to look as if she had just been out for a leisurely Sunday drive.

"What took you guys so long?" she said as Madrox reached her, concern clearly etched on his normally jovial face. "You should've been here – I just had the most fun. You should try it sometime."

"I think I'll pass," Madrox replied, as he gestured to the crumpled form of the Soviet soldier that lay in a heap a few hundred feet back from where the truck was currently standing, "especially if that's the way you treat bad passengers." As he turned back to look at Kitty, Hank walked over to the soldier's body and began examining his uniform, stripping the man's jacket and trousers off him before dragging the limp form into a side alley. When he had done that, he put one muscular hand into the left arm of the jacket and cursed when it did not go more than halfway down the sleeve, his thick fingers bunching up as they reached the elbow.

"Problem?" Dani asked, redundantly.

Hank nodded. "It seems that way, yes. I can't fit into this thing – it'll split if I try to get my hands into it any further. I think somebody else is going to have to give this a try." He handed the slightly torn jacket to Madrox and continued "You look like the most likely candidate, Jamie."

"Me?" Madrox replied, his eyes bulging in surprise. "Why me?"

"It looks like it's more your size," Hank told him, flatly. "Look, don't worry about this, all right? I know for a fact that there are plenty of Americans who've joined the Soviet armed forces, so you wouldn't exactly be alone in not being able to speak Russian. Just nod, smile, and call everybody 'comrade', and you'll be home free, I promise."

"Easy for you to say, man," Madrox muttered as he took the jacket and trousers and began stripping off his fatigues so he could get the uniform on. "You're not the one who's going to get a bullet in the face if things go wrong."

"You know, I sincerely doubt that," Hank snapped sourly. "If things go wrong, we'll all be in very big trouble, so you won't exactly have to worry about dying alone."

"Comforting thought," Cecilia said as she moved towards the back of the truck and opened its tailgate, and then took a cursory look inside, assessing the truck's cargo with a single glance. "Better get moving, guys – this shipment of blankets isn't going to move itself, after all."

"Blankets?" Sam exclaimed, sounding a little surprised. "Didn't think the Ivans were ever that kind."

"Sometimes they can surprise you," Kitty told him, shrugging. "Doesn't happen very often, though." Then she moved towards the open tailgate and climbed in beside Cecilia. "Come on. Better get this over and done with, I guess."

When everybody else had moved into the rear of the truck, Madrox buttoned up his stolen tunic, climbed up into the driver's cab and turned the truck's ignition key, causing the engine to roar throatily into life. Shifting the gear-stick into reverse, he pulled the truck around and then slammed his foot down onto the accelerator pedal. "Hold on, guys," he called, unsure if any of them could hear him over the sound of the engine. "Here we go."

Elisabeth let the wind whisper across her cheeks as she walked around the fortifications at the base of the Empire State Building. It had been too long since she had felt cool, fresh air on her skin, so she intended to enjoy it as much as possible, even with the odious Major Grey in tow. The KGB officer had asked for a brief tour of the defensive positions that encircled the chief Soviet stronghold in New York, so, of course, Elisabeth had had to indulge her, as much as she hadn't wanted to. Adjusting her fur hat and greatcoat so that they hugged her head and figure more closely, she marched towards a guard's station and nodded to the woman inside the hut as the soldier straightened to attention in the blink of an eye, her heel slamming down on the floor of her hut with a loud clatter of strictly-maintained rubber against polished wood. "At ease, Comrade-Lieutenant Petrovna," Elisabeth said briefly, and the woman relaxed, releasing the butt of the rifle hanging from her right shoulder and putting both of her hands behind her back, her light blonde hair reflecting the cyclopean beams of the floodlights that periodically swept the perimeter of the base. Elisabeth could sense that she was clearly still uncomfortable because of Major Grey's presence, but that was to be understood – KGB officers did not exactly go out of their way to present a family-friendly image, after all. Clearly, Major Grey had noticed the soldier's unease as well, since she took that opportunity to step forwards, her gloved hands behind her back, and took in every aspect of the woman's appearance with a single glance.

"Good evening, Comrade Petrovna," she began, her honeyed tones seeming to Elisabeth as if they were the hovering blade of a guillotine. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Petrovna replied, her voice not wavering despite the obvious, tangy fear that Elisabeth could feel radiating from her skull. "You are Major Jean Grey, of KGB intelligence."

"My reputation precedes me, I see," Major Grey said in a thoughtful tone, a hand touching her chin briefly. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"No, sir," Lieutenant Petrovna said. "Am I in trouble, sir?"

Major Grey smiled, like a snake mesmerising its prey. "No, Comrade Petrovna – if I had been here for you, we would not be having this conversation now; you would already be in a cattle truck on your way to Siberia."

Elisabeth felt a twist of anger boiling at the centre of her guts when she heard Major Grey speak those words, almost as if the KGB officer had spoken them to her. I don't appreciate you spreading fear among my troops, Major, she said psionically, making sure that the other woman could feel every ounce of her irritation and disdain. Do it again and I will have you sent back to Moscow in a suitcase, regardless of your KGB connections. That's a promise.

Major Grey simply smiled briefly as she felt Elisabeth's words splash against her frontal lobes, and altered her tack without missing a beat. "So tell me, Comrade… how are you finding it here in the United States? I hope you're enjoying your posting here - I used to live here in New York before I was transferred to the Kremlin, and I always enjoy coming back. It's a lovely city, don't you think?"

"I… have enjoyed working here, yes, sir," Lieutenant Petrovna said slowly, still obviously unsure of herself around not one, but two of her superior officers. The fact that neither of them were native speakers of her own language wouldn't exactly help her, either, Elisabeth realised. "It has been… interesting, to see a new country. I only wish we could just make all the Americans see that we are only trying to help them rise above the mess they have buried themselves into – we could avoid so much bloodshed that way."

"That's true," Major Grey agreed, "but if we have to fight to make our point, so be it. The Revolution needs brave men and women who are willing to die for what they believe in, after all. And I believe that if we believe in what we fight for, we will always win over our enemies, no matter how many of them there are. Do you believe that, Comrade Petrovna?"

"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Petrovna said, nodding. "I do."

"Good. I'm pleased to hear it. Carry on, Comrade Petrovna." Major Grey saluted crisply, and then turned on one heel to walk towards the fortified gates that provided the single access point for all of the traffic going in and out of the Empire State Building. Elisabeth followed her at a brisk pace, and was once again reminded of how proud she was of this defensive achievement. Razor wire was coiled like blood-hungry vines around the fencing and machine-gun emplacements that flanked the gates, with concrete blocks positioned strategically just inside the fencing to prevent any particularly overzealous rebels from driving cars or trucks packed with explosives straight into anywhere delicate. In addition, claymore mines were positioned pointing towards the street, so that any attacking troops that managed to get through the blizzard of lead from the Soviet machine guns would be shredded by countless unforgiving steel ball bearings. In short, anybody attacking this base from the front would have to be either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid to think they could have a hope in hell of succeeding. Before she reached them, however, she increased her pace so that she was alongside Major Grey, their boots clicking on the concrete almost in unison as she did so.

"Tell me, Major," she asked, "do you really believe any of what you just said?"

Major Grey turned to Elisabeth and jabbed a finger at her accusingly, her green eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. "Why? Don't you believe that, Colonel?"

Elisabeth smirked. "I believe that pep-talks aren't the only thing we need to maintain control of this country, Major. That's what I believe. SAFN may fill the proletariat's head with endless sugar-coated messages of how wonderful we are, but you don't exactly see them rushing to embrace us with open arms, do you?"

"The majority of them have accepted us. The rest just need a little more persuasion," Major Grey retorted angrily, before she abruptly changed the subject by pointing at the fortified entrance to the compound. "How often are the guards changed here?"

"Once every hour," Elisabeth replied, glad for once not to get into an argument with her insufferable colleague. "We rotate the shifts for guard duty frequently, so any one soldier is not assigned here more than once a month."

"Good," Major Grey said, nodding in approval as she rocked back and forth on her heels for a second or two. "This is very impressive, Colonel. Are there any other entrance points to the base?"

Elisabeth shook her head. "No. There is a sewer manhole inside the fences, but it's been welded closed, and booby-trapped with several pounds of plastic explosive. There's no chance of anything getting through it."

Major Grey smiled with only a faint trace of amusement flickering in her eyes. "I wouldn't be so certain of that, Colonel. You might just end up being surprised –" Her head suddenly turned towards one of the trucks arriving at the front gate, and her pupils flared wide with predatory interest. She began marching towards the truck as it was stopped by one of the guards manning the gate, her gloved fists clenching tightly and starting to glow with faint traces of fire-coloured energy. Elisabeth blinked in vague surprise as she watched the other woman suddenly start stalking purposefully towards the truck's cab, and then quickly closed the gap between herself and the truck. Whatever Major Grey had noticed, she decided, she needed to see it for herself as well, just to be on the safe side. When she got to the driver's cab, she saw a young man in a slightly dirty uniform sitting nervously in his seat as Major Grey looked over his truck. Instantly, she pitied him.

"What's your cargo?" Major Grey asked him in a clipped tone, her green eyes skewering him with their steely gaze.

"Prisoners, sir," the young man said, a quaver in his voice giving away his true emotions. "Rebel leaders that need to be interrogated."

"I see," Major Grey said thoughtfully, nodding as she tapped her perfect chin with one gloved finger. "Carry on, mister…?"

"Foster," the young man replied. "Harry Foster."

Elisabeth could feel that he was concealing something, but the man's peculiar psychic presence (which seemed… fragmented, somehow, and didn't allow her any solid purchase in his thoughts at all) prevented her from ascertaining exactly what that was. No matter. She'd doubtlessly find out a lot more when she interrogated the prisoners he was bringing in. She turned to watch the truck rumble towards the depot built into the base of the tower in front of her, when Major Grey simply raised a finger towards the truck and its passengers.

"Kill them all," she hissed.

Kitty heard the rattling crack of AK-47 fire starting up behind the truck, bullets beginning to clatter off the truck's raised tailgate, and shouted "Everybody cross your fingers!" as she touched the truck's camouflage-painted surface and willed herself into intangibility. She knew that whatever touched her when she was phased became phased with her, but she wasn't sure if she could affect people indirectly (and since Jamie was in the truck's cab, that was the only way this was going to work). When she saw that nobody flew out of the truck and broke their neck on the tarmac beneath the truck's wheels, she counted her action as a minor success. She felt the truck's speed increase as the friction between its tyres and the ground lessened drastically, the vehicle careening towards the covered truck depot as dozens of Russian soldiers surged after it, their rifles vomiting almost endless streams of bullets towards its fast disappearing tail lights.

As the truck neared the entrance to the depot, Kitty risked phasing her head through its side, just to get a better idea of what was going on. The depot was likewise crawling with Russian troops, but she thought she knew a way of escaping them, at least temporarily. Retreating back into cover and then reaching through the back wall of the truck's cab, Kitty appeared through Madrox's chest and, before he could find the presence of mind to have a heart attack, said "The kids are getting restless. I think you might need to talk to them." And with that, she pulled her head back through his body and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him through the wall of the cab and into the area where the rest of the ragtag rebels were crouching. As the truck lurched violently without anybody to steer it, Kitty cried "Hold your breath, guys – and grab onto me!" As every person in the truck grasped a part of her arms, Kitty concentrated hard and let them all phase out of the truck as it ploughed straight into a rank of half-tracks, a huge explosion ripping through the depot as cans of petrol ignited and sent rivers of flame snaking through the entire area.

Madrox blinked, and whistled. "Man, Kit, you sure do know how to make an entrance."

"We're not out of the woods yet," Hank said as he noticed a small squad of Russian troops moving through the flames. "We need to get out of here, and quickly. Our only chance is if we keep moving." Then he turned to Kitty and said "Get us below ground, Kitty, and quickly."

"Okay," Kitty said, shrugging. "Hold on, guys…"