Chapter Twenty Two: In which Karina's past is brought into shocking, horrifying light; in which Camille and Bones finally reappear and Jim is the responsible parent for once; and in which a search party is sent out.
Lots of Camille and Bones in this one to make up for your being deprived of them for a week. Once again, my sincerest apologies, but it had to happen! Over to Camille for a shout-out...
Camille: HUGE shout-out to Howling2themoon for continuing to review faithfully! browneyedgirl29 appreciates you immensely!
Seriously, though... I like to think of myself as a confident person, but I'm not COMPLETELY without insecurities. Am I boring you guys? That being said, I realize it's a busy time of year, but I really do appreciate reviews.
Karina: If nothing else, after the week I've had, PLEASE do ME a favor and review.
Be nice, Kari. I hope this chapter blows your minds, makes you angry...and maybe makes you laugh a little. Also, if my references to Communism offend anyone, I apologize profusely. That was not my intent.
I only own my OCs!
This was seriously the most stereotypical position she had ever been in, and, considering her luck, that was saying something. Tied to a chair with a bright light blazing down on her. By now, Karina had figured out where she was. She'd been here before. It was the tunnels, of course. She groaned inwardly, knowing the likelihood that she'd find her way out of here once she escaped was very slim.
Vladimir had been gone for about twenty minutes at this point. Andrei, meanwhile, remained with her, just staring. He was honestly kind of creeping her out. The more she looked at him, the less he looked like Pavel to her and the more he just took on his own creepy persona. She marveled at how this guy had raised her friend, yet somehow Pavel had managed to turn out okay.
Finally unable to stand the silence, she asked, "So, where did the other one go?" She knew Andrei didn't know she knew his name, or Vladimir's, so she elected to not raise any suspicion there.
Andrei sat up from where he'd been leaning on his elbows, staring at her some more. "He's gone to get my son. With whom, I understand, you are acquainted somehow."
He frowned. "I can't help but feel that you look familiar somehow. Who are you, out of an immense amount of curiosity? And how exactly do you know Pavel?"
Figuring there wasn't any harm in telling the man – after all, once she got out of here, it was only a matter of time before international authorities caught up to him – she glared and put on her most defiant tone. "My name is Karina Bartowski. Captain Pike hired me to teach your son Standard. Which, incidentally, I notice you speak quite fluently." He'd only directly addressed her in English, though she'd started their conversation in Russian.
"So, tell me, Andrei, how does that work? What, you didn't think it was important he learn English and have that advantage in life? Because now I'm curious."
Andrei had grown deathly quiet, his face an unreadable mask. "You have spirit, girl, I'll give you that," he told her. A slow, sinister smile began to creep over his face. "Not unlike your parents, in fact. Your father especially."
Karina took a few moments to register what he said, then felt the blood drain out of her face. "What are you saying?" she asked. Then suddenly everything was clear to her. Russian arms dealers. Starfleet. Knowledge of the tunnels.
Staring at the man who had likely killed her parents, she couldn't feel anger. Just horror, horror in abundance.
Laughing under his breath, Andrei rose and began to walk about the room, situated off one of the main tunnels.
"Ironic, isn't it, that you will die at the same hands that took their lives?" he asked. "In Vladimir's defense, he was the one who smuggled you to safety. Honestly, I only cared about my revenge on your father. I could let your survival slip past me." Andrei's face slightly softened. "I may not be a good father. But I still am a father. Killing a child in such a manner was distasteful to me. So when he grabbed you and ran, I did not question it. Even let him back into our business contract."
His comment about being a father mystified her. Did he actually care that much about his son, in spite of all Pavel had told her? Then she realized: He was probably referring to his daughter. Pteechka probably would have been about two at the time.
Karina almost laughed at the fact that she could still process this while facing her parents' killer…the father of one of her best friends. But instead of laughter, it was bile that rose to her throat. The anger was starting to kick in.
"What did my father do to you?" she asked, though she already knew what the answer would be. Honestly, she was just stalling for time at this point. "What was so important about that invasion that it required the man who halted it to die?"
"Starfleet had just developed a new, more advanced phaser rifle," Andrei informed her, casually, as though he were discussing the weather. "At that point in time, it would have earned me a fortune. Nausicaans, Orions, they'd all pay hundreds of thousands of credits for such a purchase, maybe even millions. But one insignificant little CIA agent decided to get in my way. Of course, this development is the phaser rifle we commonly see today, but it's less advanced now. Worth less. You see my problem, and why revenge on your father was… well, maybe not necessary, but immensely satisfying.
"I should never have spared you," he growled, the hardness returning. "You have complicated my own family life more than you will ever realize."
"Why?" she growled. "Because I apparently care about your son more than you ever have? You were right when you said you were a lousy father, Andrei. He's told me everything."
Andrei didn't appear angry, which irritated her. Maybe she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of using his name. No, she'd just call him "comrade" now. That would work well.
"Has he, then?" Andrei asked. "He must have felt relatively safe here. I don't think he's ever told anyone much about me and our…interaction as father and son, I guess. Not even Dimitri. Vladimir's son, by the way," he added, as if she didn't know.
"Making him feel safe was kind of my goal," she muttered. And how dismally she'd failed.
At that moment, the door that led out into the tunnels swung open. Vladimir prodded Pavel inside. If he'd looked miserable before, that was nothing compared to how his face changed when his eyes fell on her.
"Karina," he muttered, as though he couldn't believe this was happening. She felt him there.
Andrei gestured to the chair he'd occupied moments before. "Sit down, son," he said. Pavel looked up at him, face defiant. "Now."
Vladimir said, "I'd listen to him, Pavel. Especially keeping your friend in mind." He gestured toward Karina, and Pavel's defiant charade dropped. Defeat replacing it, he took the seat.
Andrei turned to Vladimir and started filling him in on what he'd uncovered. Not paying attention, Pavel leaned forward, his head in his hands.
"I never wanted you to get mixed up in this," he said, the only person in the room that was still speaking Russian. "I should have told you everything long before, given you the chance to get out while you could."
Karina frowned, then something dawned on her. "That's why you were always so closed off. Why you always wanted to know about me, but never told me anything about you. You were afraid to let me in because you didn't want me to get hurt, right?"
He nodded. "That was part of it. I'm so sorry, Karina. I should have just let you keep things professional at the beginning."
Karina scoffed. "Heck no, you shouldn't have! I don't particularly care what happens in this case, this friendship thing we have going on was pretty much worth it. In my book, anyway."
He stared at her. "You do know you're probably going to die, right?"
"Yep. I have no illusions."
"Still worth it?"
"Totally."
He stared at her for a few moments. "Not that that didn't have the desired effect you wanted, but you have a strange sense of priorities, Karina. Have I ever told you that?"
"You wouldn't be the first," she said. "And I would tell you what I'm thinking, but apparently your father speaks both English and Russian, so he'd overhear no matter which language I used."
I have no intent of dying today. Not if I can help it.
"How hard is it to answer your damned communicator?" Jim practically screamed at his own, after trying Camille's number for the fiftieth time. Hearing a low whistle, he looked up to see Juliet passing by, a look on her face that clearly said, "Anger issues much?"
"What?" he exclaimed. "Like you don't ever scream at inanimate objects!"
She shrugged and walked away. "Got me there."
It occurred to Jim that he could just ask Juliet for help, but by the time he thought of it, she was already around the corner. Dashing after her, he ran straight into the objects of his search.
"Bones! Cam! Thank God," Jim cried, grabbing the former of the two by the shoulders and glancing frantically back and forth from him to Camille. "Listen, Kari's missing. So's the Russian kid. Now, I'm not sure, but I think they've been kidnapped by – wait," Jim's voice trailed off as he noticed Bones' sheepish face. "Where the HELL have you two been?"
They were both silent. Jim couldn't remember when he'd ever seen Bones more uncomfortable, and Cam had a determined set to her jaw, the fire in her eyes daring him to demand an answer.
Knowing he'd be likelier to get an answer out of her in the long run but quite frankly finding Bones less intimidating at the moment, he turned back to the latter.
"Bones?"
Bones cleared his throat a few times.
"The pair of you have been missing ever since the swing dancing stopped – seven hours ago! Where. Have. You. Been?"
Bones grew increasingly more uncomfortable, then finally, "We may or may not have… gone to another bar."
"And?"
As though hoping she might respond, Bones turned to Camille. She glared at him, killing that pipe dream almost as quickly as it was conceived.
"We…possibly got married."
"WHAT?" Jim exploded.
"We didn't actually get married," Cam interjected. "We were about to sign the paper and then sort of…sobered up really fast."
"Realized how stupid we were being," Bones added. When Jim didn't respond, he continued, "We were drunk, Jim!"
"I have been dealing with what could well be an international crisis," Jim fumed, "and YOU TWO WERE GETTING MARRIED?"
"Not officially," Cam corrected him.
"Oh, shut up, Mrs. McCoy!"
She shot daggers at him with her eyes, and Jim officially decided he would never address her as such again.
Until it truly applied, anyway.
"Fill us in on the whole 'international crisis' thing, Jim," Camille demanded. And then tell us where the heck you think Kari is, or what they've done with her!"
Jim suddenly switched from fearing for himself to fearing for those who had Karina captive. Right now, Camille looked as though she were about to pulverize something, as soon as she found something worth her time, energy, and rage.
Then again, it didn't take much to be worthy of Cam's rage. He was still reasonably concerned for himself and Bones.
"Walk with me," he told them, headed back for the library. "I'll fill you in on the way. But once we've saved Kari and everything's balanced out a bit, I do want to hear about that little marriage ceremony I was not invited to!"
"Not a chance," the other two intoned simultaneously.
"Oh come on! I was at least supposed to be the best man!"
Camille frowned as she scanned the library floor. Jim's theory that they were using the tunnels was a good one, she had to admit. It made sense that someone who had infiltrated Starfleet before would have knowledge of the best-kept secret – which, while being the Academy's biggest asset, also happened to be its weakest point when in the hands of their enemies.
It wasn't the enemies that had her worried, either. Once they found Kari – and they would find her – those Russian punks didn't stand a chance. Camille would kill them, bury them, dig them up and clone them, and then kill all their clones. Nobody messed with her Kari. Nobody. All of this, plus what Jim would likely do to them, and the future was looking very bleak for the idiots that had dared to mess with someone they loved.
Bones, of course, would do none of the killing, but would merely stand by and be quite convenient when they needed to be pronounced dead.
Camille couldn't even bring herself to worry about Kari. The possibility of her friend being anything more than beaten around a little caused a nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was impossible for her to contemplate. Just the thought brought tears to her already bloodshot eyes, and Cam swiped them away. Now was not the time to cry. She would make them cry. Like little babushkas.
Although she was pretty sure that might mean grandmothers, not babies, it still worked in this situation. She wasn't big on proper Russian vocabulary.
So she forced herself to focus on something else. Like the fact that Bones had referred to their little marriage venture as "stupid." Well, of course it was stupid! They had been drunk. But did he consider the whole idea of them getting married in general stupid? The idea of "them", stupid? Had she been misreading him for the past year?
She shook her head to clear it. Wrong thing to focus on. They were trying to find an entrance to the blasted tunnels, and she had no idea where they could be. The only entrance she knew of was across the Academy, and they were a bit pressed for time.
Mentally cursing her friend's ability to get herself into trouble, Camille scanned the archives. Honestly, Karina called her accident prone! She may break bones on a regular basis, but Kari was the one who got herself kidnapped just as frequently. Romulans, Russians, it made no difference, apparently. Either one of them was a decent option for captor status.
Her peripherals fell on a glint of something, and she practically knocked over a shelf of books – one of the last left in the library, in fact – trying to inspect it. Yes, a glint of gold in the carpet. Bending down, she felt for a hold on it and pulled upward. Finding it to give way a little but also feeling the ground beneath her start to move, she realized she was standing on the trapdoor and moved away, opening it.
Checking to make sure the librarian was far across the room, she hissed, "Bones! Jim! Get over here!"
The pair of them hurried over. She tensed a little at Bones' presence, remembering how very close she'd gotten to becoming Mrs. Leonard McCoy, and made a mental note to set herself a drink limit. She didn't want to run the risk of ruining this any further than she may have already had. Honestly, she didn't remember whose idea it had been to take it to the chapel, but if she took a wild guess, she'd say it was hers. Bones wasn't impulsive to begin with, but when he was drunk, he was definitely more willing to go along with her heightened impulses, and, she noted with a small thrill of pleasure, a lot more complementary than normal.
"Let's get married," she'd probably slurred, and he'd probably responded, "Of course, beautiful. Whatever you want."
Good lord, what a pair of idiots they'd been.
"This look like a secret passage to you or what?" she asked.
Jim, in prime form, quipped, "Nah. It's just an entrance to a day spa, right, Bones?"
Bones grunted in response, and gestured for Jim to make the first move.
Only eyeing the dark space a little bit, Jim held onto the side of the door and dangled a bit before finally dropping down. He looked up at them before doing so, and saying: "Hey, if this drop is more than fifteen feet, don't have slow music at my funeral, okay?"
He disappeared from their view, and a minor grunt rose from the void. "It's only five feet or so," he called. "You get used to the dark eventually. Jump on down, Cam, I got you."
Camille saw too late Bones going to help her into the hole, but she'd already hopped in. Torn between regretting not letting him help her and thinking it was probably for the best, she felt a brief thrill through her as she fell through the air, only to have Jim catch her by the waist and steady her on the ground.
"Down you get, Bones!" she called up. The pair of them stepped out of the way, and her eyes adjusted just in time to see Bones hit the ground, surprisingly lithe on his feet for a guy with his build. Rising and dusting himself off, he blinked, obviously trying to get a view for where they were.
Cam reached a hand out and touched his arm, feeling that same fluttering sensation she always got. "Right here," she said softly.
He nodded and turned toward them. "So, where to now, comrades?"
Camille narrowed her eyes at him. "Nice choice of vocabulary for this situation."
"Just came to me. I think I might still be a little buzzed."
"Um…Hey, Stalin? Trotsky? I just realized a potential problem..." Jim said, bringing them both back to the present. "We didn't think to bring phasers with us. We're going to have to fight the uprising peasants unarmed."
Bones and Camille turned to each other, and she felt her heart sink. Well, this was going to be fun. Briefly she allowed herself to wonder who was Stalin and who was Trotsky before plunging on ahead, calling back, "It'll have to do. It's not like you two don't have skill in fist fights, and I know martial arts. Plus, something tells me it'll be a lot more satisfying to kick their butts rather than just stunning them. Now come on. The longer we spend gabbing, the more time they have with Kari."