Chapter 24

The explosion was almost a kilometer away, but it still nearly knocked Alby off his chair, despite the force field guarding the headquarters building. The shockwave rattled the whole structure, from the foundation on up. Items fell from shelves and desktops and plaster dust sifted down from the ceiling.

"What the hell…!?"

His cry was echoed by a dozen other voices, but even as he said it, Alby was horribly certain that he knew exactly what the hell had happened. Anny!

Though he had no direct involvement with the mission, he'd kept himself informed and followed the progress—or lack thereof—as the day had passed. It was too much to hope that this explosion didn't have something to do with it. He leaped from his chair and rushed to the situation room. His path took him past a window and he screeched to a halt. Off to the southwest a huge, boiling cloud of smoke and debris was climbing skyward. "Oh, no…" he groaned.

Other people joined him at the window, pointing and shouting and after a moment he was jostled aside. He threw off his shock and continued to the situation room. It was bedlam, with dozens of men dashing here and there and all talking at the same time.

"…were they inside? Were they inside?"

"…get the rescue teams moving!"

"Do not let the perimeter break! I say again: keep the perimeter in place! This may be a diversion…"

"…do you have them on thermals?"

"How the hell could I? The place is a freaking fireball!"

There were large display monitors all around the room and nearly all were showing the same thing Alby had just seen out the window: Smoke, flames, debris, from different angles and different distances, but still a scene of disaster. He spotted his boss, Captain Hopkins, on a com and he grabbed him by his arm.

"Was Anny in there?" he shouted.

Hopkins looked furious at being interrupted, saw who it was, and then froze. Alby shook him. "Was she?"

His face fell and he looked away. "Yes."

Alby let go and stumbled backwards and collapsed into a chair.

"Anny. No."

The room seemed to narrow and stretch into a dark tunnel filled with roaring noises. Space stretched, but time compressed and people came and went and the images on the monitors flickered and changed. The flames were extinguished and the smoke dispersed and the rescue teams combed through the wreckage. And all the while he sat there, unable to move. No one said a word to him. There was no need.

Nothing could have survived that…

One whole wing of the school building had been obliterated. This bomb had been much more powerful than the one used on the church. Roof, walls, everything had been blasted to unidentifiable rubble. A significant crater had been gouged out of the earth. But the crews sifted through it anyway—just in case.

Anny's dead. Anny's dead.

The thought made no sense. It was impossible, wasn't it? How could she be dead?

"Alby? Alby?"

Hopkins was there now, leaning over him. The room oozed back to its normal proportions.

"Alby, are you all right?"

"No."

"I imagine not," said another voice. Fetherbay was there behind Hopkins. "I'm terribly sorry about… about your friend." Alby blinked. There was a raw fury in Fetherbay's eyes that he'd never seen before. "We'll find who was responsible for this and they will pay. I promise you that."

Alby blinked again. Revenge. His thoughts hadn't progressed that far, but yeah, that was a fine idea. Anger started to grow in him. Someone had to pay for this! They owed the whole regiment! So many people liked and admired Anny that…

Oh shit…

Another thought came crowding in and Alby's hot anger turned to ice. "Who…? Who else knows?" he stammered.

"Anyone within thirty kilometers knows what's happened. Or at least that something's happened. But the details? Only those with the need to know."

"There's someone who does need to know. Right now. Before he hears it by chance."

Fetherbay's anger receded, too. "Yes, yes, of course. I can send…"

"I'll do it," said Alby. He suddenly realized that his cheeks were wet and he angrily scrubbed the water away with his sleeve. "I have to do it."

"All right," said Fetherbay, nodding. "I'll get you a vehicle and a driver."

The Colonel gave orders and Hopkins escorted—hell, half carried—Alby downstairs. Hopkins was muttering the whole time: "I just don't understand this… why the hell would anyone do this? The insurgents? The EnBees? It doesn't make any sense for either group! All this just to kill two people? They have to know it's only going to make us madder. Vorpatril's got a big name and a lot of connections, but he's nobody in his own right. And Payne's just a lieutenant and… sorry, sorry…"

They reached the car before Alby could punch out his boss. Hopkins loaded him in and the vehicle pulled out. Apparently someone had told the driver where to go because he didn't ask. The vehicle zipped along without a pause. The streets seemed deserted. "Where we goin'?" mumbled Alby.

"Roadblock on Route 12, sir. At least I was told to take you to Lieutenant Naddel, and that's where he is. We'll be there in two minutes."

Two minutes. Two minutes to figure out how to tell Jer that the love of his life was dead. Couldn't be done. Not if he had two years instead of two minutes.

They arrived all too quickly. "Looks like they're on full alert, sir," said the driver. Armored troopers were all about and there was an assault shuttle actually blocking the road ahead. They were forced to stop the car a hundred meters from the roadblock. A single man approached and had them get out. Alby produced his ID.

"Here to see Lieutenant Naddel," he said.

"Just got word you were coming, sir. Okay, the Lieutenant's over there." He saw Jer and forced his reluctant legs to move toward him. Jer, also in armor, strode to meet him, visor up. The expression on his face was curious. Anxious.

"Alby, what's up?"

He told him. His mouth opened and a dozen words and pain to last a lifetime spilled out.

During that awful fight on Dounby Alby had once seen a man—a Jacksonian—shot dead in the middle of a shout. It was like that now: one instant there and then the next instant gone. All the life drained out of Jer's face. He stood a moment and then turned away. The suit of battle armor swiveled right and then left, but there were people in each direction. Finally, it headed toward a small building just off the road and faced the wall. Alby followed a few meters behind and then stopped and watched.

After a bit, a sergeant came up, glancing anxiously between Alby and his lieutenant. "Sir?" he said to Alby.

"Take over, sergeant. He's… gonna need a few minutes."

"Uh… okay, sir." The sergeant moved off.

A small crowd was forming, mostly people in militia uniforms. They must have been helping man the roadblock, Alby realized numbly. After a bit, someone said something and there was a chorus of cries and exclamations and curses. Yeah, yeah, sergeants had ways to find things out… and this news was going to spread like wildfire. After a bit longer, that sergeant came back, his face set and angry. "I'll keep 'em away, sir. Take as long as you need." Alby wasn't sure if he was talking to him or Jer. Maybe the sergeant didn't know either. Alby just nodded to him and the man moved off again. The other people drew back.

It was quite a while, but eventually Jer removed his helmet and then slowly sat down with his back leaning against the building. There were tears on his face and he looked straight ahead. Alby sat down next to him, feeling ridiculously tiny, not being in armor. Neither one said anything.

It was getting dark and a woman in fatigues approached bearing a couple of ration packs and water bottles. She looked helplessly at Jer and it was obvious she'd been crying. She set the stuff down and backed away a few meters and then turned and fled. Alby looked at the food but had no inclination to eat. His thoughts tumbled about randomly, bouncing off the sharp, bloody corners that seemed to fill his mind. That early thought about revenge surfaced again. He needed to get back to work. Track those bastards down. But there was no way he could abandon Jer.

Night had fallen before Jer finally stirred. "We both always knew this could happen," he said softly.

"Yeah."

"But we never talked about it. Not really."

"No."

"What am I going to do, Alby?"

"I don't know."

Another long silence engulfed them.

It was fully dark when two new people arrived. Patric Mederov and Sven Estaban. The Colonel must have sent them. They approached slowly and after staring at Jer, they sat down next to Alby. Neither one said anything, but after a bit Patric started picking up pebbles and tossing then away. Shortly after that, Sven produced a bottle and passed it around. Alby took a swig. Brandy. Pretty good brandy. He held it up to Jer. It took two tries, but eventually Jer removed his armored gauntlets and took the bottle.

The brandy was on its third time around when Sven Estaban said: "She was one hell of lady, wasn't she?"

That put a crack in the dam and dribble by dribble they started to talk. Memories of Anny Payne. Remember when we first saw her at the obstacle course? That T-shirt she was wearing? Our eyeballs must have been sticking out half a meter! And the Fire! Oh My God, I thought we were toast! But she got us out. She always got us out, didn't she? Whatever mess we got into, she always saved our sorry asses.

They cried some and laughed some and the bottle was empty and the ration packs, too, before they finally ran down. Much had been left unsaid—too many fond memories led to the painful realization that there would be no more to be made in the future—but what had been said had been a comfort for all of them. Alby sank back against the wall and closed his eyes, the blackness made a bit less bleak by the friends around him.

"Alby? Alby wake up."

Alby blinked awake and squinted against the glare of a field lantern being held above him.

"Wha…?"

"Alby, the Colonel wants to see you right away. He says it is very important."

"Rad?"

"Yes. Please wake up."

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and saw that it was, indeed, Rad Benin, the Cetagandan exchange officer and his sometime roommate. "What the hell time is it?"

"O340 hours."

"And the Colonel wants me now?"

"Yes, now. Lieutenant Naddel, as well."

"Why?"

"I cannot say. But it is most urgent. Get up, please."

With a groan he hauled himself to his feet. Several people were unloading a totally confused Jer out of his armor and giving him some coveralls. A minute later, they were bundled into a tiny scout flyer which delivered them to the HQ building in about thirty seconds. But why? Maybe they found who did this. A target…

The HQ was very busy considering the time. They were ushered into the situation room, which was calmer, but no less crowded than the last time he'd been there. Just yesterday…

"Ah, Vorsworth, Naddel. Good. Sit down." It was Fetherbay, looking tired and less crisp than his usual self. A beard shadow was on his chin and his tunic was open. Alby and Jer found seats and exchanged befuddled glances. "Colonel, could you repeat what you told us earlier?"

Only now did Alby notice the stranger in the room: a colonel with ImpSec 'Eyes of Horus' insignia on his collar. The man looked a bit annoyed, but shrugged.

"If you insist, Colonel." He turned to face the two of them. "The item of primary importance to you is that after a thorough examination of the rubble at the explosion site, we've come to the definite conclusion that Lord Vorpatril and Lieutenant Payne were not in the building at the time of the explosion."

"What!?"

[Scene Break]

Jer Naddel clutched the conference table and refused to believe it. Anny was dead. She wasn't going to come back to life just because some ImpSec colonel said so. That didn't happen. Not in real life. Not in his life. This was just some cruel trick. Some bureaucratic blunder.

But Alby was going crazy. He was jabbering and clutching Jer's wrist so tightly his fingers were going numb. How do you know? How do you know? he demanded.

"Any explosion will leave some remains, Lieutenant," the ImpSec guy was saying. "Even an explosion this powerful. Even if the bodies were completely vaporized, there would still be organic residue left that we would be able to identify. After carefully sampling the area in and around the blast site, we have found no residue of Lord Vorpatril or Lieutenant Payne. None whatsoever. Nor of the Da Silva woman or the boy who joined them. We have found some tiny human traces, but they were surely produced by the normal accumulation of hair and skin cells left by the building's usual inhabitants. Your people had to have been removed before the explosion occurred."

"But how?" demanded another man. He wore major's tabs and a BEF HQ patch on his tunic. Jer had never seen him before. "We had them on thermals the whole time! They were still there, in the building, right up to the moment it blew!"

"With due respect, major," said the ImpSec colonel, "your people are trained for battlefield operations—which I'm sure they do very well—but they are not trained for this sort of thing. My people are. We've analyzed the data your drones recorded and while at first glance things appear to be as you say, a trained eye can pick it apart and see when and how the deception occurred."

"For the benefit of us poor combat troops, could you elaborate, colonel?" said Fetherbay, his voice a mix of exhaustion and exasperation. Jer just gawked. Could this really be true? Could Anny still be alive? He hardly dared believe it. Because if he did and then it turned out not to be true… he couldn't go through that again. Couldn't lose her again…

"…now as you can see here," the ImpSec guy was saying, pointing to one of the monitors "the thermal images of Lord Vorpatril, Lieutenant Payne, the Da Silva woman, and the local boy—we've managed to identify him from images taken as he moved to the building, by the way, he's one of Da Silva's students and as far as we can tell, simply there by chance—the images, while just vague outlines, still have sufficient variation in size and shape that we can pick out who is who with little difficulty."

"We were able to tell that," muttered the major.

"Yes," said the colonel, raising an eyebrow, "but there are additional clues to be seen. Upon entering this room, there is a critical fifteen second period where Vorpatril, Payne, and the boy—but not Da Silva—cease to move. Then, here, they move for a few seconds and stop again. Please note how parts of their thermal outlines appear partially obscured during this movement. This does not happen to Da Silva. We theorize that this obscuration is caused by individuals in stealth gear. They probably immobilized Vorpatril, Payne and the boy with some sort of chemical agent since no energy discharges, as from a stunner, were detected. Then they are immobile for nearly one minute, during which time Da Silva's image merges with that of the boy, as if she were sitting with him in her lap." Jer blinked at the screen. Anny? Alive?

"Now, here is where it happens. Similar obscurations as before, but with the images also stretching, changing shape and then resuming their original status and immobility." The colonel paused and looked over his audience. "A clever slight-of-hand, gentlemen. The abductors, knowing you would be monitoring our people, could not just trot off with their captives. They had to place decoys to keep your attention, while at the same time cutting off the real heat signatures of our people so they could be removed. If this were my operation, I would have prepared dummies of the appropriate size with internal heaters to keep them at the proper temperature. These dummies would be kept wrapped inside stealth blankets until needed. Then when the time was right, the dummies would be unveiled while the victims were wrapped in the same type blankets—perhaps the very ones if they were quick enough.

"However, we can also speculate that the abductors were not prepared for the addition of the boy. Why they did not simply leave him to die, I can't guess, but they found themselves short a dummy. Hence the merging of his image with Da Silva. When the switch is made, we can assume that Da Silva's dummy is left while she carries the boy, concealed by the stealth blanket. Now…" He pointed at the screen again. "The switch is made and completed at time mark 1524.33. Five minutes and twenty-eight seconds later the bomb explodes. During that intervening time, the abductors escape with their captives."

The major slowly nodded. "We noticed the strange lack of movement, sir. But we assumed our people were either waiting for the insurgents to arrive, or that there was, in fact, one or more stealth-suited individuals already there and the conference had begun. In either case, we had no reason to intervene—until it was too late."

"But how did they get out?" demanded Major Danilov, the regiment's operations officer. "We never let down our perimeter!"

"The bomb destroyed almost, but not quite everything, Major. Underground scans have detected the remains of a tunnel. We can't tell exactly where it went to inside the school, but the other end intersects with a city utility tunnel that runs under the street, here." He manipulated the display controls and a map of the city appeared. Colored lines crisscrossed it and a red light pulsed wh

ere he pointed. "A shame you didn't think to put any sensors down there."

"We did, sir!" said Captain Hopkins. "But there are over forty kilometers of those tunnels and we had a limited supply of the sensors. We concentrated on the most vital sections; the ones around this headquarters, the main power plant, water works, and so forth. We couldn't cover everything!"

"I see. Pity. But once out of the school area, the abductors could have gone almost anywhere in the city. Hopefully we shall be able to find them before they can escape again." A number of people began suggesting ways to search. Yes, yes, they had to find her now…

"But she's alive!" hissed Alby. "She's alive, Jer!"

[Scene Break]

Anny groaned and opened her eyes. At first everything was just a blur, but some repeated blinking eventually brought things into focus. A dark gray, rather irregular, ceiling was above her; something soft and flat lay under her. A bunk of some sort, she imagined; her hands scrunched up a blanket that covered her and the metal frame creaked slightly when she shifted her weight. Her arms and legs felt so heavy she wasn't sure she could move them.

What happened?

The last thing she could remember was… what? Following Ines Da Silva on a seemingly endless tour of the town… the school… Paulo showing up unexpectedly… the classroom… men in stealth suits… and a dart in her flesh!

Ambush, we were ambushed.

That realization lent sufficient urgency to force her traitor limbs to move. She rolled on her side and then pushed herself upright. Looking around, she could see that she was in a small room that had all the marks of a prison cell. The floor was smooth concrete, but the walls looked to be native stone, as if the room had been literally cut out of the rock. There was a second bunk opposite her upon which Lord Vorpatril lay face down, snoring softly. To her left was the only door, which looked very solid. A toilet and sink were to the right, mounted on the floor rather than the wall. She discovered Paulo lying on the floor at the foot of her bunk wrapped in a pile of blankets. Ines Da Silva was not there. The place was chilly and damp and it smelled of mold and machine oil and, oddly, the sea. A single glow-bulb in the ceiling provided a dim light.

A wave of dizziness seized her and she nearly vomited. But it passed after a minute of deep breathing. After-effects of whatever drug had been on that dart, she supposed. Once her stomach had settled, she became aware of the pressure in her bladder. There was no privacy whatsoever, but Vorpatril and Paulo were still out and hell, she was a soldier, wasn't she?

It was only at that point that she realized she was now wearing a one-piece set of coveralls and nothing else. Vorpatril, as well. She couldn't see how Paulo was dressed because of the blankets. The thought that at some point she'd been stripped naked and redressed by strangers was alarming. But there wasn't anything she could do about it now. And she did need to go. Hell, there were probably hidden vid pick-ups watching her right now, so what difference did it make?

After finishing her business and checking to verify that the door was, indeed, locked, she decided to wake Vorpatril. This proved easier said than done, but after quite a bit of shaking and whispering she eventually had him sitting up on the bunk. "Shit… shit…" he groaned. "What t' hell happened…?"

"It would seem we've been kidnapped, my lord. At the very least we are locked in somewhere and I don't think it's the school. Are you feeling all right? Whatever drug they used on us was pretty nasty."

"You're not kidding. Damn, I haven't felt this hung over since… oh hell!" Vorpatril suddenly made a lunge for the toilet and managed to empty his stomach into it instead of on the floor. Anny politely looked away until he was done splashing water from the sink on his face and returned to his bunk. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Nearly did the same thing myself, sir."

"Well, I've been locked up in worse places, but only just. So who do you think is responsible for this? The EnBees or those insurgents? If this is how they change sides, I think I'd rather have them as enemies!"

"I'm starting to wonder if there ever were any insurgents, sir. I can't see any sense in them doing this and… and I have to believe that Ines knew she was leading us into a trap." Anny shook her head in disgust. She'd trusted her!

"I thought she'd been question under fast-penta."

"She was. They had me there to take her home afterwards. I wasn't present for the actual questioning, though. I just don't understand…"

"Who did the questioning?" asked Vorpatril.

"I think it was someone from BEF headquarters."

"Not ImpSec?"

"No sir."

"Ah." Vorpatril looked thoughtful, but was silent for so long Anny finally prompted:

"Sir?"

"Oh. Yeah. My Cousin Miles used to work for ImpSec and he once told me that under the right circumstances, it's possible to beat a sloppy fast-penta interrogation. Miles, himself, has a screwy reaction to fast-penta that allows him to beat it, but even a normal person can do it with the right preparation. If you know exactly what questions you are going to be asked, you can use a sort of hypnotic suggestion to allow you to give the answers you want to those questions. That's why a good interrogator will ask his questions many times and in a lot of different ways. If you can catch any inconsistencies or cracks in the story, you can break down the defense and get through to the truth. But I'm guessing the BEF guy didn't do that. He'd been told that Da Silva was just some local school teacher and he treated her that way. He asked a few questions, like he would to some grunt POW, got the answers he was expecting and left it at that."

"I was surprised at how quickly it went," admitted Anny.

"Yeah, that fits. Are you working for the enemy? No. Is this a trap? No. Okay, good, you can go." Vorpatril snorted.

"I just can't believe that Ines would…" said Anny shaking her head sadly. The sense of betrayal was numbing, infuriating. "Except… except…"

"What?"

"Thinking back now… some of things she did and said…" Anny tried to organize her thoughts. "At the church… she pulled me away, got me to safety just in time—like she knew what was going to happen! Later, she said that she'd wanted to talk to me about her brother and I just thought it had been a lucky coincidence that she wanted some privacy, away from the crowd. But why approach me there in the first place?"

"Does seem odd."

"And damn it! I'm an idiot! She told me that her brother was sick of the fighting and killing—like what had happened at the church! But when she first tried to talk to me, the church bombing hadn't happened yet! Oh, I should have seen that!" She clenched her fist and thumped it on her bunk.

"Always clearer in hindsight. No one else saw it either, Anny."

"I should have!"

"Stop beating yourself up. I don't suppose there's a coffee maker hidden in here anywhere?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure there are audio and video pick-ups hidden in here, so we need to be careful what we talk about."

Vorpatril snorted. "I doubt very much that either of us know anything that our hosts aren't already well aware of. Seems like they were three steps ahead of us the whole time."

"Yeah," said Anny. There being nothing else to say, Anny checked Paulo, but the boy seemed to still be deeply asleep. Considering how potent the drug on the darts had been on full-sized adults, a child might be knocked out for a lot longer. She hoped that he was okay.

"Uh, Anny…" She turned and saw Lord Vorpatril looking a bit embarrassed. "I need to use the…" he motioned at the toilet. "Would you mind?"

"Oh. Sure." She went to the end of her bunk farthest away and stared at the wall. After a few moments the toilet flushed and water ran in the sink. Then Vorpatril suddenly exclaimed:

"Damn!"

"What?" said Anny twisting around.

"The bastards took my wedding ring!" He was holding up his hand and frowning.

"Oh dear. I guess they stripped us to make sure we didn't have any tracking devices on us. Sorry, sir."

"I wonder if they've still got it or if they just dumped it with the rest of our clothes. Damn." He was really upset. Anny was glad she'd never gotten in the habit of wearing jewelry.

Vorpatril went back to his bunk and after a bit Anny lay back on her own. There was absolutely nothing to do but fret. What did their captors want? If they'd done any research at all, they had to realize that Barrayar's policy toward hostage takers would not lead to any concessions. And while Vorpatril was very high Vor, Anny was no one at all; hardly worth the effort they'd expended to snatch her. Which probably makes me totally expendable…

After an hour or so—there was no way to measure the passage of time—Paulo finally woke up and she had to spend quite some time soothing the frightened boy. The fact that she couldn't tell him where they were, what their captors wanted, or when they'd be allowed to go home made the task all the harder.

Some time later, a small panel in the door slid open and a tray was pushed into their cell. It had three packs of field rations on it. Vorpatril shouted through the opening, but it immediately slid shut again.

"Well," he said in annoyance. "Whoever they are, they've certainly got us."

[Scene Break]

"What do you mean he's been taken?" Tej stared at Ambassador Vorpinski and his wife in disbelief.

"I'm so sorry, Tej. It would seem that the offer to negotiate was a ruse. We have every reason to believe that Ivan is unharmed, but it may take us a while to get him back. But don't worry, we'll do everything in our power."

"Yes, dear," added Lady Vorpinski, "there's no need to worry. I'm sure everything will be fine." The pair had arrived at her quarters unannounced and that, as much as anything else, had told Tej that everything was not fine!

"But… but what happened? How did you lose him? I thought you had all that security on the job!"

"It's rather complicated. The… opposition, had a very elaborate deception plan in place and I'm afraid they outwitted our security people. But the mere fact that they went to such great lengths to… acquire your husband indicates that they place a high value on him and they will certainly take good care of him."

"So how much do they want to give him back? Will Barrayar pay?" Tej tried to calculate just how much Ivan Xav would be worth in ransom if this was a Jacksonian situation.

"Well, we haven't been contacted by the opposition and I rather doubt that they are interested in money."

"What then?"

"We don't know yet. Something to do with this war, I imagine. But until they contact us, we can only guess. And search for him, of course. We have a lot of people working on this, Tej."

"Did they… did they take that Lieutenant Payne, too?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. They were very clever."

So the bodyguard couldn't even guard herself. What were these idiots thinking? What was Ivan Xav thinking? Anger flared inside her. "A shame we weren't as clever!"

"You poor dear!" said Lady Vorpinski. "I know how hard this must be for you, but you have to have faith. We'll get Ivan back to you." She started to move forward as if she was going to embrace Tej, but pulled up short when she saw the murderous glare in her eye. The Vorpinskis made a few more ridiculous attempts to console her and then finally withdrew, leaving Tej alone.

Alone.

She looked around the empty apartment and realized just how empty it was. I'm alone. Never in her life had she been truly alone. Growing up on Jackson's Whole, the pampered daughter of a powerful baron, she'd had family, servants, bodyguards, tutors. Even during the terrifying flight following the takeover, she'd had Rish. And then she'd had Ivan Xav. Of course she still had family, but they were an impossible distance away. And she had bodyguards—whole battalions of them, not that that had done Ivan Xav any good. But there wasn't one single person here who she could really count on to act in her best interest.

Except me.

As she sat there alone, she realized that for the first time in her life she was going to have to act. Oh, she'd acted before: she'd fled when she was told to flee and then she'd hidden when she was told to hide and fled again and hidden some more. Step by step until she'd found herself with Rish and their truly pathetic decision to try and safeguard what was left of the family by jumping off a high balcony rather than risk capture. Not fight. Not figure out some way to escape. Just jump and end it all. She still had nightmares about it. If Ivan Xav hadn't been there. If Ivan Xav hadn't decided to marry her right there in his apartment… At every point there had been someone telling her what to do or acting on her behalf.

No more!

It was time to act for herself. For herself and for Ivan Xav. For her own. But what could she do? First thing was to get more information. She went to the comconsole and started calling up officers she'd met through her husband. Did any of them know anything? Could any of them do anything? She was met with sympathy and lots of reasons why it would be best for her to wait and see what happened. More attempts with diplomatic personnel she knew were met with similar results. In frustration she left the apartment and walked around the diplomatic compound to blow off steam. She saw a few people she knew or had met at parties, but they didn't speak. Some of them had bodyguards trailing them. Hired muscle? That was a concept she was familiar with! That was the way things were done on the Whole. She did have some money. Could she hire someone to help her find Ivan Xav? But who? Locals might be the best bet, but she didn't know any of the locals except for a few people with the revolutionary government and she knew they weren't to be trusted. Back on the Whole there were people you could hire for this sort of job, but here…? Where did you find guns for hire on Novo Paveo? Guns for hire. A thought struck her and she turned and hurried back to her apartment, back to her comconsole.

Getting through to the person she wanted was not easy, but she kept at it, working her way through one obstruction after another. Finally the screen lit up and the face of a puzzled man in a light gray uniform looked out at her from the comconsole. "DFMS Ariel, communications. Uh, can I help you, miss?"

"Yes! I want to talk to Admiral Quinn! Right now!"

[Scene Break]

Alby rubbed his burning eyes and went back to staring at his comconsole screens. He had no idea what time it was or how long he'd been working. Late. Hours. Days. It didn't matter. He had to find Anny. Had to. Never in his life had he felt so driven. It had been four days since Anny had been captured. The Regiment had torn the town of Milagres apart looking for her and found nothing. Well, that wasn't true: they had found some things. They found a number of tunnels that did not show up on any map of the city's underground utilities. Some were long deserted, while a few others showed signs of recent occupation. And they'd found a pile of ashes that had been tentatively identified as the remains of the clothing worn by Anny, Ivan Vorpatril, and the two civilians. While it was entirely understandable from a tactical perspective, the thought of Anny's captors stripping her naked filled Alby with an unaccustomed rage. Someone's gonna pay for this!

But just how to make them pay was eluding Alby. They had clearly gotten her out of the town and he thought he had a good idea how. His screen was displaying an image taken from orbit which showed the Milagres harbor area. It had been taken about an hour after the kidnapping, just as the tide was starting to go out. The fishing fleet was riding the waters out just as it did every day. A few dozen boats of various sizes were swept out to sea by the vicious tidal flow. All except that one. One of the boats steered a bit too close to the small pillar of rock that sat in the middle of the harbor. The locals called it Pedaco, which just meant 'lump', and there was nothing there as far as anyone knew. As far as we knew! But that one boat went aground on Pedaco that day. And it was not an unprecedented event. Alby had checked back months and it did happen from time to time. But he was starting to suspect that something other than poor seamanship was involved!

The orbital image wasn't specifically focused in on anything so unfortunately the resolution of the boat and its occupants wasn't very good. But people could be seen getting off the boat and scurrying around on the small island. It was very hard to sort out, but it did not appear that as many people got back on the boat as had gotten off, when the tide came back in to float them off again. Could Anny and the others have been left on that rock? Or in that rock? Could there be caves or tunnels there, too?

But what about all those other boats? She might have been on one of them, instead. Getting another cup of coffee, Alby started to check out each and every one of them. It was well after dawn before he was through. As far as he could tell from the grainy images, all of the other boats had had a normal day of fishing. None of them had rendezvoused with other vessels or transferred passengers. At least not with any surface vessels; what about submarines? That thought left Alby frustrated. A well-stealthed submersible would be undetectable by the orbital sensors. If that was what had happened, then he'd reached a dead end.

No! It's that damn lump of rock, I know it!

He thought back to the battle in the town when they'd first come to Tamborete. The EnBees were trying to break through Anny's company to get to the water! Why? It had made no sense. But if there was some sort of refuge on that rock…

He assembled his data into a presentation of sorts and went to Captain Hopkins. "Up all night again, Alby?" asked his boss. "You look terrible."

"Thanks. I think I've got something, sir."

"Really? That would be welcome! No one else is finding anything, that's for sure! What have you got?"

Alby showed him and was gratified when Hopkins immediately grew excited. Hopkins was no genius, but he had the ability to actually listen to people, which made him worth his weight in gold in Alby's experience. "Great work, Alby!" he exclaimed. "Let's show this to the Colonel!"

They found Fetherbay and in an amazingly short time an operation was being planned to investigate the island. A company in battle armor, accompanied by a sapper squad with sensors would swarm the island in a lightning strike. Hopefully if Anny and Vorpatril were there, they could be freed before the enemy knew what hit them. Before they could kill them… It was damn risky, but Alby couldn't see any other option.

Within an hour, the strike was assembled and dispatched, which was very fast work. Alby and the whole regimental staff and a few men from BEF HQ and that ImpSec colonel all watched it unfold from the situation room. The assault shuttles swooped down on the island and disgorged their troops. In a matter of minutes the lump was occupied. They found the cave entrance shortly after that and the troopers stormed into it, the cameras on their armor letting the observers go along.

It quickly became apparent that while the cave entrance may have been natural, that what lay further in was not. A passageway with stairs led down…

…but not very far.

After twenty or thirty meters, the passage was completely blocked by fallen stone. The sappers' sensors showed that the blockage was complete and that no open areas lay below as far as their sensors could reach. An engineering officer accompanying the force was of the opinion that the rock fall was very recent, probably just a few days old.

A sigh of disappointment seemed to sweep through the situation room. Another dead end. "But it's pretty clear that someone was there," said Fetherbay. "And probably right around the time that Payne and Vorpatril were taken. I think we know now how they were gotten out of the town. Well done, Mr. Vorsworth." He nodded at Alby.

"Unfortunately," said the ImpSec colonel, "we don't know it the prisoners were then transferred to some submersible vessel or if more tunnels lead away from that rock and they were taken to some underground refuge."

"We'll have the engineers take some deep sensor readings to look for more tunnels," said Major Danilov.

"And check for any suspicious vessels in the region," suggested someone else.

More suggestions and orders followed, but it was clear that they were all grasping at straws. So far the enemy had been two steps ahead of them at every turn. It was too much to hope that they would screw up now. Alby and Hopkins headed back to their office, Alby yawning prodigiously. "Get some sleep, Alby," said Hopkins. "That's an order."

Unable to think of anything better, he did as he was told. But six hours of sleep, a shower and a meal didn't make him feel much better. Damn, there had to be something more he could do! He went back to his desk and started going through his files. Those old traffic control logs that Izabella had gotten him had been yielding some interesting data before this whole mess had interrupted. Maybe he should go back to them…

But he'd only been at it a few minutes when the comconsole pinged with an incoming message. He looked at the caller ID and his eyebrows rose. What the hell? He hit the accept key and the screen filled with the face of a very attractive woman in a military uniform. "Lieutenant Vorsworth, here," he said. "Can… can I help you?"

"I hope so, Lieutenant. I'm Admiral Quinn of the Dendarii Free Mercenaries. We have a mutual acquaintance who has approached me for help." The screen spilt and Alby saw another attractive female face. This was one he recognized.

"Lady Vorpatril?"

"Hello, Lieutenant. My husband used to work for your father and I was hoping… I was hoping that…"

"What Lady Vorpatril means," said Quinn, interrupting, "is that you and she have parallel goals. And all three of us have parallel needs. What she needs is more resources. What you need is more information. And what I need is some reliable people dirtside. I've done some checking on you, lieutenant, and it appears that you are something of an Intel wunderkind. I've got some damn good people working for me, too." Quinn looked at him with an odd smile.

"I propose that we join forces."

[Scene Break]

"So how long do you think we've been here?" Ivan looked at Anny Payne and scratched at his growing beard. "At least a week if my whiskers are to be believed."

"About that, I'd think, sir," answered Payne very slowly. "They've fed us sixteen times. I guess we were unconscious for close to a day before that. So yes, maybe a week." They were both speaking Russian in the probably vain hope that their listening captors wouldn't be able to decipher it. Payne's Russian was pretty rusty, Ivan's was somewhat better.

"Pretty damn boring being cooped up in here. What the hell do these people want, anyway?" Aside from the meals that arrived from time to time, there had been no contact with their captors.

"I want to go home!" whined Paulo. The kid had shown remarkable patience considering the circumstances, but it was clearly wearing thin. Well, so's mine! Payne went and sat next to the boy and tried to distract him from their troubles, but there really wasn't anything to do. They'd fashioned a checkers board and pieces out of their rations packs, but they were all pretty much checkered out at the moment. Word games, story-telling (Ivan's stories that were fit for children were somewhat limited), they'd done it all. They were all getting grouchy and irritable. And a bit smelly. A week without a shower was starting to tell. They did have the sink and a bar of soap…

"You know if we stood one of the bed frames on end and draped the blankets, we could set up a sort of shower stall next to the sink. Even a sponge bath would be welcome right now."

Payne looked skeptical. "There's no drain in the floor, sir. All the water would sit there and as damp as it is in here already, it probably wouldn't dry for a long time."

"True," said Ivan, giving up on the idea in disappointment. Well, after another week she might think differently. Another week. Bah. He lay down on his bunk. Damn, I miss Tej! There was a time when Ivan wouldn't have minded being in such close quarters with a very attractive woman like Anny Payne, but marriage had changed him in a lot of ways. He wasn't even tempted. Not that they could really do much with the kid and the inevitable watchers that must be out there. He'd looked around for hidden vid pickups, but hadn't found any. But he was certain they were there.

He had nearly dozed off when a sound at the door had all three of them on their feet and wide awake. Someone coming at last? The lock clicked and the door swung open. Ivan hadn't really expected it to be a rescue party, but he was still disappointed when he saw that it was a group of EnBee soldiers. Not rescuers and apparently not the renegade insurgents, either. So it had all been a fake. Some of the EnBees held stunners, two had shock sticks, and two had plasma arcs. Not taking any chances. They must think we're pretty dangerous! "Come on," said the leader. "You two. The kid stays here." He tossed them pairs of soft slippers which Ivan gratefully put on his bare feet.

"Paulo, you have to stay here," said Payne. "We'll be back soon."

"Anny! I want to stay with you!"

"I'll keep him company," said another voice. Ivan looked and saw that Da Silva was there, behind the soldiers. She stood aside while Ivan and Anny moved past. Ivan glared at her, but she met his eyes and glared back just as venomously. In that instant, he realized that the woman wasn't some innocent victim that had been forced to participate in the abduction against her will. She's one of them! He and Payne had speculated about it when the boy was asleep. Payne didn't want to believe that she'd been completely duped by the woman, but Ivan had no doubt now.

Finally out of their cell, they discovered that beyond it lay a long corridor which looked to have been cut from solid rock just like their cell. Glow bulbs were stuck to the ceiling at intervals and other, similar, doors were set in the wall every dozen meters or so. More prisoners? The corridor went on and on with other corridors intersecting at times. They went up several sets of steps into another corridor that was better lit and more heavily travelled. Ivan glimpsed large chambers and smaller offices down side corridors inhabited by hundreds of people. He exchanged glances with Payne. This was clearly a major base and it was a bit alarming that they were being allowed to see so much of it. Whatever their captors wanted them for it wasn't going to be 'catch-and-release'. They already knew way too much for that.

Eventually they reached a door that had two sentries outside. They were ushered through into what was clearly the reception room for an office of somebody important. Wood paneling covered the stone walls and there was carpet on the floor. Pictures hung on the walls and fine furniture graced the room. A rather decorative young woman sat behind the desk.

"Ah yes," she said with a smile that wasn't the least bit friendly. "Lord Vorpatril, Lieutenant Payne, the Most Excellent Marques will see you shortly. In the meantime, perhaps you would like to freshen up a bit. The capitao will see to your needs."

They were ushered out again and down another corridor and then into a sort of locker room space with showers. Ivan glanced awkwardly at Anny, but she just shrugged in reply and started taking off her coveralls. About a third of the EnBees escorting them were women and apparently their facilities were all unisex, so there was nothing for it. He tried not to stare as they showered, but Payne surely was a fine looking woman. When they finished, they were given clean coveralls and they put their same slippers back on. This had clearly been an attempt to intimidate them, but it was still nice to be clean. Sadly no depilatory had been supplied so he was stuck with his scruffy beard.

Then it was back to the splendid office where they were allowed to sit and even offered coffee, which was remarkably good. They were otherwise ignored for a good half-hour but finally the door to the inner office opened and they were escorted inside. Behind an enormous polished wood desk sat a narrow-faced man with shiny black hair, mustache and small imperial. He was wearing a uniform that had the cut and fabric of the fatigues the soldiers were wearing, but with all manner of decorations and elaborate braid added. To Ivan it looked very odd, but he knew that the Nuevo Brasilians were probably only second to the Cetagandans when it came to personal vanity. The man regarded them with calculating eyes for a few moments and then waved them to a pair of chairs.

"Lord Vorpatril, Lieutenant Payne," he said in good English, "I am General Caldeira Felisberto Brant Pontes de Oliveira, Marques de Barbajena. I will not welcome you, because you are most definitely not welcome here. You and all the other galactic scum that have followed are interlopers, trespassers in affairs that are none of your business! You fear Nuevo Brasilia's greatness. You conspire to deny us our rightful place in the galaxy! What gives you the right to do this?"

Ivan didn't think the man actually wanted an answer so he said nothing.

"You have no right!" snarled the EnBee general, answering his own question. "And you will soon learn the error of your ways!" He went on for a good five minutes extolling the glories of Nuevo Brasilia and the inequities of the Alliance members. Eventually he ran out of steam and glared at them in silence. "I should have you shot," he added after a moment.

"Considering all the effort you went to to get us here, that would seem an awful waste," said Ivan. He didn't have a clue what to call the man; the title he'd poured out had been almost incomprehensible. General? Marques? That would be about the equivalent of a count on Barrayar he guessed. Someone pretty important it seemed.

"Yes," said the man. "You do have a role in what is to come: the removal of all you invaders."

"Uh, if you've done any research you must realize that trying to use us as hostages will get you nothing. The Barrayaran Expeditionary Force is not going to leave no matter what you threaten to do to us." Was that really a good thing to tell him?

The man snorted. "You flatter yourself, Lord Vorpatril, if you think we place that sort of value on you! No, acquiring you and the lieutenant was just a bit of good fortune, an opportunity that we took advantage of. No, you are just icing on the cake." He paused and eyed them with an unsettling smile. "Would you like to see the cake, my lord?"

Ivan glanced at Payne, who just shrugged warily. The general was clearly just dying to show them his 'cake'. So why not? "If you wish, general."

"Excellent. You will come with me." He got up from his desk. Ivan and Anny rose and were immediately surrounded by the escort. Back into another corridor which made several turns and then ended at a large set of metal double doors. Sentries stood there and they immediately stepped aside and opened the doors at the approach of the general.

Beyond was a balcony that looked out onto an enormous open space. It was circular, with walls that curved up to a roof that was far overhead, studded with powerful lights. The far side looked to be at least a couple of kilometers away. Ivan gaped. The only things he'd ever seen remotely like this were the domes on Komarr. This wasn't as big as the one covering Solstice, but it was at least as big as some of the smaller ones there. The floor was crowded with stacks of crates and row after row of military vehicles and guns. Hundreds of troops swarmed over them.

"At least brigade strength," whispered Anny from beside him.

"Jackpot," he whispered back. The Alliance had known the EnBees had secret underground bases on the planet, they'd even found a few of them, but Ivan didn't think anyone expected there to be anything like this!

"Impressive is it not?" asked the general. "While you fools have been chasing phantoms all over Novo Paveo, we have been assembling this! Your fleets are now far away, diverted by our own navy, and your armies are scattered. The capital of Araxa lies virtually undefended. In a very short time, this force will have re-occupied the city. Then, with it, and the two of you, and hopefully some other important prisoners in our hands, then, your miserable alliance will see the hopelessness of your situation, the utter folly of continuing this war, and they will withdraw." He nodded at them. "And if your people show wisdom, you might even see your homes again someday."

"You'll have to get past the 61st," said Payne defiantly.

"Ah yes. I'll admit that the arrival of your regiment here so unexpectedly was a bit of a bother. But since now they, too, are dispersed hither and yon—looking for the two of you!—they won't prove much of an obstacle."

Ivan stared at the force in front of him. Could that really happen? It was true that most of the troops that had once been near the capital were now dispersed. And Tej is there… But wait… "Only some of our fleet is at the wormhole, general. There are still plenty of the smaller warships still in orbit. Enough to blast this force to atoms long before it can reach Araxa."

The general smirked. "You think so? Well think again. Come this way." There was a walkway that led from the balcony and appeared to go clear around the huge space. They followed the general for quite a ways and saw ahead that there was a mass of scaffolding and gantries and cranes surrounding something very large. They got closer but Ivan still wasn't sure what he was looking at. It was like a flattened hemisphere in general shape, probably two hundred meters across at its widest. All manner of projections studded its surface and it was sitting on top of two enormous sets of caterpillar tracks. Workers were climbing all over it and cranes were lowering large objects down through open access panels. The eye-searing glare of welders came from a dozen spots on its surface and the stink of burned metal filled the air. The general pointed at it. "A few more days and it will be ready."

"What the hell is it?" asked Ivan.

The general looked at them and smiled. "Lieutenant Payne knows, don't you, Lieutenant? I can see it in your face. Perhaps you can it explain it to Lord Vorpatril."

Ivan looked at Payne, but the woman was just staring at the thing with wide eyes.

"Oh my God," she whispered.