Chapter Seven
The next morning, Sankt Peterbug train terminal
As it turned out... Irwine's expectations turned justified.
The two, loitering near the end of the platform, between two kiosks and a street-vendor stall, observed the twin lines of people waiting to board the train headed for Tblisi, Georgia. There was no direct train line to Yelena's hometown, but Tblisi was a good bet, and from there, less then a hundred kilometre drive to Signagi. The 'normals only', and 'augs only' segments were clearly denoted, and any augmented passengers were being very careful not to draw attention from the multitude of police officers and a pair of exoframe troops standing around keeping an eye on things. Every now and again, someone would be singled out and ran through a comprehensive check, where all their posessions would be searched and tallied up, before they'd be allowed to proceed. Mostly smoothly.
Mostly.
The specifics of the checks were something that made the man grimace. The police were none-too-gentle with some of those stopped, and to his military-trained eye, the ones that seemed to get the most harassment, were the ones that were the most assertive in their mannerism. Or just stuck out from the crowd. This denoted a considerable amount of – fear – from the cops. Also something he could readily pick up on. And in his experience, fear and authority was a very bad combination.
Yelena fit both of those criteria. She was assertive, and she certainly stood out from the crowd. He glanced at the tall, graceful figure beside him, her face half-covered beneath the hoodie she was wearing, coupled with simple cargo trousers and a backpack.
Clearly both the Ruzicka incident in Prague, and what happened four months ago at the airport locally, was still fresh in peoples' minds. Not to mention a number of other more minor incidents, in the interim.
"How much you wanna bet you'll get their attention? And we really don't want 'em having a look in your backpack." - quietly. Truth be told, the cops' attitude towards some of the people, made his own knuckles itch, as he narrowed his eyes in anger.
He couldn't help but think what his sister might be going through, back home, being augmented herself. This... divide... was only growing wider. And more ugly.
For the moment, the woman didn't reply, her gaze slightly upwards, on a pair of surveillance drones hovering around. She was less concerned about the cops and the heavier units, then the drones. If they focused on her and got off a facial-recognition scan, it would compromise her new identity. Not with local authorities... but such databases, she knew, were monitored and routinely accessed by their enemy.
She pulled her hood more tightly over her face, slipping deeper into the shadows between the kiosks.
"I do not bet. Let's go back to the car." - slipping away, back onto the main street. Irwine's grimace turned into a nod, as he joined her.
"So much for the tickets. Good thing we can refund..." - he wisecracked, trying to lighten the mood, but it came out hollow.
Yelena didn't reply, her eyes flickering all around them across the myriad of passerby, he noted, paying special attention to police patrols on the street. She was doing a very good job of surveilling the area, without at any point, looking like she was actively trying to do so, typing something on her phone. He leaned-in to take a look... it was a navmap. Then she pocketed it, casually.
"We will intercept the train outside the city. They will make a stop at Pushkin. And also take on cargo. A good opportunity to get aboard with the cargo. But..." - she paused, glancing at him.
"Irw, you should use your ticket and board here. And no, I am not just saying that because you are not augmented. It will be easier for me to slip aboard on my own. I can cloak. You cannot. That would add a layer of difficulty to it. I'll join you inside the train, once past Pushkin. Don't worry, I won't miss it!" - she emphasised.
The man looked ready to protest, but... gritting his teeth, he nodded, favouring his good leg slightly. The injured thigh still hurt, while walking.
"Alright... but this is fucked-up. When people have to jump through hoops just to-" - he growled, cutting himself off angrily.
She nodded.
"Why do you think I still like being a ghost...?" - darkly.
"And it will keep me from potentially killing someone. You remember that day, under a bridge, when we watched those two innocent augmented people being dragged off by police, before you made your case about the Collective? And you asked me if I care? I said I did not..." - she paused, with a flash in her dark gaze.
"I lied." - her facial expression briefly adopting that – hollow – aspect, just as quickly gone, before she walked off, towards their car.
"Figured as much." - Irwine nodded to himself in approval, getting back inside the station.
Then again, he reflected... she had changed, even since then. More and more of the woman's dormant personality and sensibilities were surfacing, coalescing into a very opinionated, willful, self-conscious, and... surprisingly sensitive and empathetic at times... person. And more to the point, one that didn't take shit, from anyone. And the way augs were treated these days... She had a temper, very clearly defined boundaries, and a sense of self-worth bordering on arrogance. Combined with her level of enhancement, combat training and killer-instinct, not to mention buried rage she carried, he could all too easily imagine what would happen, if one of those cops pushed her over the line, and flipped that switch. She was no-one's victim.
Outskirts of Tblisi, Georgia... twenty-eight hours later
A shadowy figure loitered under a faded roadside billboard, next to an old, Soviet-era water treatment facility, it's many large, moss-covered water towers obscuring the landscape. A waxing moon shone through the thick layer of cloud cover, as the figure's sharp gaze followed the passing train some distance away, on the raised embankment where the railroad was, just slowing down for a final turn, before entering the city itself.
"The package is here." - the thin, middle-aged, sharp eyed man spoke into a comms device integrated into his collar, in a distinctly British accent.
~"Confirmed?"~ - a tone manifested itself in the shadowy man's mind, through his Infolink.
"Yes, sir. Our contact aboard has detected an unsanctioned, yet dormant, Infolink signature. Satellite signal-trace failed. Cross-frequency scan failed. The carrier wave is heavily encrypted. No tentative visual confirmation among the passengers, in either normal or augmented sections, she was not observed boarding the train, but the signature's frequency profile, puts it in the ninety-percent range it belongs to a former operative like her." - the man replied crisply.
~"She is being cautious. As expected. Keep your distance and observe. We need positive visual confirmation."~ - the tone instructed.
"Yes, sir. What are your orders if confirmation is made?" - the agent asked.
~"Report on her movements, follow her to Signagi, unobserved. Once there, make contact, using the identity provided. Stay in-character. Be prepared for a lot of suspicion and distrust, outright hostility possible but unlikely. Specifics of the interaction left to your discretion, until rapport is established."~
"Understood." - the agent signed off, emotionlessly. Then he pulled out a pocket secretary, studying the brief again, before disappearing down an alley nearby.
The past day and a half on the train, was interesting to say the least, Irwine thought. Yelena was on-point, clandestinely coming aboard at Pushkin, making her presence known via their own private Infolink channel. She remained in the cargo cars for the first couple of hours, evading the ticket-check, but once the danger of discovery had passed, and they were speeding along the steppes, the two of them had found each other.
She wasn't shy at all, to settle into the normals-only areas, the two of them finding a cosy, spacious compartment, shared by three other people, a small family; husband and wife, and a mid-teen boy. At first, the audacity had earned her looks of cautious disapproval from the parents... but Yelena's surprisingly disarming attitude and outright friendly approach, soon mollified them.
Irwine was... intrigued, by this new side of her, that so far, he hadn't really seen. It wasn't long before she was chatting with the couple, about the weather, the places they've been, local politics, sports, current events, all sorts of things. Was it all an act, or was she taking the chance to improve her social skills? Back in Panama, he had seen traces of it, but she still seemed a bit standoffish around other people. This... was different. It seemed more genuine.
He himself had mostly stayed out of it, given his shaky Russian, but frankly, he didn't mind. Seeing her like this... was something he hadn't expected to see. Not after how moody she was, when they separated at the train station.
The kid, roughly fifteen-sixteen or so by his guess, was all over her, with a barrage of questions about her enhancements and what he thought she could and couldn't do, and taking wild guesses on what her job was, comparing her to other augmented people he'd seen, characters from videogames and movies, alongside of being an all-around incessant chatterbox, even making a couple of... half-serious come-ons, the kind one would expect from a pubescent horndog with a sudden crush. So much so that the parents looked outright... uncomfortable, shooting apologetic looks at her after a couple of hours, and several unsuccessful attempts to divert his attention.
Yeah. Teenagers... jesus kid, get a girlfriend...!
Was the man's thought, rolling his eyes, trying desperately to stifle a chuckle. Yelena seemed to take it in stride though, but definitely making it clear that she wasn't taking it seriously. And the boy got the message, as the conversation shifted to many other things, culminating in the two of them leaned over the teen's phone, playing games on it, as the hours passed.
Inevitably, he was dragged into it too, at Yelena's playful insistence, the three of them having an impromptu competition in a futuristic racing game, on who could get the high-score.
Unsurprisingly, the teen trounced them both, but it didn't stop her from going a few more times, clearly having fun, even if he himself got quickly tired of it.
"Didn't know you were a closet gamer, of all things..." - Irwine remarked quietly with a smile, once they took a walk, leaving the family asleep in the compartment for the time being.
"Nor did I! Then again I never had a chance to try... it is fun! I will have to download a few, for my own phone!" - the woman giggled. Another glimpse of the innocence that seemed to find it's way to the surface more and more often, as time went on.
"Think you made a friend, there." - he nodded back in the vague direction of the compartment, as they paced.
"Did I?" - Yelena sounded puzzled by the notion, "...I was not trying to. It... it was just fun. He is an interesting boy. In some ways reminded me of my brother, what I can remember of him. Much less... shy, I must say!" - she remarked with a slight shake of her head.
"Yep... kid's an animal! I swear to god, I was never that horny at his age..." - Irwine smirked.
"Mm? I don't believe that! Given how long you can last with me... you must have had plenty of practice over the years!" - she purred, giving him a hungry gaze.
"Eh... more or less. Besides, with you... I'm glad I've got staying power! You're insatiable." - the man grinned, squeezing her affectionately, then turned more thoughtful.
"But I've never seen you this... I dunno... this sociable. It's nice to see. That side of you coming out more and more!"
They moved out of the car they were in, through the connecting segment, into the next one. Out the windows, the nighttime landscape rushed by, almost blurred by the speed of the hi-velocity train. How fast were they going, he couldn't begin to guess. Irwine didn't travel by train much, most of his life, and the railway network in the USA was... behind the times, to say the least. It almost made him dizzy with motion sickness, looking out, in comparison with how calm and silent it was, inside the hi-tech train like this.
"Well... I see people around me. Mingling. Making friends. Talking about things. Just... getting along." - the woman's tone was reflective.
"...and I feel like... like..." - she paused, "...like an outsider. Like I'm still – separated. You said how you think I never really left, that world. I have been thinking about that. And you are right. I want to change that."
"You like your me-time. Nothing wrong with that." - he shrugged.
Yelena nodded reflectively.
"More like, I'm used to it. Me-time, as you call it, was mostly all I had, during those years. Don't get me wrong, there was plenty of socialising in the unit, when we were between deployments, but... I stayed out of it. I did not want any part of it. I just – shut off emotionally, most of the time. I hated them. All of them. And I couldn't do anything about it, except – detach."
"Maybe you subconsciously remembered, that day? And you just couldn't access it." - the man suggested.
"Oh, definitely. It was like... a... a barrier, in my mind. I could – feel – that something was behind it, but I couldn't see it. Not until after Montreal. Then bits and pieces started surfacing. But it wasn't until I accessed the Killing Floor's hidden database, before I got the full picture." - she stated.
"You could never do it before? How come?" - Irwine was curious.
"There were restrictions in place, on which sections were accessible. Need-to-know basis. Clearance codes that only Namir was privy to. And you need to understand... I had no... no desire, to know more. Not consciously. I was – comfortable – in the role they made for me. A tool. It was another way to detach, and not think about things. Cope. In hindsight, I wasn't much more then a programmed bot. Acting on instinct, and directives. And bloodlust. They did it to me, but I also did it to myself."
"You were afraid of stepping out of the comfort zone. About what you'd find out there." - the man murmured.
"Yes. Until I was made to step out of it, following Montreal. But when you said you don't think I ever left that world, I realised you were right. I'm still trying to detach. Instinctively. And I do not think I will ever learn to trust people. Not spontaneously. When we first met, it took a month, for me to begin to trust you. And much longer for me to get where I am with you, today. I don't trust anyone else. I'm afraid of being vulnerable. I'm afraid of opening up. Not Quinn, not the Collective... despite the freedom they gave me, I keep expecting – what is the term – the other shoe to drop." - she leaned on one of the window frames, gazing out at the half-blurred landscape.
"I mean, that's smart, given the circumstances. I sometimes think I'm too trusting." - Irwine retorted.
"Yes but don't you see? It keeps me from... from ever learning how to live... again. From making friends. From... from putting it behind me!" - she fingered the Ouroboros bracelet.
"Takes time, I guess. As long as it takes. But you've already come so far, from when we first met! And I think you've got it in you, to move on. Just don't rush it, okay? And I'm always... always... there for you!" - he kissed her lovingly.
"I don't deserve you, Irw... and I don't know what I would do if I lost you!" - she whispered, melting into the kiss.
Even as she did, a part of her realised exactly, what she would do, if that happened. She would revert. Especially if... they killed him. Irwine had become her anchor. Her emotional grounding. His affection and love was what kept her nihilism at bay. She realised that she considered him family, by now. Nothing as crude and superficial as marriage, was needed to emphasise it. Their connection went deeper then that. It was natural, and profound.
Her current state of mind had come to depend on it. That connection. Which was both a source of extraordinary strength... but also a potential weakness their enemy could exploit.
Mid-morning the following day, saw Irwine, deep in his Castor van Strohm persona, stepping out of the train in Tblisi, alone once more. Yelena would join him later, sneaking out once the cargo cars of the train were detached, and being unloaded in the depot, away from prying eyes. He passed the checkpoint without anyone so much as looking at him. Try as he might, the man couldn't fail to appreciate the fact he wasn't augmented. Looking over at the hanzer line, and the delays and checks they were subjected to, he shook his head to himself.
It ain't right... just ain't fuckin' right.
He thought, moving through the terminal on the way out into the city proper. He didn't pay any attention to a tall, thin, middle-aged man with a forgettable face, in a drab winter jacket and slacks, loitering nearby.
"No sign of her. All the passengers have disembarked. But the Infolink signature is still present. Our asset aboard was unable to make visual contact. I will continue to monit-" - he suddenly cut himself off in a whisper, as an overheard conversation in Russian reached his ears. It was a family with a teenage boy, the latter of which was talking loudly about a 'sizzling hot augged-up babe', on his phone, presumably to a school-friend, given the overheard context.
"Addendum. Possible third-party confirmation. Stand by." - he signed off, then casually moved over, to intercept the passing family.
"Zdravstvuyte! Vy sluchayno ne videli moyu plemyannitsu? Vysokaya chernovolosaya zhenshchina let dvadtsati. Sil'no vidoizmenennaya. YA tol'ko chto posmotrela na drugoy konets terminala, sredi modifitsirovannykh passazhirov yeye ne bylo…?" - in flawless Russian, with a slightly-worried looking smile, playing the part perfectly.
"Da! Da, ona byla s muzhchinoy, v nashem kupe. My podumali, chto stranno, chto ona ne puteshestvovala s sebe podobnymi, no ne pridali etomu osobogo znacheniya. Ona byla ochen' druzhelyubna! Teper', kogda ya dumayu ob etom, my ne videli yeye posledniye paru chasov." - the woman replied with a frown, before the boy added enthusiastically...
"Ona byla potryasayushchey! Ne nazvala yeye imeni, no paren', s kotorym ona byla, tol'ko chto proshel mimo, pryamo tam. Mozhet byt', on znayet? Nadeyus', ty naydesh' yeye." - with a grin.
As the family walked off, the agent glanced after the individual the boy pointed at – a solidly built, lean, athletic man with a mustache, and a backpack, a beanie on his head. Something about the way he walked, and looked around...
"Confirmation made. No visual yet, but she is here. And she's got backup. A male in his thirties, possibly contractor or military, given the body language. No visible enhancements. Best guess is, that she doesn't want to be seen leaving the train. Will follow the male, and report in once they meet up." - he added softly into his concealed comms device.
Waiting until just before the man with a beanie was out of sight, he followed.