Chapter Fourteen
"Zablokiruy eto!" - Yelena ordered the two, as she crowded-in behind them... only for her expression to change, as soon as she realised where they found themselves in.
There was no crawlway. No maintenance shaft, nothing. Just a mess of wiring on one side, coming from the backside of the electrical box, and a blank wall on the other. It was nothing more then a hollow alcove inside the wall, clearly built to reduce material cost of building a proper wall, while still keeping the structural integrity of the floor.
She'd heard the phrase... 'fuck my life' more then once. Rarely did it apply better to the current situation. In theory, she might be able to bust through the opposite wall, assuming it was as thin... or rip out enough wiring to maybe get to a crawlway behind – if there was one... but she wouldn't get the time to do either. And that's if either of those two assumptions were correct.
Dead end.
The male board member looked at her in the semi-darkness of the alcove, lit only by the spillage coming through the busted-in wall. His expression was somewhere between resignation and annoyance.
"YA ne budu lgat'. Na mgnoveniye ya podumal, chto my spravimsya. Chto teper'?" - glibly. Yelena was impressed in spite of herself. Most civilians in this situation would literally be frozen in fear, unable to even think clearly – certainly his colleague, hyperventilating in borderline panic and praying under her breath, was an example.
Not that she could blame her. They'd likely be dead in half a minute. Probably less.
The aquiline woman's expression turned blank. Not empty, not... segmenting. Just blank. Composed. Acutely feeling the pain in her thorax, and the side. She could hear the subsonics of multiple drones outside in the hallway, converging on their position. Also the distant shouts of the troops, following in their wake. There wasn't any doubt that they were trapped.
She leveled the twin Zeniths at the hole. Waiting. She didn't bother cloaking. The drones would see right through it, and even if not – there was nowhere left to go.
So this is how it ends? Funny. I always thought I would be... relieved... at the idea. I died nine years ago, after all. But not like this. Five months ago, I wouldn't care. I was a drone. No different then those things out there. But now... I'm not – finished! I didn't.. make them pay yet. I didn't avenge my family! I do NOT have the luxury of dying yet!
Was the woman's almost – petulant – thought. Along with a trace of genuine anger at the idea, as her eyes narrowed. She resisted the urge to let out a blistering swear. No. Giving in to anger wouldn't help.
The guns remained steady, as moments passed. The drones were right outside, she could hear that clearly. Why didn't they come in and finish the job?
~"Enemy combatant. This is Tarvos Security. Release your hostages and surrender immediately!"~ - a male voice came through one of the drones' speakers, presumably.
Yelena's incredulous expression mirrored that of the male board member. It wasn't a cleanup op? They were actually concerned about her 'hostages'? She allowed her lips to spread in a knowing smirk.
Of course! A high-profile reception... probably with approval from the city authorities... they're concerned about the image. No doubt already coordinating with the local police, which ties their hands. Oh be still my beating heart... they actually want to arrest me! Sometimes civilisation actually happens to be civilised.
Tarvos rats... you should kill me while you have the chance. You won't get another.
She was about to reply affirmatively out loud... before another thought occurred. It could be a ruse – secure the hostages, then dispose of her, out in the open. Tarvos – former Belltower – was certainly not above that. She knew that first hand.
No... As long as they've given me leverage like this – let's capitalise on it.
"I will only negotiate with the authorities! The hostages stay until you arrange that. If any of your drones poke their nose in here, these two will be the first ones caught in the crossfire!" - she shouted, putting a... hopefully convincing... amount of 'tension and anxiety' in her tone. Even as she did, she could now hear footsteps outside, even without her implants.
Like she told Irwine once, she wasn't a good actress. But she knew that the more – wound up – she seemed, the less inclined they'd be to try anything, out of fear of her overreacting. Standard hostage-management procedure.
For Irwine, the crawlway seemed to stretch for eternity, as the pain in his shoulder continued to throb, making him progress at a snail's pace through the cramped passage. Yet he knew he couldn't let out a sound. Noise would carry through these narrow spaces, and invariably reach the ears of the police crawling all over the tower by now.
C'mon... elevator shaft... where are you?! I know you're there, I can feel the breeze...
He thought. All the while wondering what might be going on with Yelena and her part of the mission. With any luck, she was already on board their bird, with the packages, on her way out of this mess. He fervently hoped she wouldn't be lingering on his account. The mission was what counted. But... he knew her better now. And a part of him hoped she wouldn't leave him behind, just like she didn't, that night at Sankt Peterburg airport.
Not as crazy this time, if possible! Getting snatched onto a moving airplane isn't my idea of a good time... damn near lost my shoulders!
The notion still... didn't quite register. The idea of needing to be – rescued – by her. Back in the Corps, as well as the Sons... he relied on his comrades-in-arms. But they were just that. His team. His guys. It was – expected. And truth be told, he did live through a few scraps that rivalled that night. Thanks to the team, and the 'leave no man behind' policy.
With Yelena, it was different. She was... for all intents and purposes, a mercenary. An unknown element. Worse, a rogue unknown element. Yes, he had feelings for her, but... until that night, he never really considered having to rely on her. And frankly, given her history and conditioning – she wasn't the kind of person one would consider reliable, under the best of circumstances. Until that night – he still doubted his own better judgement, allowing himself to fall for her. And all the baggage that came with her. Her psyche, which... still reared it's head. What happened back during their meeting with the agent, was just the latest example.
But that night changed everything. The way she looked at him. The conviction... he realised he made the right choice, trusting his intuition, and not his common sense. He just hoped he'd get a chance to return the favour.
Through the grating past a bend in the shaft, he could feel increasing breeze. He almost smiled. Finally! Despite the pain spiking, he increased his crawling pace. Once he reached it, he could see that it was, indeed, the elevator shaft. The visible heavy cabling running vertically upwards was proof enough of that.
That wast the good news. The bad news – the elevator car itself was not there. As he carefully removed the grating, careful not to let it drop down into the shaft, he could see it, way below... by his estimate, at least four stories down. Climbing the cables down was out of the question, with one functional arm.
So Irwine settled-in to wait. Eventually the lift would come up, since people were now all over this place. He just had to be ready to get atop, without anyone inside hearing it, once it did. And hope he wouldn't get squashed into the top of the shaft, if anyone inside decided to key for the top floor.
There was a long silence, punctuated only by the soft sounds of footsteps in the hallway, and an occassional clank of a weapon against composite armour plate. Accompanied by the ominous subsonic whine of several drones. Long enough that Yelena began thinking that they changed their mind, and were prepping to toss a WP grenade through the hole, and solve it the simple way. Like the one that welcomed her in the elevator, earlier.
The Tyrants would've done it. We... did do it. I – did do it. Once.
The woman thought darkly, remembering. The screaming. The charred stench, as a roomful of people, two targets and eight collaterals – three of them children – perished in agony. Remembering. Also remembering the... sadistic pleasure... she took from it, back then.
As she brutally shoved aside an onset of shame and regret like so many times with her memories, locking it behind one of her mental barriers, a part of her wondered what it would be like. To burn alive. To pay for her sins that way.
Maybe that kind of pain would be enough to make me learn to... scream... again. To give in to it. To reclaim that part of being human, before I die.
She reflected, remembering her early – conditioning – with Namir, the memory from the foyer surfacing fresh again. Briefly, she fingered the bullet-hole in her chest armour, the one left behind the round that was now lodged in her thorax. Even pressing onto it, while it escalated the pain – didn't make her so much as inhale sharply. She was too used to it. Pain, discomfort... it all blurred into a grayness of detachment mixed with... latent pleasure, and a psyche accustomed to violence and death.
"Acknowledged. We're in contact with 'em. Just don't do nothing stupid." - the same hard tone, now sounding like it wasn't coming from a receiver, replied. He seemed to be right outside.
Briefly, Yelena considered how convenient this would have been, if she had even a single frag grenade. All of them nicely grouped-up out there in the hallway, along with the drones... she'd make them pay for the stupidity and weakness they were displaying here. Letting her live – and giving in to her demands.
Then she sighed inwardly, realising that the part of her that felt that way – was something she was trying to leave in the past.
"Etogo ya ne ozhidal." - the board member murmured. Something in his tone... she turned her head to meet his gaze squarely.
"Ne pitayte nadezhd. Tak ili inache, ya sobirayus' dostavit' tebya v Madaluk i vypolnit' svoye zadaniye. Yesli net, ty umresh'." - she warned him.
He didn't say anything, but the 'we'll see about that' look in his eyes made it clear he was neither impressed nor intimidated. He may have been a cushy board member of a well-to-do corporation – but he had nerves of steel.
She could respect that, and the fact that UralPharma had people like that in positions of power – if only he wasn't on the wrong side of the equation.
Naiad's Kiss, unknown location in the Black Sea, half an hour later
Quinn was rushing through the ship's corridors at a fast-walk pace, on his way to the intel centre, having just been apprised of an emergency-communique from their field unit – specifically, the VTOL attached to Fedorova and Irwine's assignment in Austria.
That pilot had barely escaped the area, and was apparently lying low in a forest near the Polish border, evading radar sweeps.
"Contact our local informants in Austria, and have them corroborate the capture! I want a report on my terminal in an hour." - he barked at an aide, who nodded, and took a left at a cross corridor.
"Couture, start an Infolink-trace. Use whatever tunnelers you need to, and grease some palms if necessary, to bypass any regional SigInt. I want her exact satellite location, if we're going to set up an extraction attempt." - he turned to the young woman running beside him.
"Not gonna be easy... the Linksats over the region are still down. Apparently part of whatever failsafe was triggered. Any external access attempt will be triangulated. We'd to better just to rely on local informants to confirm it." - the hacker shook her head, as she looked over her shoulder, and snapped her fingers at two of her people following. They nodded, and moved off too.
"Bloody hell... that'll take time. And every moment she's in custody risks either interrogation or elimination, if our enemies move fast enough. I'm not worried about her breaking – but losing Colonel Fedorova at this juncture is unacceptable. We don't have another asset with her capabilities and skillset." - the older man growled.
"What about Irwine? You not worried about him at all?!" - Couture pointed out, "As valuable as our resident cyberbitch and her little tricks are, we're talking about a good man stuck behind enemy lines here." - she glared.
Quinn sighed, holding onto his patience.
"Of course I am. But until we know what exactly is going on, we can't do anything about Major Irwine, one way or another. Also, miss Fedorova can be traced by her Infolink frequency signature in our system. He cannot. That makes her a more logical focus to begin with." - calmly, but giving the young woman a 'drop it' look.
"Fine... I'm just sick of the whole mystique of how valuable she is." - Couture growled sarcastically, "...we have any number of skilled operatives. If we sprung for some top-shelf augs for 'em, they'd be just as capable, if not more." - under her breath.
"We both know that's not true. Technology is just a part of it. And not even the dominant part." - Quinn stated emphatically, as he typed in a code at a secure-door terminal, admitting the two of them into the Intel section.
The girl's face turned sour at that, but she couldn't disagree. It took a – particular mindset – to do that kind of job. As... ambivalent... as she was about the woman, especially following Irwine's revelation on what happened to her family... she simply couldn't let go of what Yelena did to her brother. Forgiveness was so easy in theory. In practice... not so much.
"In any case, you have your assignment. Find a way to get an exact fix on her position. Meanwhile I have to confer with Janus. Later." - the man added, continuing on to the secure-wing. She nodded, turning off towards her own little sanctum, the comms core.
The fuzzy, static-laced white face on the monitor was silent for a moment.
~"It is time to employ the service of our new – allies. And test whether or not we do in fact have a common enemy. The Collective was contacted half an hour ago, by the same agent that miss Fedorova was dealing with, during her unscheduled trip to Georgia."~
"Very convenient timing. One might wonder if they had a hand in it." - Quinn pointed out, suspiciously.
The face nodded.
~"Indeed. It is a shame our attempts to follow up on the Colonel's attempt to track his movements, failed when he disappeared in Calcutta. But at least we know that whoever or whatever Majestic Twelve is, they take their secrecy seriously and know how to cover their tracks. In any case, their contact claims to have precise intel on where in the city Colonel Fedorova was taken, as well as assets in place to effect a breakout."~
"Breakout, or recapture by them?" - Quinn countered.
~"At this point either is possible. The Collective is pretending to consider the offer, while we get our own agents in place. We have reassigned mister Jensen to the task, along with his own network of contacts in Interpol. Given their authority, they will be able to legally effect her transfer to their custody, under the guise of fighting international terrorism."~
"What about the packages? The assignment still needs to be completed, if we're to keep Madalyuk on side."
~"A meeting has been arranged. For the time being, he will have to be content with the message being sent, by the elimination of foreign interests his board members were conferring with. You will debrief him personally in Moscow. The Collective has full confidence in your persuasive abilities."~
Quinn grimaced, but nodded.
"What about Major Irwine? Not to put too fine a point on it, but... the Colonel's involvement with him will make it very likely she'll resist any attempt to recover her without also accounting for him. And besides, his contribution to our cause has been invaluable so far. Not to mention his capacity as an intermediary between us and the New Sons of Freedom."
~"Already considered. We have notified the New Sons' command structure, and General Lebedev has left the specifics in our hands. They want him retrieved, but not at the expense of the overall objectives, if they conflict."~
"Which are?" - Quinn asked, even though he pretty much knew the answer.
~"Prevent Colonel Fedorova's recapture or silencing, retain her services, and erase all traces of the Collective's involvement in the incident. She is headstrong and troubled, but her loyalty can be maintained through appeasement. Major Irwine is useful, but expendable in the larger state of affairs."~
Quinn gritted his teeth at Janus's cold pragmatism. He had no doubt Jamella Couture would be livid, if she overheard this part. Logically, it tracked clean, but... it reminded him that he didn't really know what... Janus... was. Even after all the years spent in the employ of the Juggernaut Collective. Moments like these, the lack of – human considerations – for lack of a better term, reinforced the private suspicion that it was in fact, some form of a sophisticated AI entity, not a person behind the face.
Maybe. But so far, the Collective has retained it's moral compass. Maybe that's due to our part in keeping it that way – in which case it's up to us, to continue to balance it out.
Was the man's thought, as he nodded, turning to walk out of the secure chamber. He had no doubt that along with the report he requested, a detailed itinerary of his upcoming meeting with Madalyuk would be available to prepare for.
Privately, he wasn't looking forward to it. While his business interests aligned with the Collective's goals, for the time being, Quinn had met the man once... and the term he described Madalyuk to Irwine, as 'his own creature' – was very accurate. Arrogant and ambitious, Yevgeni Madalyuk saw his potential alliance with the Collective purely as a tool to gain state influence.
Not really the kind of ally to rely on, long term.