She had possession of an RFID chip, but the elevator’s security wouldn’t be fooled so easily. In order to get to the surface, she needed to trick the facial recognition software. Well, not trick, she mused, I’ll just give it what it wants.
Holding CJ’s forehead down with one hand, she placed the knife’s edge behind his neck and pulled upward. When the spine proved difficult to sever, she flipped the knife so its serrated-edge was up and sawed through until her key to freedom tore free. She dropped the head on the steel table at the center of the room, then quickly stripped off her clothes and wiped her face clean. Pulling a change of clothes from a drawer, she dressed and stuffed the head into an extra shirt. She pressed her ear to the door, and when she felt certain no one was walking the halls, she cautiously peered out.
There was no one in sight. The hallway leading to the elevator loomed before her like the home stretch in an ultra-marathon. Tucking the head under her arm, she ran barefoot toward the elevator, feeling a rush of elation as its doors slid open. She ducked inside and removed the shirt from around CJ’s severed head. She stared down at the floor, held the head toward the facial-recognition camera, and pushed the button labeled “Ground Level.”
A woman’s voice said, “Welcome, Clark Jackson. Proceeding to Ground Level.”
Audrey stuffed the head back into the shirt and hid in the corner of the elevator. Getting out of Hillcrest would be a good start, but it wouldn’t guarantee her safety. She might only have a few moments before someone spotted her on camera and mobilized a team to hunt her down. If she was going to survive, she needed to make every second count.
The elevator came to a stop as if riding a cushion of air. Audrey rushed to the door at the far end of the room, which opened at her approach. She took it as a good sign—if anyone had seen her escaping, they would have locked the building down. And now that she was above-ground, they couldn’t hope to stop her.
Dropping the bloody head on the floor, she sprinted down the hallway toward the exit. She rounded a corner and turned west; the orange light of the setting sun made the glass doors at the exit look like a portal into a world on fire.
A world belonging to Katharos, Audrey thought. Then, to her dismay, a metal barricade began to descend from the ceiling. She put on a burst of speed, but it was no use. They had noticed her flight and had trapped her like a bird in a cage.
Pushing aside her growing sense of despair, she ran onward. Perhaps there would be some way to bypass the barrier, or an emergency exit, or…
At her approach, the gate rattled and began to retract. The RFID she still carried had cleared her path. She grinned and ducked beneath the rising barricade, then slammed the door’s steel push bar and stumbled onto the sidewalk. The air, though bath-water humid, felt amazing in her lungs. She took several deep breaths and fixed her face with a panicked expression. She fled down the path to the open street and held her hands up in a plea for help. The first car to cross her path slowed to a stop.
Glancing over her shoulder, Audrey screamed, “You have to help me! My boyfriend is trying to kill me!”
The driver, a man in his mid-forties, leaned forward to search for her pursuer.
“Please!” Audrey hopped from one foot to the other. “He’ll be here any second.”
The man hesitated, then rolled down his window a few inches. It was enough.
“Oh, shit,” she whimpered. “There he is!”
The man cranked his head to the right, following her gaze. Audrey reached one arm through the window and gripped his thinning hair. Then, with the other hand, she drove the Ka-Bar into the base of his skull. The man jerked, then fell limp.
Releasing her grip on his scalp, Audrey thumbed the button to unlock the doors. She pulled the knife free and tugged the door handle. The man teetered like a sack of beans standing on end, then collapsed onto the asphalt. Audrey grasped his pants and pulled his legs out of the way, then settled into the driver’s seat. Without hesitation, she put the car in gear and pinned the accelerator to the floor. The tires squealed in protest as she careened around the first turn, and she narrowly avoided a head-on collision with an approaching minivan. After wheeling through two more turns, she felt safe enough to slow down and search for the man’s cell phone.
She had to act quickly. The police would be on her in minutes if she couldn’t access the protective umbrella of Katharos. Instead of trying to unlock the man’s phone, she tapped the word “Emergency” on the bottom of the screen. A call went out and, seconds later, connected with Emergency Services.
“9-1-1 Dispatch, what is your location?”
Speaking clearly, Audrey listed a ten-digit string of numbers, then repeated it.
“I’m sorry,” the dispatcher said, “could you please explain the nature of your emergency?”
Audrey spoke the numbers again, and when she reached the final digit, the phone made a clicking noise. After several seconds, a man with an impassive voice said, “Ms. Stokes, where have you been?”
Audrey didn’t recognize the man on the other end of the call, but she wasn’t about to explain herself to some Katharos calling-center peon. “Look, dimwit, I’ve been imprisoned for I don’t know how long, and I just cut myself loose. Literally. I have some very important intelligence to pass along, so stop wasting my time and patch me through to Empress.”
“Please take a moment to calm yourself,” the man said, his tone as soothing as a hypnotist’s. “The police have been called off and communications out of the Hillcrest Trauma and Rehabilitation Center are being rerouted. No one is following you; please make your way to the safehouse on Edmondson Avenue.”
“Thanks, but I know how to handle myself. Put me through to Empress.”
“I speak on her behalf. Proceed to Edmondson Avenue.”
Speaking through clenched teeth, Audrey said, “Who the hell is this?”
“This is Borya Tabanov, Emperor of Katharos.”
“Bullshit.”
A beat, then the man spoke again. “I have shut down all remotely accessible vehicles in your way. Please proceed to Edmondson Avenue.”
Audrey’s eyes widened as she eased through the next turn. Ahead, on both sides of the open road, hundreds of trucks, cars, vans, and motorcycles were rolling to a stop. The few vehicles still running were nearly two decades old. Weaving through the stalled vehicles, she said, “How…”
“It does not matter. Do you believe me now?”
Audrey swallowed. “Yes, my Emperor.”
“Splendid. Now, what intelligence did you need to pass along to Empress?”
“I…I…” Audrey stuttered, still dumbfounded by the incredible display of power. “I was captured by Daron Keeler. While in captivity, I learned about an impending attack on the Palace.”
“When?”
“I’m not sure. But it should be in the next twelve hours.”
“How many attackers should we expect?”
“A small team, maybe ten people at the most.”
“It will not be a problem. How did they learn the location of the Palace?”
Audrey lied with practiced ease. “I don’t know. They already had the location when they came to interrogate me about the Palace defenses.”
“Very well. What did you divulge?”
Audrey paused for a moment, feigning guilt. “I…told them about the outer and inner defenses. But I misled them on a few key details.”
“Such as?”
“The effective range of the surface-to-air missiles. They’ll be walking right into a trap.”
“You expect them to arrive by air?”
Audrey grinned. “Yes. They know you have Eugene Carver, and they’re trying to rescue him. They’ll get there as fast as they can.”
After a brief pause, Borya said, “I am tracking four separate aircraft with the capacity to carry a tactical team that will pass within three hundred kilometers of the Palace. I will note any diversions and take action to destroy anything approaching our position. Than
k you for the information, Ms. Stokes. Is there anything else?”
Audrey navigated onto Edmundson Avenue. “No, my Emperor.” She pulled into a narrow driveway and stopped in front of a modest home.
“Are you certain?”
Audrey’s eyes narrowed, and her hand instinctively reached for the back of her head. “My implant,” she mumbled. “The bastards ripped it out of me.”
“Thank you for your honesty,” Borya said. “I will send a surgeon to the safehouse to equip you with a new device.”
Her voice took on a reverential tone. “I will be here, awaiting your commands.”
The call disconnected, and Audrey got out of the car. She walked around the outside of the safehouse and lifted a marble birdbath to retrieve a spare key. The house was unoccupied, which was all the better for her. After she gathered her supplies, there would be no one to watch her leave.
27
40 Miles West of Krasnoyarsk, Russia
Sitting in the co-pilot seat of his father’s AN-12 cargo plane, Yuri felt like he was ten-years-old again. He leaned back, resting his head against the tattered leather headrest and staring up at the cirrus-streaked sky. “It’s a perfect morning to fly,” he said.
His father smiled. “I wish it did not have to end in violence. But I trust you are doing the right thing, and you will be careful.”
“I will, Tato,” Yuri said. He glanced at the GPS display. “We are almost to Krasnoyarsk. Are you ready for the equipment to, er, malfunction?”
Aleksandr shrugged. “These radios and GPS are so old. You never know when they will stop working.” He nodded at the compass. “What is our new heading?”
Yuri unplugged the GPS and disconnected the radio. “Head northeast, zero-two-zero degrees. When we get closer to the dropzone, I will reconnect the GPS to make sure we are in position.”
“Do not worry. I navigated with paper and pencil for years. I could get you within one kilometer of your target without even looking at that machine.”
Yuri squeezed his father’s shoulder. “I know you could, Tato. And thank you for doing this.”
Aleksandr pursed his lips and watched the instrument panel. “I would not have hesitated if you were not going along.”
“I do not want to go along,” Yuri admitted. “I stopped thirsting for the blood of my enemies long ago. But I must go. The people back there,” he nodded toward the cargo hold, “they are my friends. And they are the only people who can stop this evil.”
Nodding slowly, Aleksandr said, “Then you must forgive an old man for worrying about his son.”
“I forgive you, Tato.” Yuri shrugged. “But now you know how I have felt for all these years. Every time you flew into Russia on a smuggling mission, I feared you wouldn’t come back.”
Aleksandr frowned. “You knew? As a boy?”
Yuri nodded. “Mama told me. She wanted me to know that you were doing something important.”
“But…you never said anything.”
“Because I knew what you were doing was right. We both knew.”
Aleksandr gripped the yoke tighter. He blinked several times and looked away, ashamed of his tears. “Your mother is a good woman.”
Yuri smiled, proud that his parents had maintained such a strong bond over the years, despite the time and distance between them. “She still talks about you all the time. Every day, she asks me when I will have enough time off to visit.”
Still looking away, Aleksandr said. “I think our family has spent enough time apart, and I have done enough for the people of Ukraine.”
Yuri furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Aleksandr wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then dug into his pocket. He withdrew a dirty, yellowed envelope and handed it to Yuri. “It’s a Visa application. I have carried it with me for months, and I am finally ready to send it in.” He met Yuri’s questioning gaze. “I am ready to come to America and be with my beautiful wife and son.”
Yuri bit his lower lip. “You…you’re coming to live with us?”
Aleksandr nodded. “With any luck, I will be there before Christmas.”
Yuri’s hands seemed to take on a mind of their own, unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his father into a hug. “Tato…I don’t believe it.”
Aleksandr patted his son’s arm. “I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you. You’ve grown so strong, and I’m proud of how you have taken care of your mother. I want to be a better father and a better husband, and soon I will have a chance to prove it.”
Yuri shook his head. “You are a hero, and I am proud to call you my father.”
Aleksandr braced Yuri by the arms. Looking at his son with bloodshot eyes, he said, “We can celebrate later. For now, we must both focus on the mission, yes?”
Yuri nodded and patted his eyes dry with his shirt. “Yes, Tato.”
Aleksandr squeezed his arms, then let him go. He glanced back at the cargo hold. “You’d better get ready. We will be over the drop zone soon enough.”
Yuri took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He grasped the cabin door, smiled, and pulled it open.
Forty-five minutes later, Yuri ran his hands over his gear. He wasn’t usually so nervous before a mission, but his conversation with his father had raised the stakes. For the first time since he was a teenager, his family would be reunited in one household. His mind kept drifting to visions of the holidays spent together, or sipping coffee with Aleksandr before heading to Hillcrest for work.
Yuri shook his head and replaced the comforting dream with a visualization of the battlefield. He imagined where he would stand in the formation, and the cover he would search for in the mortar-zone. With his eyes closed, he ran his thumb along the chin strap of his helmet, checked his earbuds, adjusted the volume on his radio, shifted the medical pack hanging from his waist, and squeezed his parachute with his elbows.
“You all set?” a familiar voice shouted above the engines.
Yuri glanced at Eli and nodded.
“Good,” Eli said. “We’re five minutes out. Head to the rear when you’re ready.”
As if on cue, the aircraft began to descend, gradually bleeding altitude until it leveled off at 14,000 feet above sea level. Yuri reached the cabin just as the cargo bay door at the aft of the aircraft began to open. Ducking inside the cabin, Yuri said, “I guess this is my stop.”
Aleksandr grinned. “This bus stops for no one. You will have to jump and hope for the best.”
Yuri clapped his father on the back. “When this is over, you and I are going to finish that bottle of Kors you have hidden in the basement.”
“That’s my best vodka,” Aleksandr protested. “It was given to me by the general of the—”
Yuri held up a hand. “There will never be a better reason to celebrate.”
Aleksandr exhaled, then nodded. “You are right. Saving the world is a pretty good reason.”
Yuri shook his head. “No, Tato. Reuniting a family that has spent years half-a-world apart. That is why we will break open the Kors.”
Aleksandr beamed with pride, then jabbed his thumb toward the rear of the plane. “Get off my aircraft and get to work.”
Yuri gave Aleksandr a little punch on the arm, then opened the cabin door. He trotted along the grated floor and joined the rest of the team. Upon his arrival, Kacen and Trent began double-checking his loadout. They gave him the “thumbs-up,” then moved into position behind Eli.
Yuri took a deep breath, savoring the cool air blowing in through the cargo door. He squeezed his glutes and stuck out his pelvis, simulating the position he would hold in freefall. Standing upright again, he checked to make sure his rifle hadn’t shifted. It was still firmly strapped to his side.
Suddenly, Yuri felt lightheaded. There was a commotion near the cargo door. Janson, who had been poking her head out to spot the dropzone, jumped up and waved for the team to get back.
Aleksandr’s voice came over the radio, speaking in roughly accented English. “Brace yourselve
s!”
Yuri’s feet lifted off the floor as the aircraft dove. He floated in midair for three long seconds, then slammed back down. There was a thudding noise and flashes of light outside the cargo hold—flares being launched. Yuri got to his feet and stumbled forward, then was knocked into an ISU as the plane banked hard.
The ISU leaned to the left, pulling hard on the chains and straps holding it down. For a moment, he thought it would break free and crush him, but the bindings held. Half-staggering, half-crawling, Yuri pulled himself toward the cabin. He lost his balance and dropped to the floor as the plane began to ascend. Then the plane rolled onto its side, and Yuri used the momentum to pull himself forward a few feet. Finally, the plane leveled off, and Yuri sprinted to the cabin. He ripped the door open and shouted, “What’s happening?”
Aleksandr glared at him, his eyes both loving and incensed. “Get out! Get out, now!”
“Why?!” Yuri shouted. Even as he asked, he saw a streak of smoke appear outside the window. Anti-aircraft missiles.
“Go!” Aleksandr bellowed. He shoved his son through the door, yanked on the yoke, and slammed the throttle forward.
Yuri bounced off the nearest ISU and toppled along the floor. Momentum and gravity carried him and the rest of the team toward the open cargo door.
Yuri pulled his chin into his chest and covered his head with his arms, shielding his head from seats and bulkheads. Then there was a great rush of wind, and he tumbled head over heels in a dizzying spiral. Instinctively, he formed a box with his arms and jutted his pelvis out.
He was in freefall, his back toward the ground. Dipping one shoulder and raising the other as if rolling out of bed, he spun around to face the ground. Seconds later, his parachute deployed automatically. The rush of air subsided, replaced by a gentle breeze. Glancing around, he saw his team members’ chutes open. The plane was nowhere in sight, so he tore his parachute toggles free from their Velcro storage pouches and pulled hard to the right. Like a horse guided with a bit, his canopy began to turn.
The Nightmare Unleashed Page 16